He shifts in his seat. “Okay, thank you, Reagan. Let’s take five, everyone, and then we’ll resume where we left off.”

I step down from the stage, heart racing.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, approaching them slowly.

Without answering, they give me their attention.

“I know that it was a little rough, but I can do this.”

“This being that role?” Mr. Hoffman asks.

I nod.

“I’m surprised you went with that character. I think you’d be a good fit as the older sister or any number of other parts.”

The oldest sister. The serious one of the three. A role I could perform without thinking.

“I really want a chance to prove I can do something different. This is the role I’m interested in.”

His brow furrows. “Okay.”

I back away, not sure if I helped or ruined my chances of being cast. “Thank you for your time.”

I meet Dakota at the track after both of our classes are done for the day. She’s already running when I step through the gate. While I wait for her to come around, I stretch off to the side. She’s moving at a ridiculously fast clip for as many laps as she’s probably already done.

She was a runner. Is a runner, I guess, but she’s no longer on the track team. She quit after freshman year.

“Hi. How was the audition?” She stops and checks her watch. She times herself to make sure she hasn’t lost her edge. According to Dakota, just because she’s not competing doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be able to on a whim. She’s one of those people who could tell me she’s decided to try out for the Olympic team, and it wouldn’t seem all that crazy.

She lets me set the pace as I fall in beside her, a much slower jog than she’s capable of. I’m here solely because I know I need to do something to offset my other unhealthy habits. I dislike exercise only slightly less than giving up junk food.

“He didn’t write anything. I think I shocked him.”

“Shock can be good.” Her red ponytail sways with each bouncy step. Who has bounce in their step when jogging?

My feet shuffle along the ground. “I hope so.”

I push down that uneasy feeling reminding me that it’s entirely possible I’ll be working backstage on this one. “Why were you so late getting in last night?”

“You mean after you were outside getting cozy with Adam and then freaked out and ran home?”

“I already told you, we were pretending, and I was tired. Don’t turn this around on me.”