That’s what happens when you stay up half the night reading a play. “You missed breakfast,” says Cam. “Here.” He hands me a greasy fried-egg sandwich, still warm. “Thanks,” I say, licking the ketchup that’s already running down my hand. “I think.” “Where were you?” “Slept in,” I mumble, up to my elbows in drippy sandwich. “Up late.” “Got your English essay?” asks Jeremy. “Darn! I forgot.” Odette’s sitting in the seat across from me, alone and studying, as usual. Without taking her eyes from her book, she says, “So, big stars don’t have to do homework anymore?” Then she looks up and makes a face at my sloppy sandwich. “You are so disgusting!” I ignore her and lick my fingers. “Thanks, Cam. Listen, company rehearsal is amazing. It’s so different from ours.
