by Mia Belle
I play around with some pasta pieces. “Not sure. Why? I thought you were okay with me staying here.”
“No, no,” she quickly says. “I love having you. It’s just that I’d hate for you to fall back, you know? I think it’s important for you to keep up with your vocals and your dancing.”
I continue playing with my pasta. I’m not really in the mood to discuss this right now. Or think about it.
“Kara, I wish you wouldn’t let some loser ruin something that means the world to you.”
I stand and gather my plate. “Me, too. But it happened and I have to deal with it.” I stride into the kitchen and dump my plate in the sink.
Grandma is right behind me. She lowers her plate in the sink before placing her hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “You mean the world to me, Kara. You and your sister.”
“I know. You mean the world to us, too.”
“Take it from someone who’s been doing this for a long, long time. A big break isn’t good for you. You’ll fall behind and it’ll be so much harder for you to get back on track. Not to mention you’ll lose name recognition.”
“That doesn’t really matter to me right now.”
She gently squeezes my shoulders. “I know. But it may mean something to you in the future. Can you just promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“While living here, you’ll keep up with your vocal lessons and dance.”
“Darla—”
“Meet with my vocal coach once a week and join the dance studio on Milton Road.”
I turn away from her and run my hand through my dark hair. Then I load the dishwasher.
“At least think about it?” she asks.
“Okay.”
“Thanks. I heard the woman who owns the studio is terrific. And it goes without saying that I’ll pay for the lessons.”
“Darla,” I start to protest.
She leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I just don’t want you to make a mistake.” She gives me an encouraging smile. “I’m going to get ready for my show. You sure you don’t want to come?”
“Maybe another time. I have a video chat date with Abbey.”
“Say hello for me, won’t you?” She winks and walks off.
Once the dishwasher is loaded, I go upstairs to start my homework. The teachers were kind to give me a few days to catch up with the work, but I basically learned the exact material at my old school. I finish it all within half an hour, right as Grandma’s driver arrives to take her to her performance. She and a few other singers are headlining in Philadelphia.
With no friends here, I have nothing to do. Will I even make friends? The kids weren’t hostile, but they weren’t very friendly, either. They seem like a pretty tight group since they most likely have been with each other since preschool. Some were intrigued at first, some curious about my Broadway career, but most didn’t find me too interesting because they’ve seen me around at some point during my visits in the summer.
My thoughts wander to the three boys I saw at the music shop yesterday. They’ve been somewhat friendly to me. Well, two of them were. Actually, one of them is borderline stalkerish—I mean, he’s seriously been to twelve of my performances?—so he’s not exactly counted. That leaves one, Carter. He seems like a good guy, though there’s something different about him. I’ve been in the business long enough to sniff talent. I’m not sure what his is, exactly, but I have an inkling it has to do with music. Something I’m trying to escape from.
I text my best friend Abbey to remind her about our video chat date.
She replies ten minutes later.
Abbey: Shoot, I forgot! My costar invited me to a party tonight.
This news disappoints me a little, but I’m not too surprised. It’s happened many times before. She’s starring in a sci-fi series on TV called Star Journey, which is getting very popular. It’s about a group of adults and teenagers traveling to a distant planet, when they’re attacked by an alien species that kills all the adults on board. The teens find themselves stranded on the starship hundreds of light years away from home, with no one to help them. So they take command of the ship and are trying to find their way back to Earth.
Abbey plays the daughter of the late captain, who is anointed captain by the other crewmen. Since I’m a huge fan of the show, Abbey worked her magic and snagged me a guest role on an episode earlier this year. It’s due to air in a few weeks.
Abbey and I became best friends when we debuted on our first Broadway show in Annie. I played Molly and she was Kate. Shortly after that, she went on to Hollywood while I chose the stage. She’s more suited for the screen and is crazy talented. I bet she’ll win an Emmy before she turns twenty.
Me: It’s okay. Have fun at the party!
Abbey. Ugh, I feel bad. We hardly talk anymore.
Me: No big. Hit me up when you have free time.
I sit back in my chair and drum my fingers on my desk. My room is so quiet. The house is so quiet. Outside is so quiet. I mean, I knew this was a small, quiet town, but sheesh.
I check some of my friends’ social media to pass the time. Maybe I should make a better effort at making friends. There’s no way I can take more nights of nearly losing my mind.
Sweeping my phone off the desk, I lie down in bed and video chat my mom.
Her face appears on the screen with a large smile. “Kara! Hey, sweetie.”
My chest tightens when I take in her face. It’s only been a day, but I miss her so much. Her, and Dad and Kitty.
“How was opening night?” I ask.
Her face shines so bright I’m nearly blinded. “Amazing! I almost forgot how good it feels to be on stage again. And it didn’t occur to me how many fans I have. My hand still hurts from signing all those playbills.”
My lips droop a little. That’s one thing I loved about live theater—meeting the fans. Seeing how high they were after such an exhilarating experience.
“Who are you talking to?” Kitty’s voice says.
“Your sister.”
“Kara?” The phone is snatched away and then my little sister’s face pops up on the screen. “Hi, Kara! I don’t miss you.”
“I don’t miss you, either. Where’s Dad?”
“He had to work late tonight.”
“Kara, you’re calling to tell Mom you’re super homesick and want her to come get you, right?” She presses her face so close to the screen that all I see is half her eye.
A lump forms in my throat. “I do miss you guys. A lot.”
“So come back!” The phone slips out of Kitty’s hand and clatters to what sounds like a desk. There’s a lot of obstruction, as though the desk is covered with documents.
