Outside of one of the school's entrances, on a big patio with a few round seating benches, are Patti and Moth. They seem to be going a lot of places together too lately, I think to myself, and wonder if anything has changed between them. I can't think about it for very long though, because Patti immediately rushes up to us to talk about Ensemble.

"Today's the day," she squeals. Her hair is pulled back tightly against her scalp before bursting into a frizzy, curled ponytail that bounces as she hops up and down. "We are finally in Ensemble Theater. Well, Janie you haven't had to wait very long, but Timothy and Thatcher, we have been waiting for this since freshman year. Can you believe it is finally here?"

Moth joined the conversation halfway through her little speech after walking to catch up with her. He sips some strong coffee from the smell of it and nods. "It's going to be sick, for sure. Just as soon as I'm awake. I couldn't sleep last night."

"Me either, I was too excited," Patti says in such a hurried way that it seems she's had many, many coffees by this point.

"That and I never sleep the night before the first day. I always have too much on my mind," Moth replies.

"I get like that too," Thatcher says. "Even if I don't really care about what's going on in my head."

"Right?" Moth agrees. "Like, I always get OK grades without even trying, but it's just getting back into the routine of school again and knowing it won't stop for another four quarters. It bums me out."

"At least we get to have theater, lunch, and science together," I tell him.

"Uh, uh, uh," Patti corrects me. "Not theater. Ensemble."

The bell rings for everyone to start making their way into school, and other early birds like us start making their ways toward the entrances.

"OK, so we will see each other for Ensemble," Patti says like we are about to go into battle and have to remember our missions. "Thatcher, you have Buford for homeroom, and Moth has math with Wyler; so you two should walk together. Janie, you have Tyler, and I am close enough with Donner in the social studies department; so we will walk together."

"OK," Thatcher says, sort of as a question, and chuckles.

Moth salutes her. "Yes, sarge."

We follow the crowd into the school, and before we break into the pairs Patti assigned to us, Thatcher leans down to kiss my cheek. "See you soon."

"See you," I reply.

"Oohh, that was cute," Moth says half-heartedly. He shakes his head at himself. "Sorry, the caffeine hasn't kicked in yet. I'll do better to make a scene in a little while."

I laugh. "OK, I'll look forward to that."

He nods, and Thatcher flashes me one more smile before the two of them turn down a hallway, away from me and Patti.

"I can barely contain myself, I'm so happy to finally be in Ensemble," Patti says as she practically bounces down the hall with me.

While we walk, people lean into us or tap us to tell us things like, "Great job on the show," or, "You were awesome," or, "Congratulations." It's so bizarre how many eyes stop to follow us down the hall and how many strangers basically know us and recognize us now. Until a few months ago, I was always the invisible girl, to the point where none of my teachers even noticed how much I struggled, and now everyone sees me. This must be what it's like to be popular. Oh my goodness, are we popular now?

Patti grabs my shoulder. "What do you think?" she asks.

Oops, she's been talking this whole time that I've been distracted by people in the hall. "I'm sorry, I was totally distracted. What do I think about what?"

"About coming over after school to read through whatever script Permala has for us?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd love to as long as my mom lets me, but she's been sucking up to me since everything that happened last year so I'm thinking that won't be a problem. As long as she doesn't get strict again now that we're back in school."

"Well, we'll just call it tutoring if she has something to say." She stops in front of a door with a grumpy looking teacher, Ms. Donner standing outside passing out papers. "This is me," Patti says. "See you next period."

"Fill out this questionnaire," Ms. Donner tells Patti in a monotone voice once Patti turns to face her.

Patti shoots me a pleading look over her shoulder. "It begins," she whispers.

I laugh.

"You in my homeroom too?" Ms. Donner asks me in the same monotone.

"Nope, I'll keep it moving," I reply, heading down the hall.

"Janie Myers," someone greets me soon after I leave Patti's homeroom. It's Mrs. Thomas, the guidance counselor. She's wearing a grey pencil skirt and jacket combo with a lavender button down shirt underneath and sparkly silver shoes that click on the tile floor as she approaches me.

"How are you this morning?" she asks once she crosses the pathway of traffic to join me on my way to Mr. Taylor's room.

"Good."

"I saw the episode last night. I wasn't in town, but I watched at home. Excellent work. I was truly frightened for your character, Amy."

"Amanda. Thanks," I reply.

"Amanda, right. So, are you excited for theater class this year? I'm glad you really hit it off with the program."

"I am, and yeah, thanks. It was a good idea to put me in it."

I never really know what to say to Mrs. Thomas, since the last few times, I've been in trouble. But this conversation seems like a regular old check-in.

"I'm so glad. Enjoy it and have a great first day," she says, slowing down to stop walking alongside me.

