by Jazz Taylor
I slam down my last card in UNO. “I win!!”
Harper groans, and Andrew swears, tossing his card to the table. “That’s the last time I let you nerds win,” Andrew says, standing and stretching. I grin up at him as he stalks out of the room. He’s always been a sore loser.
It’s Sunday night, and Harper stayed with me an extra night after the sleepover ended. Dad didn’t seem to mind, which is great because I love having Harper around. She teams up with me against Andrew, and she loves watching movies and it’s been so much fun. We sang together again (Harper wasn’t knowledgeable about Beyoncé’s greatest songs, but I fixed that) and looked for some toys for Phantom. I wish she could just live with us. I’ve always wanted a sister.
Harper cleans up the cards, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you’re so good at this. How can someone win all three rounds?”
“It helps when you have Andrew to practice against. He’s terrible at games and he hates losing, so it’s fun.”
Harper laughs. “I bet Nic could beat us both into the ground. She has three brothers to practice with.”
“Oh yeah, definitely.”
Harper looks up at me, and I pause. She’s grinning, but it’s a sly, mischievous one. Uh oh.
“So, speaking of Nic …” Harper casually puts the cards back in the UNO box. “I was wondering if you liked her.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. This can’t be happening! First Andrew, now Harper?! Am I that obvious?!
“I won’t tell her,” Harper assures me. “I’ve just been meaning to ask you.”
“How … ?” I can barely talk. I’m burning up. I need some water. “How’d you know?”
“Oh, I don’t know, the way you look at her, the way you get excited when she talks to you, the way you’re killing yourself to do this play just because she asked you to …” Harper grins at me. “Just a few things.”
I slump against the couch. So I really am that obvious. Twelve years of hiding my secret has done me no good.
“Okay, fine. Yes. I do like her.” It feels kinda good to say it out loud. “But you can’t tell her, Harper. Please. You have to promise.”
“I promise. But you know, I think she wouldn’t care. She might even like you too!”
I snort. Yeah, right. What’s there to like? I’m an anxious, sweaty mess. And she probably doesn’t even like girls. “I can’t risk telling her. What if she hates me?”
“I don’t think that’d happen. But I get it.” Harper pats my arm sympathetically. “I won’t say anything, but you should tell her eventually. You might be surprised.”
Harper’s looking right into my eyes. What does she mean I “might be surprised”? Surprised that Nic won’t mind? Or …
Dad interrupts my thoughts by coming out of the kitchen. “Girls, it’s getting late. Let me take you home, Harper.”
Harper deflates like a balloon. Her shoulders slump, and her head hangs low. “Okay, Mr. Williams.”
“Can she stay another night? Please?” I try to use my best begging expression, but Dad shakes his head.
“It’s a school night. But you’re welcome to come back next weekend.”
Harper goes upstairs to get her stuff from my room, but I stay with Dad. “Come on, Dad,” I say, my voice low. “She looks so sad.”
“She can’t stay forever. And you’ll see her at school.”
That’s not it at all, but I don’t get a chance to explain. Harper comes downstairs with her bag, and Dad ushers us out of the house. When we’re both buckled into the back seat, Dad turns around to face us. “Where to, Harper?”
“I live close to Dairy Queen,” she says. “Oh, wait, do you know where that is? I forgot you just moved here.”
No, we know where it is, and it’s really far away! At least a twenty-minute walk. And she walks to school every day?
Dad doesn’t notice my alarm. He says, “I know where that is! Taxi service is headed out.” He pulls out of the driveway, and we’re on the way.
Harper doesn’t say anything the whole ride, and I feel bad breaking her concentration. She looks like she’s deep in thought. When we get close to Dairy Queen, she gives Dad directions, and soon we’re outside an apartment complex. It looks a lot like our old one, with creaky black railings and peeling paint on the sides. But hers also has a fenced-in pool! It’s tiny, but that’s pretty cool. I wonder if she’d let me and Nic swim with her in the summer.
