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cheat.”

“I wasn’t cheating. Just collaborating.”

I shake my head. “Noah.”

Anderson climbs onto his chair, clearing his throat. “Excuse me,” he says.

Everyone falls expectantly silent.

“Ahem. Team Cotton Mather’s Cotton Trousers are a bunch of filthy cheaters, and they should be disqualified. That is all.” Andy steps down, with a final haughty glance for Noah—who beams up at him from the floor.

Something bubbles up inside of me, some inexplicable warm relief. Because Andy and I are us again. We’re back on the same team. And it feels like flipping on a light switch or finishing a puzzle or pressing the cap back onto a tube of ChapStick. Like everything clicking into place at last.

Scene 41

Thursday’s one of those insane weather days where you don’t think it’s the apocalypse, but you’re not one hundred percent sure it’s not the apocalypse. It’s just nonstop booming thunder and flickering lights. I’d be legitimately freaked out if I were home alone. But at school, it just gives me this vaguely excited, anticipatory feeling, like the universe could deliver pretty much anything.

To be fair, that feeling might have something to do with the fact that this afternoon marks the first official Larken/Harry intensive rehearsal. Ninety minutes. With Matt. Just me and Matt. And, okay, Ms. Zhao and Devon and Mr. D and probably some of the tech crew. But still. And that’s not even getting into the fact that we’re blocking “Yesterday I Loved You,” which happens to involve a kiss.

It’s weird. I keep half-forgetting it’s happening, but then I’ll remember it out of nowhere—in the hall, or in class—and I get this jolt. It’s a butterflies in the stomach feeling, but super intense. Butterflies on steroids. To be honest, I can barely keep myself from floating between classes. Everything about today feels infused with magic.

Case in point: Andy and I slip out of class for a carefully coordinated rendezvous in the Bathroom Time Forgot, and who do we run into? Matt Olsson himself. At his locker. In the middle of a class period. I mean, I never see Matt in the halls, even walking between classes. But here he is, and here we are—just the three of us, in an otherwise empty hallway. He hugs both of us, looking genuinely delighted. He’s wearing this soft navy V-neck, more fitted than usual, and something about that color makes his eyes look like denim. After we part ways, Anderson and I spend twenty minutes in our bathroom stalls, pretty much hyperventilating.

It’s happiness overload. So much joy, it barely sinks in. It’s everything—the thrill of being at school in a thunderstorm, the diminishing hours until rehearsal, seeing Matt in the hallway, how extra cute he looked. And it’s the secret thought in my head that maybe—maybe—the extra cuteness on today, of all days, is somehow deliberate. Deliberate in the same way my own outfit is deliberate—swingy short dress, black with flowers, and a jean jacket. Because if you don’t put in that extra ten minutes of effort for an intensive romantic play rehearsal with your crush, what’s the point? I mean, I’m probably overthinking it, and who even knows if boys have that degree of self-awareness. But maybe. Maybe?

Even the thought makes me unravel.

Out of everything, though, the best part’s the bathroom freakout with Anderson. We could barely catch our breath, there was so much to discuss. Those denim eyes, Matt’s lightly tousled hair, and that shirt. That. Shirt.

I don’t know. It was just really nice how, for those twenty minutes in the bathroom, Matt was ours again. Both of ours.

Scene 42

By the end of the school day, the storm’s even worse. Matt walks in sopping wet to rehearsal—cheeks flushed, hair slicked straight against his forehead, like he just stepped out of the shower. I stare at him, almost speechless.

“Left my script in my car,” he explains.

Andy, Raina, and Brandie have all had their first intensive rehearsals already, so I kind of know what to expect. Thirty minutes of vocal rehearsal with Mr. D, thirty minutes of blocking and fine-tuning with Ms. Zhao, and then thirty minutes running through the whole scene, vocals and blocking together. According to Anderson, it can get a little repetitive. But I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing.

I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting a little repetitive with that Harry/Larken kiss. Not that I’ve been obsessing about the kiss, the kiss, the kiss, the kiss, the kiss, the kiss, the kiss, the kiss.

The.

Kiss.

Wow. I’m so totally chill right now. Just so normal and fine and not losing my shit.

“Harry and Larken, come on down,” Mr. D calls, and then he starts playing the theme song to The Price is Right. Mr. D is so extra, and I love it. “Okay, let’s warm up. Starting on ah.”

We settle in at the edge of the piano, side by side, singing along to all fifty million scales Mr. D gets in his head. Everything. Major key, minor key, up to the top edges of our ranges, and back down again.

“Now ooh.”

There’s something wonderful, almost conspiratorial, about running through silly warm-ups with Matt. Not to mention the fact that silly warm-ups make Matt even cuter. He stands perfectly stick-straight, like a choirboy, clutching his hands to his diaphragm. And his wet hair’s curling so sweetly around his ears, winging out slightly in the back. My heart can’t take it.

“Great. Let’s do . . . bah!” But as soon as Mr. D suggests it, there’s a massive clap of thunder. “Hmm. No bah?” He peers up at the ceiling like he’s consulting with God.

The lights flicker.

“No bah,” says Matt.

Mr. D nods. “I can take a hint. Better hop straight into the songs while we still have power, am I right?”

We start with “In a Little While,” and Matt leans over to tell me it’s his absolute favorite of our songs.

It’s my favorite, too. I actually think it’s my favorite song in the show. It’s hard to explain why it’s so relatable, but it is. It really is. Like, on

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