"Thanks," I say over my shoulder, and then after a few more steps, I'm at Mr. Taylor's room for homeroom and class.

He's at the door, wearing a jacket with the same sort of patches Thatcher has on his sweater today, and smiles. "Why hello Ms. Hollywood, welcome to my humble classroom," he says.

"Hey Mr. Taylor," I reply with a reluctant smile.

"I saw the episode."

"And?"

"Well, I will definitely take some of the credit for your acting. You know, because of the parts you had in Macbeth last year. I really helped you with your delivery of those lines."

"Uh huh."

"But aside from that, I was insanely proud of all four of you. Well, six, I guess, since Layla Monroe and Greg Sussek were extras, but still. Every time any of you were on the screen, I'd turn to my wife and tell her I taught you."

I chuckle. "How'd she like that?"

"Oh, she hated it, but—Hello, welcome back—she entered into this marriage knowing full well how much I talk during TV shows and movies. I am free of blame for that."

"Obviously," I joke. "So, I can sit anywhere in there?"

"Yeah, go ahead in. I won't keep you talking, I'm sure you have more adoring fans inside. Welcome back."

"Thanks, Mr. Taylor," I reply and head into his class. Since we were so early coming into school, not everyone is inside yet, but there is one familiar face in the room so far: Gina.

She hasn't seen me yet, because she's on her phone, but I can't just stand here forever without seeming like I'm creepily staring at her, which I am. I could pretend like I didn't see her, which I think is petty and unbelievable given there are only, like, four other people in the room right now. Or I could go and sit with her and catch up. It would be awkward at first, since we haven't spoken in months and aren't friends anymore, but maybe she's changed and it will actually be cool.

I decide to sit with her.

"Hey," I say, and she looks up from her phone.

She blinks a bunch and smiles, like I'm the very last person she ever imagined seeing today. "Hey, are you in this class?"

"Yep, I guess we finally have a class together. Well, aside from theater last year."

"Ugh, don't remind me. Did you want to sit?" She moves her backpack from the seat next to her.

"Sure, thanks," I reply. "So, how was your summer?"

"Boring A-F. But I picked up a hobby, since I realized last year how completely talentless at both sewing and theater I am."

"What is it?"

"Don't laugh."

"I won't."

"Promise?" She picks up her phone again and enters in the passcode.

"Yeah, I promise. I've never made fun of you."

She doesn't hear my subtle shade apparently, because she opens up her photos app without hesitation and scrolls through until she finds what she's trying to show me.

"Photography," she says as she hands me her phone. "Scroll to the right."

First is a picture of a wildflower in a field, with the flower in the focus but the field behind it blurry. Then some pictures of stuff around her house. Stuff that I still know well enough to know that she moved them into places with better lighting, like a snow globe that would normally be on her dresser but was now on her windowsill. Then pictures of Dylan, her ex-boyfriend, or maybe not her ex anymore?

"Are you two back together?" I ask, turning the phone to face her.

She smiles wryly and grabs her phone back. "Yes. We got back together at the end of June. I finally gave him another chance, and he's been good for me I think. I took him on my family's yearly trip to the shore, and he definitely impressed the rents."

"Really? That's good," I say. She always used to take me on that trip, so I feel jealous for a quick moment before remembering that it wouldn't make any sense for her to bring me this year and that I wouldn't have had any fun.

"Yeah, it was fun," she says, smiling at her phone for a moment. Then she puts it back on her desk, face down.

"I'm happy for you," I say. "I'm glad you're doing well."

"I am, thanks."

She doesn't mention anything about the show or ask me about me, which I'm only slightly surprised by, and then the late bell rings and Mr. Taylor comes back into the room. By now, our first period peers have all come into class, and I can see that there isn't anyone else I know in the class, or at least that I know well.

"Alright, welcome everyone to English 11, also known as American Literature. I'm your teacher, Mr. Taylor. Some of you have had me in the past, some of you haven't. Those who have know the drill, but those who haven't: prepare for lots of reading and high expectations."

Gina turns to me and rolls her eyes. I don't react, but to look back at Mr. Taylor. He's cool, and I do not want to make an enemy of him.

"Wherever you're sitting now, that'll be your seat for at least this first week, maybe longer, because seating charts are the bane of my existence and you're all old enough to sit yourselves where you can best learn."

Great, I think. Maybe I made a mistake sitting next to someone who barely takes anything seriously while I'm trying to better myself.

"Looks like we'll be catching up and finally making the most of our class together," Gina leans over to whisper to me.

Ugh.

"Mm hm," I reply without opening my mouth.

Can it be second period now, please? I look at the clock. One minute down, thirty-nine more to go.