“Well, this is it.” Harper gathers her stuff. She looks at me. “See you tomorrow.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Harper gets out of the car and closes the door behind her. I poke my head out the window and wave. “You can come over again next weekend!”
Harper smiles and waves back, but doesn’t say anything. Dad and I watch her climb three flights of steps and unlock the fourth door from the right. Dad waits until she’s inside before he cranks up the car again.
“So …” Dad trails off as we leave Harper’s neighborhood. “About Harper.”
“Yeah?”
I can’t see Dad’s face, but I imagine him frowning at the road. “She didn’t seem very happy to go home.”
“No, she’s not.” I sigh, thinking of her crying on my shoulder Friday night.
“Do you know what’s going on?”
“Kinda. But you can’t tell anyone.” Dad nods, and I continue. “She doesn’t like her mom that much.”
“What do you mean? Like she’s hard on her?”
“Yeah, kinda.” I think about what Harper said Friday night. “She says she feels kinda lonely, but I don’t think that’s it. She never brings lunch to school. And she seems really sad all the time.”
“Hmm.” Dad taps his finger on the steering wheel but doesn’t say anything.
“Hmm what?”
“Nothing. Just thinking.” Dad glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry about it, Avery. She’ll be okay.”
I cross my arms. Easy for him to say. I can’t help but worry about her; she’s my friend. Maybe Dad will let her stay over more often. I’ll have to ask him later. I look out the window, trying to think about a plan of attack to convince Dad to temporarily adopt Harper, but Harper’s sad face remains front of mind.
“I can’t believe they’re making us choose.” Thomas is practically glaring at me.
“It’s not fair.” I take a shaky breath. I’m already trembling and sweaty. Today we have to sing, and the cue for the second song is coming up. “What can we do? We have to listen to our parents.”
“We can run away.” Thomas looks at me, his eyebrows raised. I’m supposed to sing the first note of the second song now. I open my mouth to sing.
Nothing comes out.
Thomas throws his hands up in the air. “I can’t do this,” he says. “Why are we even trying? She’ll never be able to sing onstage.”
“You better watch it, Thomas,” Nic says, coming to stand beside me. She puts her hands on her hips and stands taller. “Avery’s doing fine. Just needs a little more practice.”
“Says who? The play’s in less than two weeks!”
My stomach sinks when the other actors exchange glances and start nodding. Thomas is right. I can’t do this. I’m dragging everyone down. I—
“We just need more practice.” Nic looks irritated, but I hope it’s not at me. I hope it’s not because she agrees with him.
“Practice isn’t gonna make a mute sing.”
“Oh, really? Well, practice won’t fix your tone-deaf singing either!”
“Okay, enough.” Mrs. Thompson climbs onstage before Nic and Thomas can get into a fistfight. Thomas’s face is red up to his hairline. “Mr. Gage, take a few minutes to cool off. Miss Pearson, you too.” Mrs. Thompson locks eyes with me. “Miss Williams, come to my office.”
Humiliation threatens to drown me as I follow Mrs. Thompson to her office. This is it. She’s gonna fire me from my first acting role. This is terrible. Worst-case scenario.
“Take a seat, Miss W
illiams.” Mrs. Thompson sits at her desk, and I sit on one of the stools she has scattered in her office. She folds her hands and watches me. She doesn’t seem mad or even disappointed. “Sing the second song for me.”
I stare at her, in shock. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Without music?” Mrs. Thompson nods. Oh God, okay. I clear my throat, close my eyes, and sing. I know all the words now. Even the middle lyrics don’t trip me up. I think I even keep on tempo without the accompaniment. When I stop, I open my eyes. Mrs. Thompson is smiling, so maybe I did a good job.
“You’ve been practicing.”
I nod, not trusting my voice. At least she doesn’t think I’ve just been slacking off. I’ve been trying really hard. I just can’t do it.
“Why did you try out for this play, Miss Williams?”
I look to the floor. Because Nic wanted me to. Because I thought it would make Dad happy. Because I like to sing. Just not like this. “I—I wanted to.”
