I'm so preoccupied and anxious about tomorrow's cast list posting that it isn't until I'm walking home from school with Thatcher that I remember we planned to hang out in his shed and read through Ralph Waldo Emerson's essay "Self-Reliance," which is due for Mr. Taylor's class tomorrow. After a few text messages between me and my mom, I am clear to take the early after school hours to read and annotate the essay as long as I'm home by dinner time at 6:00pm.

"This is long," I say after taking it out of my binder for the first time all week. "Do you think we will get this all read and annotated by the time I have to go?"

"That's two and a half hours," Thatcher says with a chuckle. "I think we can manage."

Thatcher's shed is usually our peaceful place, where we can get away from his dad and his little brothers, who become increasingly more annoying the longer Thatcher and I date, and where we can be away from my mom's watchful gaze, which, again, becomes increasingly more annoying the longer Thatcher and I date.

Thatcher takes out his binder and the packet of Emerson's essay, and now he's all business.

"OK, so, we will read this together," he says, though he means he will read it out loud while I listen to understand. He's good at making me feel like I'm contributing to reading assignments.

He starts off reading the text, and even though I have become better at reading Shakespeare and this text should be easier, it is way harder. I have no idea why this guy is starting off his essay about being self-reliant by talking about painters and art. I'm only really understanding what Thatcher is reading every other sentence or so, but it sounds like an old-fashioned self-help book.

"Imitation is suicide." OK, so I will be myself, and not imitate others.

"These are the voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world." OK, so as I go further into the world, I will forget what my inner voices told me to do before.

"My life is for itself and not for a spectacle. I much prefer that it should be of a lower strain, so it be genuine and equal, than that it should be glittering and unsteady." OK, so I will live simply and not seek out fame and fortune. Except that I want that. I want to be an actress, and aren't the most success ones famous? So shouldn't I want my life to be glittering? What's wrong with a little glitter?

"It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude." OK, so I should be the same way I am when I'm alone as I am in public.

"I love that line," Thatcher says after reading it. "But I don't know if I do that. Like, who am I when I'm alone? I don't do anything when I'm in solitude," he says, sort of laughing at himself. "So if I just stand in the middle of a crowd, looking at my phone, I'm a great man? Who are we alone?"

"Maybe Emerson means we shouldn't be fake. Like, if we are going to say something in solitude, we should say it in public too," I say. I wonder how Gina is reading this now.

"Probably. It's funny, though, because back then, that's probably what he meant. But now we have phones and we are constantly in public, in a sense at least, because we are on the internet. And way too many people are totally comfortable being their most terrible selves on the internet. That's not greatness to me. So, actually, I don't like this line," Thatcher says with a laugh. "I've found too many problems with it."

I think about this whole conundrum for a moment. Thatcher has a point in questioning it: Who are we when we are alone? I'd argue I'm sort of boring and quiet. Is that the real me? And this theater version is the persona I've grown into as a misfit? Who is the real Janie?

"Let me scan ahead and see if I can figure out what he means," Thatcher says, again, getting back to business. He reads ahead in silence for a bit, and I continue to ponder my own existence. Thanks Emerson. What does it mean that I want a glittering life and that I've sort of formed my personality based on my comfort around my friends? What will that mean if we aren't all cast together? Will I change then?

"Oh, OK, I think I figured out what he's trying to get at. See, down here he writes, 'Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing.' So, I think he's just trying to get at the idea of acting genuinely and not conforming to what everyone around you is doing. So if you wouldn't do something on your own, genuinely, you shouldn't do it in public just because everyone else is."

"What about friends, though? If you did something, I would probably do it too."

"But why would that be? Because you genuinely care about me and want to be with me, or because you want to fit in and conform? I think that might be the heart of what Emerson's trying to say."

"Right, yeah, good point," I say, but the truth is my answer would be because of both of those things. I care about Thatcher and want to be with him, but I also want to fit in.

I want to still be with the misfits, because we, ironically, have fit in with each other. I don't want to lose that, and now with Patti going to Hollywood, I might. Especially if the cast list goes up tomorrow and I'm the only one left out because of my terrible audition.

Thatcher continues to read, but I've lost focus. I can only think about how disappointed Emerson would be in me, because I'm honestly not sure who I am without my friends anymore. I was quiet and shy when I just had Gina, and I've only really opened up to Patti, Moth, and Thatcher. Who will I be when we all graduate?

