Principal Durden gave an uneasy chuckle. The sort of laugh that meant the opposite of funny.

“That may have been the case,” she said, “but there’s been a few changes and several openings.”

“Eeep!” said Imogen. She raised her fists to her mouth in trembling balls of delight.

“And as of this moment, you four are enrolled.”

“No!” said Wynonna. “I refuse!”

“If you refuse,” said Principal Durden, “you will be officially banned from prom.”

My stomach was a cinder block, plunging to the bottom of the Challenger Deep.

“WHAT?” said Wynonna.

“Nuh-uh,” said Holden.

“Ooh, I hope I get Viola,” Imogen whispered to herself.

“Yuh-huh,” said Principal Durden. “I’ll talk to security and make sure you never set foot in prom. Unless you attend each and every day of class, as well as the final production—which is conveniently the day before prom.”

Holden’s face was solemn. He sent a subtle, contemplative glance my way. I responded with the obvious look of someone whose stomach was resting on the bottom of the ocean. He returned his gaze to his mom.

“Fine,” said Holden. “Ezra and I will do the Shakespeare thingy. Right, Ezra?”

Principal Durden looked at me expectantly. Meanwhile, I had temporarily forgotten how to breathe.

“Right, Ezra?” Holden repeated. There was nothing subtle about his look now. He was glaring at me.

He was doing this for me.

I pinched my mouth shut and nodded my head—because if I opened my mouth, I might start hyperventilating.

“Screw this,” said Wynonna. She pushed her chair back, stood up indignantly, and started for the door. “Screw this Shakespeare bullshit. Screw prom. I’m out.”

She opened the door, walked out, and slammed it behind her with a mighty THWACK!

The silence that filled Principal Durden’s office was tense and slightly asphyxiating.

“Let… me talk to her,” said Imogen. She stood up. “Oh, and I’m in. I mean… I accept the terms of my punishment. Um. Do I talk to you if I’m interested in the role of Viola?”

“You definitely don’t talk to me,” said Principal Durden. “I have no say in the matter whatsoever.”

“Right. Yes. Of course.”

Imogen hesitated awkwardly in the office for a moment, then rushed out the door after her friend. Miraculously, she managed to shut the door quietly behind her. There was a soft click, then a rapid clap of footsteps down the hall.

“So,” said Principal Durden, “I suppose you two will be wanting a ride home?”

“Yes, please,” I said.

“No thanks,” said Holden. “Heroes don’t accept favors from the totalitarian machine.”

“Not even for Taco Bell?” she asked. “I’ll buy, but it’s out of your college fund.”

Holden paused, mulling this over with grave consideration. Finally, he nodded. “Heroes can make an exception for Taco Bell.”