Mrs. Thompson nods to herself. “Well, Miss Williams, I think you can do this, if it’s what you want. But you have to want it. Not because your friend wants it for you. Do you understand?”
I nod, afraid to speak. I might start crying.
“I have faith in you, Miss Williams. We all get stage fright. It’s just about how you personally deal with it. Just think about it.”
The bell rings, ending the school day. Mrs. Thompson smiles at me, but I can’t find the energy to smile back. I’m still Juliet, and I still can’t sing onstage. I can’t give up now, especially since Dad will wonder why I quit and cart me off to therapy. Nic defended me, and Harper’s been helping me practice too. Everyone is depending on me to nail this. But I don’t know if I can do it, and that fact makes me want to throw up.
I head to the theater to bring Phantom her sandwich, feeling low.
It’s been a few days since Thomas blew up at me. I’ve been practicing really hard. I made Andrew sit in my room, and I sang all four songs to him. I even had my eyes open! But I still can’t do it. No matter how hard I try, I can’t sing in class. It’s seven days until Valentine’s Day. Seven days between me and disaster.
Phantom meows loudly when I open her closet door, pawing at my shoelaces. I pick her up, and she starts purring.
“Phantom, just sing for me. I bet people would love it.”
Phantom responds by pawing at my backpack. I guess we can talk after lunch is served.
I put her down and pull out the turkey sandwich. She gobbles down the meat greedily. I put away the leftover bread. I don’t think I can eat it. I haven’t felt like eating this whole week.
“Okay, now back to business, Phantom. What am I gonna do? I have a week to figure everything out. That’s not a lot of time, and I—”
“Avery?”
Harper’s voice calls me from the front of the stage. She’s earlier than usual. I hastily put Phantom’s toy back, and she climbs onto her cat bed.
“Don’t worry,” I say, scratching behind her ears. “I’ll be back after school, promise.”
I go to the front of the stage, where Harper’s waiting on me. Nic has been joining us for lunch lately, but she’s not here yet.
“Hey, sorry, I was just—”
“What did you do?”
I freeze. Harper’s face is red—she’s been crying. But worse than that, she looks mad. Really mad.
“What? I didn’t—”
“Who did you tell?” Harper’s voice is cracking, but I can’t tell if it’s from fury or if she’s about to cry.
“Tell what?” Panic reaches its claws into my throat. She’s mad at me, but I don’t know why. “I don’t understand—”
“I know you told someone about me and my mom!” Harper’s yelling now, her face bright red.
Nic enters the theater, but I barely notice her coming in. “I didn’t tell anyone, I swear.”
“Then why did Mom yell at me?” Harper’s still yelling, but she’s crying too. “Someone called, and then after that she started screaming at me. She said since I’m so unhappy, I can get out. Where am I supposed to go?!”
I don’t know what to say. I didn’t tell anyone. And I mean, she has been staying at our house a lot, but I don’t think that matters. Who would even know—
Dad. He asked me about Harper. Oh God.
“Harper …” I try to find the words to apologize, but Harper turns around and storms out of the theater.
Nic looks between Harper and me, her expression anxious. Before she can say anything, I run to the back of the stage. I open Phantom’s closet—she blinks sleepily against the light. I pull the door closed before Nic can follow me, sink to the floor, and burst into tears.
Phantom crawls into my lap, and I hug her tight. This is my fault. I didn’t even think to lie when Dad asked me. Harper trusted me. Harper called me her best friend. And I ruined everything.
I hug Phantom and cry all through lunch, but for once, her purring doesn’t make me feel any better.
“You’re awful quiet tonight,” Dad says at dinner.
I push around the carrots on my plate and don’t answer. I don’t know what to say to him. How could he get Harper in trouble? Why did he do it? Harper can just stay with us until things calm down. I don’t get it.
Nic texted me and said she talked to Harper after our fight. Harper’s staying with her aunt, which is a big relief. Harper likes her aunt a lot. And luckily she doesn’t live far away. But when I texted her and apologized, she didn’t answer.
