“She just cares a lot about the show.” He stares at me thoughtfully for a few beats. “Shay, you don’t have a lot of experience with acting, right?”

“No,” I say reluctantly.

He gives me a kind smile. “Well, if it would help you to work with me one-on-one, we can schedule some time to do that.”

One-on-one? No, thank you. That would be hideously awkward.

“It would help get you comfortable with this material,” he adds.

“I think I just need to memorize the lines. It’ll be easier without the script,” I say, even though that is a total lie. I will probably continue to suck even without a script. I take a step backward and jerk my thumb toward the door. “Do you want me to go look for Mikey? He’s running pretty late.”

“Maybe in a few minutes,” he says. “I had one other thing I wanted to ask. This isn’t your hair, right?” He gestures in the general direction of my head. “I mean, naturally. I don’t know the words to talk about women’s hair, so bear with me here.”

“Um, no,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear self-consciously. “It’s naturally curlier.”

“Great!” he says, giving a big sigh of relief. “You know Valeria is supposed to have curly hair, right? I was really hoping we wouldn’t have to transfigure your hair.” He leans toward me conspiratorially, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “That always looks terrible.”

“Well, my hair—”

He cuts me off before I can explain that my hair can be difficult to handle and probably won’t look the way he’s imagining. “Can you have it curly for rehearsal on Thursday?”

I want to refuse, but he just keeps staring me down with those eerily blue eyes, and I realize it will sound silly if I say no. “Sure.”

“Great!” he says, flashing me a big grin.

Mikey enters the room, saving me from any more awkward moments with Mr. B. “Hey!” I say brightly.

Mikey blinks at me, perplexed. Which makes sense, because I have never been this excited to see him. He lingers in the doorway and lifts his hand to wave at me. I’m confused about why he’s waving when he could just say hello out loud, but I return the wave anyway.

“Now that Mikey has deigned to join us, we can get started,” Mr. B says. He plops down on one of the rehearsal cubes, and we finally—finally—start running our scene.

Chapter 20

Ultimately, the communes are a result of a disenchanted middle class that faces rising student loan debt, increasing competition for magical licenses, and a widening class divide. The social resistance movement is worrying government officials, who see it as a threat to economic prosperity and American magical supremacy.

— “Why America’s Youth Are Escaping to Communes,” The Washington Post