through a lot of pages that weren’t about him, and figure out how to pair the best keywords with your search. I hadn’t even been looking for anything in particular—just idly searching and avoiding writing about the Stamp Act (my working title was “Who Cares About the Stamp Act,” but obviously I was planning on changing it)—when I found the website.
It was for a theater company in New York, the Echo Theater Company. I’d had to go several pages into the website to confirm it was really him, onto a page with pictures of the members of the group. But there he was, in a black-and-white headshot that looked a few years old, under the name B. L. Campbell. He was the founding director of the company, and it seemed like he wrote and acted in a lot of their plays as well.
I’d just stared at my laptop for a few moments, heart hammering, not able to believe how cool this was. It was like finding out Mr. Campbell was a superhero, with a whole other life and a secret identity. But a second later, I realized that he’d never mentioned this at all—and that I probably shouldn’t let him know that I’d found it. The last thing I wanted was for him to be mad, or feel that I had crossed some line. Because if everyone knew, we all would have shown up to see his plays—that was just a given. Which was maybe why, I’d realized as I clicked through the website, he hadn’t. He probably wanted something that was separate from us, from his job in Connecticut. Probably the other members of his company were cool New York City people and wouldn’t have appreciated a whole bunch of suburban teenagers suddenly showing up.
But even though I’d never been to see any of the shows—or told anyone but Stevie about my Echo Theater discovery—I still checked the website occasionally. Which was how that I knew that a new play—Navel Gazing, written and directed by Mr. Campbell—was premiering at the Echo Theater tonight.
“Anyway,” Mr. Campbell said, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry about the list, guys. I know you were expecting it. But I promise it’ll be soon.” He gave us all a smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners, then glanced at his watch. “And somehow class is now half over. On your feet, everyone! Warm-ups!”
We all jumped to our feet, Mr. Campbell moved his chair out of the way, and with only twenty minutes left, class officially began.
STARBUCKS COFFEE COMPANY
11/5
2:15 PM
CAT
Hot
Grande
Mocha
ASK ME
One pump white mocha
STEVE
Iced
Venti
Sugar-free vanilla
Soy
Latte
ASK ME
Only two shots espresso
Only four pumps sugar-free vanilla
Less ice
Still ice, but just less than normal
Like half the amount of ice
(guest seems overly concerned about the ice)
PAID
Starbucks card account XXXXXXXXXXXX1981
I frowned at Stevie’s Starbucks cup. “Is there enough ice in there?” I had ordered for both of us—I had long since memorized Stevie’s far-too-complicated latte order—and I wanted to make sure it was right.
“It’s perfect,” Stevie assured me with a laugh. She took a sip and then made a face.
“What?”
“It’s fine,” she said hurriedly. “I think maybe they put three shots of espresso in, not two. But it comes with three, so maybe they got confused. It’s okay—”
I shook my head and took the drink from her, walking back to the place where you pick up drinks. “Hi again,” I said, smiling at the barista, who raised an eyebrow at me. “This was just supposed to have just two shots in it?”
“It’s fine,” Stevie whispered, coming to join me. “We don’t need to make a thing. I can just ask for more soy milk.”
“I’ve seen three-shot Stevie,” I reminded her. “Three-shot Stevie is not a good idea.”
“I’ll remake it,” the barista said with a sigh. I took off Stevie’s lid and straw, and she took the cup from me.
“Thank you!” I called, and took a sip of my mocha. There were three Starbucks in Stanwich, in addition to Stubbs Coffee, one town over in Putnam, and Flask’s Coffee, which Stevie preferred. But since my ex Glenn preferred it too, we’d switched to Starbucks after running into him three days straight—the last thing I wanted was for him to think that I was going there hoping to see him. It was bad enough that our relationship had landed me with bangs.
Because we hadn’t had our first Lear meeting after school, Stevie and I had found ourselves at loose ends once the final bell rang. We’d hung out in the lobby with Teri