I shucked off my coat as I walked inside, well aware that everyone else was waiting for me, and at least three people were probably rolling their eyes at each other about my tardiness. But I’d driven my own car over because I’d thought it might take me a minute, just to process it all.

Even though turning down assistant directing had been the right thing to do, that didn’t mean it hadn’t been difficult. The day rehearsals started, I waved goodbye to Stevie and saw everyone—all my friends—heading over to the theater together, off on some grand adventure I wouldn’t be part of. It had hit me harder than I realized it would, and I’d gotten in my car to go home, but hadn’t even made it half a mile before I’d pulled over to the side of the road and cried.

And Stevie did her best to try and keep me in the loop, but it wasn’t easy—I still sat at lunch with everyone, but there were now inside jokes I didn’t understand, which is just what happens when a group of people spends hours together every day. It was tough, but I understood it wasn’t personal. And over time, it had gotten easier.

I’d also been keeping busy. I’d written two essays for the Pilgrim, our school paper, and had joined mock trial as an alternate at Dara Chapman’s urging, because they always needed people who could act, and none of the people who did theater were ever free. I really liked it, even though law was something I’d never considered, despite the fact I liked acting and arguing, which seemed to be the two main requirements.

But the biggest thing of all was the original works festival. It had started as a small idea, as I’d been suddenly aware of all the people at the school who were interested in writing, or directing, or acting—but somehow weren’t involved in the theater program. Maybe they wanted to do more than one thing. Maybe they’d never been cast and had eventually given up. But whatever the reason, there were a lot of talented kids and I had time on my hands. So I decided to try to get it started. I loved the idea—all short plays, student written, student directed, student acted. I’d known, of course, that Mr. Campbell was going to be against it. I’d just underestimated how much.