"You're really nice, you know that?" She grabbed my hand without warning and squeezed.
Before I could figure out how to respond to that, Felix appeared with a paint-splattered apron and a manic grin.
"Angelo! You ready to make art?"
"I'm ready to question my life choices."
"Same thing." He tossed me an identical apron. "Come on. The gym awaits."
The gym had been transformed into what I could only describe as organized chaos. Cardboard coffins lined one wall, half-painted and leaning at dangerous angles. Fog machines sat in boxes with instruction manuals scattered around them like casualties. A group of juniors argued about whether the maid costumes should be black and white or purple and black.
Marin Tanigawa stood in the center of it all, wearing cat ears and holding a clipboard like a weapon.
"Felix! Isaiah! You're late!"
We weren't. It was 3:32.
"Sorry, Marin. We were emotionally recovering from Calculus," Felix called back.
