BEATRICE
The auditorium is huge. Finer than any room I've ever seen. Students crowd into velvet-cushioned seats, their voices rising in waves. Some are excited, some are bored, some are pretending not to care while craning their necks for a better view of the stage. A spotlight slices the air, golden and theatrical. Everything feels grander here, shinier. Fancy. Like we've all stepped onto a different tier of high school.
I sit near the back, where the shadows are softer and the expectations quieter.
On stage, the cheer squad is mid-routine, glitter flashing off their pom-poms as they kick and tumble across the boards like they were born under stage lights. The crowd goes wild for it.
Stella nudges me. "This is ridiculous," she whispers, rolling her eyes. "All this pomp for a play?"
I
