I shook my head. Ethan went over to Margot’s house for a movie night every Thursday, and they only watched musicals. “Don’t you guys ever get sick of musicals?”

“How dare you.”

I rolled my eyes. I was sick of musicals after a single day of auditioning for one. The first run-through of my dance audition had actually felt kind of good, letting my body move to music again. But the second had been certifiably horrible, and afterward I completely freaked out.

“Really, though. Why do you like them?” I asked. “They’re so…” I tried to think of a description that was true but wasn’t super rude.

“Cheesy? Embarrassing?” Margot said.

“Exactly. And you’re neither of those things.”

“How do you know? My outside may be sarcasm, but inside I’m cheese.”

I smirked. “Can that be your yearbook quote?”

“‘Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling,’” Margot said, spinning her pencil around her middle finger.

“What?”

“That’s my yearbook quote. It’s from Heathers.”

“Is that a musical?”

Margot squinted one eye at me, trying to figure out if I was kidding. “It was a movie and then it got turned into a musical. And to answer your judgy question, I like musicals because they’re loud and weird. And I’m loud and weird. Plus, the people who do the musical here don’t care if they’re cool or popular or whatever. It’s refreshing.”

I nodded. I guess that made sense. As far as I could tell, everyone else at Eagle View cared a lot about being “cool.” Over two thousand kids went here, so you’d expect some variety. But mostly, people traveled in big, samey packs, talking about things that didn’t matter while looking generally unimpressed with the world.

“Were ballet people like that?” Margot asked. “Did they care about being cool or were they too focused on their dancing?”

I stiffened. I didn’t want to talk about ballet. I knew that was what friends were supposed to do—talk about the hard stuff—but this friendship was new and fun and as free from awfulness as anything could be right now. I didn’t want to weigh it down. And Margot couldn’t really understand what I was feeling, anyway.

“Wait, so, what were you going to say earlier? You said you were going to text me,” I said, deflecting.

“Oh. Yeah. I was saying I’ll text you when I see the callback list.” Margot had music appreciation in the choir room first period, where Mrs. Sorenson would post the list.

“Sure, but I’m not going to be on it if they only do callbacks for the main parts. You heard me sing, right? Not musical theater god material.”

“Never know,” Margot said. “And speaking of musical theater gods, did you give Jude the finger?”

“No comment.”