I walked into the empty auditorium, cringing. I'd probably come to the wrong place. Shit.

"Hey!" I heard, instantly causing me to jump.

"Geez," I gasped, struggling to breathe as the light flipped on. "What the fu—" I stopped when I saw Christine. "Uh, is this where we meet for play rehearsal?"

"No, this is where we meet for swim team."

So I had come to the wrong place. I turned to leave when she laughed, "This is Play Rehearsal, I'm kidding."

"Oh, uh, well I'm Jeremy!" I said confidently.

I cringed in embarrassment. Christine laughed. "You're funny. I'm Christine."

"Yeah, I know." I fidgeted with the hem of my sweater. "So, uh, this is definitely where we meet for play rehearsal? Cause there's no one else here..."

She nodded. "Yeah, the only stuff that happens here is drama club. And sometimes people come to make out. Or cry. I personally prefer screaming."

I gave an awkward laugh. The door opened and in came Rich, Jake, and the Selfie Squad. So that's nice. But that saved me from making things weird with a stupid response so I was sort of thankful for that.

Soon after the popular crowd came in was the drama teacher. Mr. Reyes. Kind of scatterbrained. Weird. Sort of a hippie. Probably smoked weed on the weekends. Had an addiction to Hot Pockets, one of which he was currently eating.

Weird.

"Everyone, if you don't know me, I'm Mr. Reyes. Your drama teacher, or you may recognize me from my full time job at the Hobby Lobby!" He dramatically waved his arms as if the Hobby Lobby was the most exciting thing ever.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

"In my thirty years of drama, I've dreamed of directing Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream." Christine excitedly sat up straight beside me, grinning like a puppy dog. "And today that dream dies."

Christine's face fell. "What?"

"The school board says they're cutting our funding if we don't increase attendance," Reyes sighed, "so instead of a classic piece of literature, we will instead be performing A Midsummer Nightmare: With Zombies."

"Don't you even care about Shakespeare's legacy?" She stood indignantly. "This is basically spitting on his grave!"

"He's dead, get over it," Mr. Reyes groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'll be assigning parts and scripts tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll be eating a Hot Pocket in the teacher's lounge."

What a weirdo.