The Tree Hill High auditorium looked like it had been through a hurricane... or maybe just a week of teenagers trying to build a set without adult supervision. Haley stood at center stage, hands on her hips, staring at the half-painted flats, the pile of costume fabric dumped in a corner, and a plastic sword sticking out of a prop box like it had been stabbed there in frustration.

"Yep," she muttered to herself. "This is exactly how I pictured spending my Thursday afternoon."

Principal Turner had practically begged her to step in and help with the spring musical while the drama teacher was out. She’d said no—twice. But then she’d walked past the choir room and heard the kids whispering about the show being canceled, and well... she was a sucker. Especially when music was involved.

The sound of footsteps echoed from backstage, followed by the soft thud of a binder hitting the floor and a very colorful swear word. Haley’s head tilted toward the wings just as she emerged, juggling a stack of sheet music and a travel coffee cup that looked suspiciously like her lifeline. She was new—she knew that much. Some kind of big-deal vocal coach the school had brought in to help keep the production afloat.

"Hey," she called, grinning as she tried to push a stubborn curtain out of her face without spilling her coffee. "You must be the cavalry."