I know I was pretty upset when I left for drama camp, but once I got there, camp was everything. It was like something I’d always dreamed about—but better. Every morning we had these rotating classes: scene study, vocal technique, a couple of different styles of dance, and improv. It was all really serious training that could help elevate our performances. Then, in the afternoon, we alternated between show rehearsals and typical camp stuff, like hiking, swimming, and volleyball, which, by the way, I am terrible at. Although, randomly, I’m really good at archery. Not sure why.

The camp itself was beautiful. It was set right on the lake, surrounded by trees and, like, this beautiful natural landscape. Each age group had its own cluster of cabins, and there were larger buildings for the mess hall, the theater, and rehearsal spaces. It was like its own little idyllic world, and such a nice change from Salt Lake City. It felt good to switch things up.

The best thing about camp, though, was that we lived and breathed musicals. In the morning, they woke us up by blasting show tunes over the loudspeakers. Being jolted awake at seven a.m. by “Do You Hear the People Sing?” from Les Mis is actually completely energizing. You’re motivated all day. If those people in Paris could stage a revolution, we could definitely stage a play in under four weeks. And then, at lunch, it seemed like someone would always hum a few bars of a random ballad, and suddenly the whole table would join in, and then the whole mess hall was spontaneously belting it out. Yeah, I know, it sounds kind of cheesy, but mostly it was amazing.

But our showcase production was really the best part. The way it worked at camp was we were divided into groups and at the end of the session, each group performed a final, main-stage play. This year’s plays were Hairspray; Once Upon a Mattress; Bye Bye Birdie; and the one I was in, The Music Man.

Have you ever seen it? It’s so good. It’s about this traveling salesman, Harold Hill, who sells expensive marching band instruments to all the kids in this small town in Iowa. And he promises he’ll teach them all how to play, but he doesn’t actually know a thing about music. And the town librarian, Marian, she’s the only one who sees right through his act. But then she ends up falling in love with him, and he with her, and…well, I don’t want to ruin the ending for you. You should see it for yourself. But it’s basically considered a classic of American Broadway musicals.

Anyway, every camper got to be in a play, but you still had to audition for parts. And they held auditions on the second day of camp, so there wasn’t a lot of time to settle in beforehand. For my tryout, I sang “Goodnight, My Someone,” a power ballad Marian sings. I was totally nervous. I’d been practicing at home before I left, but so had everyone else. You should have heard some of these kids sing. They were amazing. Still, I must have made an impression on the director, because for the first time ever, I was cast in not just an actual speaking part, but a featured supporting role. They cast me to play Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn, the mayor’s wife. She’s in a bunch of small group numbers, has a lot of lines, and supplies some major comic relief in the show. I couldn’t believe it. I messaged Kourt right when the cast list went up.

Niniukegirl: So excited! I got a great part with lines! I’m playing the mayor’s wife in The Music Man!

Kourtneymakeuptips1: I’m not surprised. I always knew you were destined for big things!

Niniukegirl: You were right! Camp is amazing!

Kourtneymakeuptips1: You go, girl! I wish I was coming up with your moms and grandma to see the show! So proud!

Oh, I almost forgot the other part. I was also cast as the understudy for Marian the librarian. She’s the lead of the entire show. That means the casting people liked me enough to consider me for the lead role but decided to go a different way, which was way flattering. The girl who got the lead, Emily Pratt, is so talented. I was hoping we could rehearse a ton together, which would have been pretty exciting.

This other pretty amazing thing happened, too. I talked to E. J. Caswell. Of course I knew who E.J. was. He’s kind of a big deal at East High. He’s co-captain of the water polo team and was set to be the senior class treasurer. But I mean, I mostly know him from our school plays, or more like know of him. He’s always been the male lead since I’ve been going to East High. He got the second lead starting his freshman year, which is basically unprecedented. But he is the type of person you can’t take your eyes off when he performs. Not just because he’s gorgeous, which, obviously, he is, but because he does this thing onstage where he commands it. He draws you in with this charismatic stage presence. Like when he played Herbie in Gypsy. Wow. People gave him a standing ovation. So yeah, I knew who E.J. was. What I didn’t know was that he went to my camp.

He caught me staring at him the first night in the mess hall. I didn’t mean to; I just did a double take because I wasn’t expecting to see him there. But he smiled at me, like he recognized me, too. I thought I must be imagining it, because why would he know who I was?

But then the second day of camp, after auditions, E.J. walked up to me. I thought maybe he thought I was someone else.

“Hey, you go to East High, right?” he said.

“Yes,” I said. I was so nervous I could barely talk.

“I thought so,” he said, smiling that dazzling E. J. Caswell smile. “You were in Gypsy with me, right? You played half the horse?”

I just nodded. Good thing Kourtney wasn’t there. She would not have been pleased with my total lack of girl-power presence. But I couldn’t help it. I was shocked.

“You had a really strong audition today,” he said. “I think you’ve been really undervalued at East High. I’ll be surprised if you don’t get a great speaking role in the production.”

Then he smiled and started to walk away. “Hey, it was good talking to you,” he said, turning back. “You should speak up more often. People should hear your voice.”

I basically floated on air for the rest of the day. It was the best day I’d had in a long time—until the next day, when they posted the cast list.