“Is everything okay?” Dad asks, his tone unsure.
I push away from the table. “I’m going to my room.”
“Avery, wait.” Dad sighs heavily. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, we do.” At least he’s gonna come clean about it. I cross my arms and wait.
Dad hesitates for a second. “Do you remember what I said about therapy?”
No. No, this can’t be happening.
“Mrs. Thompson told me you’ve been having panic attacks again. And you haven’t been eating much.” Dad breathes out heavily. “I just think this is the next step. I booked an appointment for you. After the play.”
There’s a high-pitched buzzing in my ears. I feel like I’m about to pass out. It’s like a panic attack is coming, but I don’t feel panicked. I’m mad.
“Uh oh,” Andrew mutters from across the table.
“This isn’t fair!” I’m on my feet now, shaking with rage. “You promised me! You promised you’d let me handle it!”
“Avery—”
“Why do you always get to do whatever you want? I had to move here and everyone hates me and Andrew’s a jerk—”
“Hey—”
“—and you went and told on Harper, and now she’s really mad at me and doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. And now you’re gonna make me go to stupid therapy and everyone will think I’m a bigger freak than they already do! This sucks.”
“Hey,” Dad says, his voice carrying a warning. “I know you’re upset, but don’t use that word. We’ll get through this—”
“I don’t care!” I’m screaming at him now. I worked so hard on this stupid play, all for him, all so he wouldn’t worry about me, and it doesn’t even matter. “The only thing you care about is your stupid job now. Well, I hate that job and I hate you!”
I run upstairs, my chest about to burst, and slam my door. Dad calls me and tries to talk to me through the door, but I put in my earphones and drown him out with music. I hug my legs, my face pressed against my knees, and cry until I don’t have anything left.
“I love you, Juliet,” Thomas says. He’s in his costume now, and so am I. Dress rehearsal. The play is four days away.
“I love you too.” I can hear my voice is flat, but I don’t care. I’m not in the mood for this.
Harper hasn’t been back to school. She’s not answering any of my texts. I haven’t talked to Dad either. He keeps trying, but I’m so mad at him. I’m so mad at everyone. I don’t
want to practice right now. Everything’s fallen apart, and this dumb play is at the center.
“You could at least pretend to care,” Thomas says, frustration in his tone.
“Mr. Gage,” Mrs. Thompson warns. “Let’s try again. One more time, Miss Williams.”
I don’t want to do this one more time. Nic gives me a sympathetic thumbs-up. We have a scene together after this, so if I can just get through Thomas’s scene, I’ll be okay.
I take a deep breath. Just a little more. “I love you too! But we can’t be together. Mom will never let us.”
“Meet me at the train station at eleven tonight. We’ll run away, and that’ll show them.”
“Love is more important than donuts.” Debatable. I’m gonna have to ask Harper about that line. Well, I would if she ever wanted to talk to me again.
Thomas’s face screws up with disgust. “You’re not even trying.”
Something in me snaps. I rear back and throw my script at Thomas. It hits him in the head. “You do it, then!” I scream as he howls in pain. “If you’re so perfect, play both parts! Good luck kissing yourself, you jerk!”
The theater is silent as I stomp down the steps and out of the building. I’m too mad to cry. I just have to get out of here.
I end up at the playground by my house. It’s empty except for a lady reading a book on a bench. I sit on the swing, my stomach swirling with anxiety and regret. I bet Thomas will hate me now. Well, more than he does already. Maybe I’ll even be suspended. My stomach clenches so hard I want to throw up. Dad will have to stay at home from work if I’m suspended. He’ll be so mad at me.
Wait, why do I care? I’m mad at him. I’m glad he’ll have to leave that dumb suit job to watch me. I try to muster the anger again, the rage that flared up at Thomas, but tears well up in my eyes instead.
“I thought you’d be here.”
I look up at Nic. She’s smiling at me, but her expression is worried too. For some reason, that irritates me. I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.
