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“You’re a freaking genius.”

I bow and we both simultaneously crack up and shake our heads at how ridiculous this situation has become. It’s easy to push away the guilt of letting down Dad when I’m laughing with Nathan.

“Are you okay, though?” I ask him. “You looked like you were about to pass out.”

The smile falls from his face. “I don’t like lying to your father.”

“I don’t either. Though Ididtell him the truth—that we’re only friends. Unless we’re still mutually annoyed coworkers.”

That lifts the corner of his mouth into another small smile. “If we’re discussing Pop-Tart wedding cakes, then I think we’ve officially moved beyond that.”

An irrational thrill rolls through me at his words.

“We could go back and tell him the truth—the full story?”

Nathan shivers. “Oof, that would be embarrassing. Hey, Mr. Morris? The girl I like isn’t interested in me, so your daughter is pity-flirting with me to get her attention.” Hegrimaces and runs a hand through his hair. “That sounds even more pathetic out loud than it did in my head.”

I can’t help laughing. “It’s…not the best.”

He glares at me. “Don’t pretend your part in this isn’t embarrassing too. You’re the one person who can’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging you. I need you.”

His eyes flash up at me and I mentally kick myself. I can’t blurt things out like that around him.

“You know what I mean. I need you to throw Paul’s condescension back in his face.” I mess with my nails in order to avoid making eye contact. “So we’re not telling my dad everything?”

“Unless you want to. I don’t want to cause any problems between you two.”

“It’s fine. And…we’re good? Still flirting partners in crime?”

“Yeah. If you think you can handle it,” he says with a small mischievous grin.

“I can,” I reply confidently, even though that grin is melting my insides into goo.

Chapter Fifteen

“How’d it go?” Hoshiko asks as I sit down at the cafeteria table on Friday.

She’s wearing an old Columbus Children’s Theater shirt and her hair is in double French braids. I’m a little more tame than usual in a black and taupe plaid dress and ankle boots. It’s less colorful than usual, but I can’t resist an autumn moment.

“Well, I got five more names, so that’s something,” I reply. “Theyallwant us to choose a different musical if it happens this year—but I convinced them to audition no matter what.”

I skim over the names again. With these five, and the four people Hoshiko was able to convince, I’m up to almost forty students who say they’d be interested in auditioning for a speaking role or being in the chorus of a future musical. I’ve been pitching the idea to everyone I see for the last week in the hopes that I can show the administration we have a lot of buy-in from the student body this year. I have two and ahalf weeks until the big presentation and I’m still not sure I’ll have enough to convince them.

“You’re doing awesome,” Hoshiko says.

“But not everyone who is signing this sheet is going to audition.” I shake my head. “I don’t know if this will be enough.”

“You can only do so much, Riley. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Only do so much of what?” Lucas asks as he sits down at our table.

“I’m trying to rally support for the musical.” I shrug and steal a chip from Hoshiko.

“She needs to convince Principal Holloway that there’s enough interest to keep the musical this year,” Hoshiko explains to him.

“Why don’t you put together a show or something?” he says while dunking a chicken nugget in ketchup.