It was for a theater company in New York, the Echo Theater Company. I’d had to go several pages into the website to confirm it was really him, onto a page with pictures of the members of the group. But there he was, in a black-and-white headshot that looked a few years old, under the name B. L. Campbell. He was the founding director of the company, and it seemed like he wrote and acted in a lot of their plays as well.

I’d just stared at my laptop for a few moments, heart hammering, not able to believe how cool this was. It was like finding out Mr. Campbell was a superhero, with a whole other life and a secret identity. But a second later, I realized that he’d never mentioned this at all—and that I probably shouldn’t let him know that I’d found it. The last thing I wanted was for him to be mad, or feel that I had crossed some line. Because if everyone knew, we all would have shown up to see his plays—that was just a given. Which was maybe why, I’d realized as I clicked through the website, he hadn’t. He probably wanted something that was separate from us, from his job in Connecticut. Probably the other members of his company were cool New York City people and wouldn’t have appreciated a whole bunch of suburban teenagers suddenly showing up.

But even though I’d never been to see any of the shows—or told anyone but Stevie about my Echo Theater discovery—I still checked the website occasionally. Which was how that I knew that a new play—Navel Gazing, written and directed by Mr. Campbell—was premiering at the Echo Theater tonight.

“Anyway,” Mr. Campbell said, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry about the list, guys. I know you were expecting it. But I promise it’ll be soon.” He gave us all a smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners, then glanced at his watch. “And somehow class is now half over. On your feet, everyone! Warm-ups!”

We all jumped to our feet, Mr. Campbell moved his chair out of the way, and with only twenty minutes left, class officially began.

STARBUCKS COFFEE COMPANY

11/5

2:15 PM

CAT

Hot

Grande

Mocha

ASK ME

One pump white mocha

STEVE

Iced

Venti

Sugar-free vanilla

Soy

Latte

ASK ME

Only two shots espresso

Only four pumps sugar-free vanilla

Less ice

Still ice, but just less than normal

Like half the amount of ice

(guest seems overly concerned about the ice)

PAID

Starbucks card account XXXXXXXXXXXX1981

I frowned at Stevie’s Starbucks cup. “Is there enough ice in there?” I had ordered for both of us—I had long since memorized Stevie’s far-too-complicated latte order—and I wanted to make sure it was right.

“It’s perfect,” Stevie assured me with a laugh. She took a sip and then made a face.

“What?”

“It’s fine,” she said hurriedly. “I think maybe they put three shots of espresso in, not two. But it comes with three, so maybe they got confused. It’s okay—”