Tony’s face is stern to Mr. D, but when he turns to me, he winks. Kenzie stands up.

“This is ridiculous. She only got the part because of the way she looks.”

Tony laughs. “She got the part because she was the best one for it. She was the best one period. And that kills you.”

“Kenzie is the one who should go,” Piper declares, narrowing her eyes at her.

Kenzie rolls her eyes. “This isn’t about us, Piper.”

Mr. D stands, too, motioning for everyone to stop talking.

“Yes, let’s not wander into that minefield.” He scans the list on the clipboard. Who was willing to put their name out for me?

“Sage recounted the votes,” Asad says. “Ava didn’t steal those tickets. She won them fair and square.”

Kenzie balks. “Sage wouldn’t do that. She’s on my side.”

Tony picks up the clipboard and waves it in her face. “Well, these people are on Ava’s side. Are you gonna take her word or theirs?”

“Well, we certainly can’t have a spring play without half the cast,” he says. “But if I hear of any sort of misbehavior”—he looks from me to Kenzie—“from anyone, that’s it. Understood?”

I nod, and he waves us toward the door. I can’t get out of there fast enough.

I know I should just walk away, but with my friends beside me, I feel stronger. Kenzie steps back as I get close to her and say the words I couldn’t muster at the party.

“In one week, I’m getting surgery and I will look slightly less ugly. But you? You will still be hideous.”

Kenzie recoils from me, mouth agape, and for once—speechless.

In the hallway, Asad pushes Piper’s wheelchair, jumping onto the pegs in the back with one foot, kicking the other behind him as they speed down the hallway. I have to half run to keep up with them and Tony, who takes one step for every two of mine.

“That was amazeballs,” I say. “How did you all even know?”

“Lynch,” Asad says. “Told us you were about to be railroaded.”

“You should have seen how fast people signed that petition.” Piper pumps her fists high in the air and yells down the hallway, happier than I’ve seen her in weeks. “Drama geeks, unite!”

I’m not sure if I’m more surprised by the list of names or that Mr. Lynch helped me.

“I can’t believe people really did that,” I say.

Tony bends slightly to put his arm around my shoulder as we walk down the hall, four of us side by side.

“Of course we did,” he says. “You’re one of us.”

April 23

Orphan.

An ugly word.

A word

for

tear-soaked faces

in

faraway countries

on

infomercials.

Not me.

Before,

I had

a mother

a father

a home.

After,

I

was

a

star

with

no

constellation.

A

bird

with