There are a few nods from the group. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ana tentatively slide a few feet. There’s no way I’m going to let her get it before me, so I move to the side and try it for myself.

I sink my awareness into the magical currents in the floor. They swim into sharper focus, brown-green and tightly coiled together. I’m going to need to unravel these coils of magic to make this work. Not too much, though, or I’ll ruin the structural integrity of the floor. I jog a few steps and hope for the best. When I put my foot down to slide, I haven’t finished smoothing out my path, so I fall and smack my elbow in the process. I stay down for a moment, rubbing my elbow. Brittany slides past me, mid-demonstration. “You should probably be watching,” she says snidely as she passes.

Who peed in her orange juice this morning?

“Try it slower,” Ana says, sliding up next to me. Of course she’s already figured it out. “If you try from a walk a few times, it’s easier to—”

“I got it,” I snap.

Her brow furrows. “Um. Okay.”

Turns out, I don’t got it. In fact, I never get it. By the end of rehearsal, I’m part of the small, shameful group of people who can’t do a stage slide without falling on their face. Or their ass, depending on momentum.

Mr. B comes back right before we finish up and watches us run through what we’ve learned so far. When we get to the part where I’m supposed to do a stage slide, I run to my next spot instead, my face burning with embarrassment. He gives us a slow clap when we finish the section we know, and I want to tell him not to.

As everyone disperses, Brittany stands squarely in my path and stares at me like I’m a particularly gross bug. “Do I need to change the choreography?” she says disdainfully. “I can move you to the back so you don’t need to do the stage slide if it’s too hard for you.”

“I’ll figure it out.” I narrow my eyes and raise my chin to meet her stare. Ugh, why is she so tall?

“Don’t make Mr. B regret picking you, okay?” Brittany says. “I know you don’t have much experience with theater—”

My face twists with irritation.

“But I wouldn’t want people to think you’re in the play because he wanted to go with authentic casting or whatever.” With that, she flips her hair over her shoulder and strides away.