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eyes.
    As I’m staring at him, he looks up and catches my gaze. The corner of his mouth lifts and one of his hands comes away from his book as if he’s actually going to smile and wave. Then he notices Connor, and within a second he’s back to his book, like he hadn’t seen me at all.
    Connor raises his eyebrows. “Uh, did I just do something to piss him off? He looked like he wanted to kill me.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” I say with a sigh. “He’s like that with everyone.”
    Before long, the dean steps up to the podium and welcomes us. He gives a speech about how proud we must be to have made it into the most prestigious arts college in the country, and even though he’s probably given the same speech for years, his words make me puff up like peacock. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m achieving something for me and not for my parents. It feels good.
    When the dean finishes, the lecture theater empties quickly, and we all scurry off to our first day of classes.
    Ruby waves good-bye to me and Connor, and heads to her stage management class. When she’s gone, Connor drapes his arm around my shoulders and steers me toward our first acting class. Although it feels weird that he’s so comfortable invading my personal space when we hardly know each other, it also feels nice. I’m not used to boys putting their nicely muscled arms around my shoulders, but I could get used to it.
    We walk into a large, empty room with bare brick walls and a rough carpet. Following the example of those already there, we dump our bags at the perimeter of the room and sit on the floor.
    I look around at the rest of our class. So many new people to meet and please. My pathetic need to make them like me flares to life, and a sick sweat breaks out on my forehead.
    “You okay?” Connor asks, his hand on my back.
    “Yeah. Just a little nervous.”
    “Here,” he says as he moves behind me. “I’ll help you relax.”
    When he massages my tense shoulder muscles, I almost groan.
    Despite his talented hands, I’ve got Connor’s number. He wants to be the caring, supportive boy. Fine by me. I want to be supported. It’s win-win.
    The rest of the class chats and laughs, but I only see a few faces I know. A short distance away is Zoe and the strawberry blonde I saw on the first day of auditions. I think her name is Phoebe. True to form, they’re chatting loudly and saying “Ohmigod” a lot. In the corner are Troy and Mariska, a brother and sister who seem freaky and quiet.
    There’s a girl with spiky dark hair named Miranda, who I’m pretty sure hit on me at the callbacks, and a dark guy in a leather jacket called Lucas. He’s sitting next to a curly headed jokester named Jack who had everyone in stitches at the callbacks. He’s cracking Lucas up by beatboxing using Disney character voices.
    As I scan the room, Holt walks in. When he sees Connor massaging my back, he rolls his eyes and takes a seat as far from me as possible.
    Whatever.
    I don’t get Holt. Usually I know what people expect from me within minutes of meeting them.
    You want me to laugh at your jokes? Okay.
    Oh, please tell me about your hopes and dreams! That’d be great!
    A shoulder to cry on? No problem.
    But with Holt … it’s like he wants me to not exist. That’s something I don’t know how to do.
    I should be hurt by his behavior, but I’m not. It just makes him a huge, moody, good-smelling puzzle that I’m determined to figure out.
    Before long, Erika sweeps into the room and everyone falls silent.
    “Okay. This is Advanced Acting, otherwise known as leave-your-bullshit-at-the-door-or-I’ll-kick-your-ass class. In here, I don’t care if you’re tired or scared or hungover or high. I expect one hundred percent of your effort one hundred percent of the time. If you’re incapable of that, then don’t show up. I don’t want to deal with you.”
    A few people look around nervously, including me.
    “You’re all here because we saw