Before I know it, it's 5:55pm, Emerson's essay is finally over, and I have to get home. Thatcher kisses me goodbye, but I'm still too preoccupied with everything to appreciate it.

I just need to see the cast list already, so I can either take a breather and put my existential crisis on the back burner or start figuring out who I am in the sweetness of solitude.

The next morning, I get a 7/10 on my "Self-Reliance" reading quiz. Not bad considering I barely listened to Thatcher after I got caught up in my thoughts. Now, as the bell for first period to dismiss rings, I feel like I'm floating out of my body, heading down to the theater wing as a hovering cloud of conscious, as if my spirit is rejecting this body full of nerves. My body walks through the hallway, into the stairwell, down the stairs, past the gym with its trophy cases outside, and into the fine arts wing until my body is finally only steps away from where other people in my class are gathered around the cast list, taped to the wall beside the entrance of the theater.

I swallow hard, and my consciousness seems to re-enter my body. Thatcher is in the crowd around the cast list, and even though he's in the back, he's so tall that he is able to read the casting. I tug at his sleeve, like a little kid asking for something from their parents.

He turns.

"Well?" I ask. "Just tell me now so I can process it."

He smiles from ear to ear. "You got a lead part," he exclaims.

"What?"

I'm genuinely shocked. Emerson would be proud of this genuine reaction. I squeeze in front of Thatcher to get a look at the cast list, and there it is:

PUCK - JANIE MYERS

"I'm Puck?" I ask, turning back to Thatcher. He nods excitedly. "I'm Puck!"

"And I'm Lysander!"

This is where Emerson would, again, be disappointed in me. My thoughts immediately go to: "Who is Hermia then?" So I fake a smile.

"Wow, that's great. You're one of the big leads, that's so awesome, congratulations." I gulp. "Who is Hermia?"

I turn around and read the name as Thatcher answers, "Paige."

"Wow, two juniors in lead roles, that's amazing," I say, disingenuously.

"More, actually."

"Right, me too."

"And Moth. He's Bottom. Greg Sussak is Demetrius. Layla is Titania. So there are a few juniors in lead roles."

I continue to read the names of other castings. Emma is Helena. Sean is Oberon. Taylor Valentina is Hippolyta.

"This is all such great news," I say.

Thatcher takes my hand, and I look back at him. "You're disappointed."

I shrug. "Not disappointed, that would be stupid. Puck is a great character, but... I will have to watch you kiss someone else."

He smiles. "It won't be genuine. You're the only person I want to kiss without being forced to."

The bell rings.

"Time to start our first rehearsal," Moth says, appearing out of nowhere and patting us both on the backs. "Let's get to it Lysander and Puck. Let's see me as an ass."

I laugh as Moth guides Thatcher and I into the theater. At least I won't be alone. I won't have to figure out who I am in perfect solitude, because I am in the play with my friends, minus Patti, not including Paige or Layla.

"Welcome thespians," Mrs. Permala greets us from the stage, where she stands beside Patti. "You should have all seen the cast list on the way in today, so I trust you all know your jobs. There is no time to waste. Patricia and I will separate you all into rehearsal groups with the actors your character spends most of their scenes with. You will begin with some trust building activities, and then get into your scenes. While Patti facilitates these three groups, I will be working with my stage crew thespians. Any questions?"

No one says a word, so Mrs. Permala summons the people who were not on the cast list to the back of the theater and into the wings where they will begin set design. Patti takes the lead from here, armed with a clipboard.

"OK, I need the Grecian aristocrats downstage right, my players upstage center, and my fairies downstage left," she orders, sounding like a natural director. We break into our groups after Thatcher squeezes my hand one last time, and in our three zones, I can see my worst fear has actually been realized, despite being cast in the play.

Thatcher is with Paige, away from me, downstage right.

Moth is with a few other goofballs upstage center.

Patti is directing.

And I am downstage left with Layla. I'm with Sean too, who seems nice, but Layla has been glaring at us since we got the parts of A Call from Midnight while she only appeared as an extra.

We are all separated. The misfits aren't together anymore. I can only hope this isn't how every rehearsal will be, otherwise... who will I become?