Brittany clicks off the music, ending our latest attempt at the broom-race choreography. Most of the cast immediately floats to the floor, panting with effort. I drape myself over one of the broom props that’s suspended in midair and wait for the inevitable judgment. Brittany stands up from her seat in the audience and clicks her nails on the hard plastic top of the seat in front of her. “That was . . .” she says. “Okay.”

“Well, fuck you too,” Ed mutters. He tries to stand up from where he’s sitting on the stage, but the Light as a Feather potion we all took mid-scene is still in effect. He ends up floating slowly into the air instead.

The premise for the song we’re rehearsing is that Valeria and Gabriela’s family broom store is holding their annual broom race. So far, we haven’t been able to execute the intense midair choreography or pretend that we’re flying on these broom props to Brittany’s satisfaction.

“Let’s take five, and then we’ll keep working!” Brittany says.

A collective groan rises from the group. Nobody is a big fan of Brittany right now, which suits me fine. I’m currently the president of the anti-Brittany club.

Ana flies up to me, using her arms to sort of swim through the air. I hate that she looks so coordinated, even while levitating. When she gets to me, she floats silently for a moment, making her usual weirdly direct eye contact. “You’re getting better. I was starting to think your performance in the audition was a fluke, but that last run was almost good.”

“Thank you,” I say with as much obviously fake sincerity as I can muster.

“Seriously. You didn’t take anybody out this time. That’s a big improvement.”

“You almost kicked me in the face just now, so I guess the tables have turned.” If I’m being honest, that wasn’t her fault. It only happened because Mikey, my dance partner for the song, accidentally threw me off our broom in the wrong direction.

“If you want, I can help you with the choreography,” she says. “I have a lot of dance experience.”

Oh god no. I would rather die than accept her pity offer. “Don’t worry about me.” I drop off the back side of the fake broom and air-swim away from the stage.

I need more caffeine, or else I’m not going to make it through this rehearsal. There should be a few sips left of the coffee Lex brought me. As I float toward the aisle where I’ve left my stuff, I hear a warning cry from behind me. I half turn and see Ed hurtling toward me at high speed. I barely have time to get out of his way before he flies past.