We go sit on the red steps, as usual. We eat the ice cream first so it won’t melt, and then we each open our boxes of McNuggets. It’s what we’ve always done—since the time we went to see our first show together, back in freshman year, this has been our thing.

“You guys know Darryl Williams?” Kimmie says suddenly, looking down at her box of nuggets.

Adam snorts. “Do we know Darryl Williams?”

I mean, we don’t know know him, but we know of him. Everyone does. Among the twelve hundred students at our school, Darryl might as well be a celebrity. He has dark brown skin and big eyes, and there’s some sort of charm about him that I can’t even explain. It’s also true that, while other people have tried and failed to start bands, Darryl has done it. His songs have tens of thousands of streams on Spotify, and people actually show up at parties whenever they hear he’s playing.

“I got paired up with him for an essay.”

“I didn’t even know you had a class with him.”

“AP English lit,” Kimmie says. “We’re meeting up next week, and… I think I’m gonna ask if I can show him some of the stuff I’ve written.”

Kimmie has never had the same Broadway dreams that Adam and I have, but she’s always loved music. Back when we first met, she used to sing at her church on Sundays, and when her parents got her a keyboard for her birthday last year, she found it impossible to stay away from it. She would stop talking midsentence to type lyrics she’d just thought of into her phone, and she’d be late to meet Adam and me because she’d gotten caught up writing songs.

“You should definitely do it,” I say.

“It’s just terrifying, you know? But I feel like this could be my chance to do something. I mean… if he likes my music, maybe I’ll even ask if I could play with his band sometime.”

For a moment, I can’t believe what just came out of Kimmie’s mouth. Even though she’s dreamt about starting a band for the longest time, she’s always been too scared to do it. Tonight, though, there’s something different about her. There’s light in her eyes that’s never been there before.

“I think he’s gonna love your songs,” I say, dipping a chicken nugget in my barbecue sauce.

Suddenly, I catch something from the corner of my eye. Adam is staring at me, and there’s something different about him, too. He looks as though he’s deep in thought, and there is a nervous smile on his face that I don’t recognize.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.