Micah followed the group of pretty boys down the hallway and stepped into a bright room at the end.
Inside, a crowd of boys stood waiting, forming uneven lines while two men with clipboards paced along the row. Their expressions were sharp, like they were choosing vegetables instead of people. Every few seconds, one of them would stop, look up, and say either in or out. And just like that, the chosen one stayed while the unlucky were led toward the exit.
Micah blinked as one of the men passed him without so much as a glance. "Guess that means I'm in?" he muttered under his breath.
The brown-haired boy beside him didn't reply. His posture was rigid, hands clasped behind his back. Only the faint tremor in his fingers betrayed how tense he really was until the man finally uttered In and passed by.
The brown-haired boy exhaled in relief.
