The blond guy’s mouth twisted downward. “Well, don’t be too hard on yourself if you don’t get it,” he said to me. “I don’t think they’re looking to cast an ethnic actor for this role anyway.”

Adam froze beside me. “What?”

My hands started sweating. My mind went blank. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I couldn’t think of anything at all.

The blond guy slumped his shoulders, shifting awkwardly on the spot. “No offense,” he said, looking down at his feet. “I mean, I’m sure you’re talented. But, you know, you’re a little too…”

“Too ethnic?” I spat.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I was just trying to make small talk to pass the time. We can all just go back to waiting.”

He turned his back on us and crossed his arms.

“He’s an idiot,” Adam whispered to me. “Don’t let him get in your head. You’re gonna kill the audition. We both will.”

But I didn’t. How could I, when I was carrying all that anger inside me? I stumbled the second I walked into the audition room, and I was two lines into my monologue when I choked. I managed to remember the next line, to finish the piece, but when I was done, the casting director thanked me with a stone face, and I knew right at that second that I hadn’t gotten it.

I take the last tortillas out of the box and slap them on the shelf. Then, I pat all the piles to make sure they look even. I know how much this store means to Ma and Pa. They opened Adela’s Corner Store almost ten years ago, and it’s the reason why we can afford to pay rent, and buy clothes, and put food on the table. I used to think I was destined to take over from them when the time came, but it’s been a while since I started dreaming of something different, and I’d never looked back—until today.

What if it never happens? What if I can’t make it as an actor because I don’t look like the other guys standing in that line? Or because my parents haven’t been able to pay for private lessons? Or because, even if my grades and SAT scores were good enough to get into Tisch on a scholarship, we might still not be able to afford the tuition?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the bell at the front door. It rings so many times in a day that I’ve learned to tune it out, but there’s something about the sound of heavy boots walking into the store—two pairs, at least—that captures my attention.