But it’s a big change for all of us. It kind of feels like how it was when I went from elementary to middle school—all-new buildings, all-new people, a whole new schedule. Our old set in the Valley felt like a comfortable old Converse sneaker, worn in all the right ways. I knew which table in the old studio’s commissary—that’s a fancy word for the cafeteria—had the wiggly leg. I was used to the smell of the cedar trees near my old trailer. We even had a resident dog, Popcorn, who belonged to a producer on a show one stage over.

But this place? When my parents dropped me off at Silver Screen this morning, everything felt just a little bit…off. There’s no comfortable hum of traffic from the freeway like there was at the old studio. I hear they don’t have a frozen yogurt machine in the commissary. There’s no Popcorn the dog! Some of the faces are familiar, brought over from our old team, but a lot of people are strangers.

Also, it seems like everyone takes things a little more seriously at Silver Screen. It’s barely 7 a.m., and crew and staff are already rushing around, headsets on, clipboards in hand. I spot Tina, who worked at craft services at our old place, carrying a crate of goodies. Craft services are the amazing people who bring the actors meals and snacks on the set. I give Tina a wave, grateful for someone familiar. She turns and waves back.

“Hayley Bo-Bailey! Made those banana muffins you love—and got some tuna for Salmon!” Tina gestures at the palm trees that jut over the buildings. “Isn’t it amazing to be in Hollywood now?”

“You know it!” I answer back.

It’s true: despite all of this being new, I do love Hollywood. There’s something so historic about this part of town. Practically in front of every building is a plaque saying that some important film star once lived there. I love walking past Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, where they’ve held the Oscars, and imagining myself sweeping up the red carpet to win an award someday. Getting the part in Sadie Solves It has been my proudest achievement, so it feels fitting that I get to shoot the show actually in Hollywood.

“There you are,” calls a voice.

The three of us turn. Cody groans inwardly. Coming toward us is ten-year-old Amelia Hart, who plays Pepper, Sadie’s little sister. Her brown pigtails stick out from the sides of her head like two paintbrushes. Her gray eyes dart back and forth. Amelia is a drama queen, a major snoop, and she has bat-like hearing. I swear, she can hear gossip two miles away in the middle of a thunderstorm.