“Oops!” Kitty snatches up the phone.
“What are you guys doing?” I ask as Kitty moves the phone closer to her face and then back, close and back. She always does that. So annoying.
“I’m helping Kitty organize a charity event. Kitty, you’re going to make your sister dizzy.”
“Another charity event?” I say. “Kitty, that’s amazing. You’ve got the biggest heart I’ve ever seen.”
She beams. “They don’t call me Broadway’s Sweetheart for nothing. Hey, did Mom show you this?” She stretches her hand toward something off screen and then dangles it before me.
I squint at it. “Is that a doll?”
It looks about three feet tall, with messy brown hair, pale skin, and a dirty brown dress.
“It’s Mrs. Lovett!” Kitty gushes. “Isn’t it the cutest thing? One of Mom’s fans made it for her and left it at the stage door.”
“Unfortunately there’s no name, address or phone number,” Mom says. “A shame. I would have wanted to thank that person.”
Mom’s last performance before My Fair Lady was in Sweeny Todd. But she had only played the role for two months because she got pregnant with Kitty.
“I’m totally keeping this.” Kitty smiles down at it. “Right I’m keeping it, Mom?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. It looks delicate. We’ll put it in the Fan Room.”
The Fan Room was something I created when I was twelve. I had gotten quite a few gifts from fans over the years and it was taking up too much space in my room. I asked Mom to set up a room where I could put them in a safe place so they wouldn’t get damaged. Each and every one of them means something to me.
My thoughts drift to the many gifts I got over the past year. Innocent ones at first. Fun. Cool. Sweet. Until they no longer were.
I shake my head. No, just because I’ve had a bad experience, it doesn’t mean the same thing will happen to Mom or Kitty. But because of what happened to me, Mom and Dad are a little more alert to what kind of things fans send to Kitty. Though I don’t know if that really helps. It’s not like anyone caught wind of things with me before it was too late.
Mom takes the phone from Kitty. “How are you holding up, honey? How’s your new school? Did you make any friends?”
“Did you meet any boys?” Kitty’s voice says.
Mom gives her a look. “That’s not important.”
“Um, she’s sixteen.”
“So?”
“So she’s got hormones and stuff.”
She sighs. “Oh, Kitty.”
“Just don’t get pregnant.” Kitty takes the phone again. “That’ll totally ruin your life. I mean, I guess it didn’t ruin Grandma’s, and it’s so cool that we have a young, cool grandma. All my friends grandmas are old and wrinkly.”
Mom takes the phone back, giving her another face. “Why are you even part of this conversation? You’re eleven years old.”
“I’m just being realistic. If Kara’s not going to devote her time to performing, then she could find herself—”
“Don’t you have something important to do? Didn’t your teacher email you your homework?”
“Ugh.”
“You know the rules. Homework gets done on time or you’re out of the show.”
With another groan, she stomps away.
“Sometimes that kid needs a filter,” Mom says.
“It’s fine. I like her honesty.”
Mom’s eyes soften as they rove over my face. “How are you really doing, Kara? Please don’t try to act brave. This isn’t easy on any of us. I don’t want an added burden on you.”
I puff out my cheeks. “It’s a little hard. All the kids have known each other since preschool and it’s a little hard to make friends. But it was only the first day.”
She nods. “I’m sure things will get easier. Are you keeping busy? Where’s Grandma?”
“She has a show tonight. I’m not really keeping busy. I don’t really have anything to do.”
Her eyebrows crease with concern.
“But I’ll be fine,” I quickly say. “I’ll find something to do.”
“Okay.” She presses her lips to the screen. “Love you and miss you.”
I touch my fingers to my lips and then press it to the screen. “Love you and miss you, too. Say the same to Dad.”
I hang up and log into Netflix.
Chapter Six
Carter
“But I wanna wear my pajamas!” My little sister leaps onto her bed, the little duckies jumping up and down with her.
I shut my eyes for a moment. Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Mackenzie, you can’t wear your pajamas to school. Please get dressed. Your bus will be here soon.”
No surprise that she doesn’t listen. I’ve got to chase her around her room and then threaten her with the Tickle Monster before she agrees to change her top but not her pajama bottoms. That’s a win in my world. I wonder how parents deal with this chaos.
She’s only five. I’ve got to remind myself of that little detail.
When she’s finally dressed and has run off to the kitchen, I head over to my eight-year-old brother, Kevin, who’s still in bed. I try not to groan. I know things haven’t been easy for him the past few weeks. The kids won’t stop bullying him at school.
“Hey, man.” I yank his blanket off his skinny-as-a-pole body. “Time for school.”
“I’m not going and you can’t make me.”
“Want me to go with you and threaten to kick their asses?”
“They’re not scared of you.” He slams the pillow over his head. “You’re not big like Jerry’s brother.”
Can’t argue with that.
“I’ll speak to the principal.”
“Are you crazy? That’ll make things worse!”
Lowering myself near him, I gently pry the pillow off his head. “If you don’t show up, they’ll call Mom again.”
“Don’t care,” his muffled voice says.
“You should,” I say. “You know it’s not easy for her. She works so hard and is in pain every day. Do you want to add a new problem to the pile?”
I know he wants to argue. From the way his hands fist at his sides, I know he wants to pummel them into me until I promise he doesn’t have to go to school anymore. And every part of me wants to. Because I can’t stand seeing him go through this every day. But it’s not the right call. The right call is to drag his little butt out of bed and go to school. Because school is everything.
But the good thing about Kevin? He’s got heart. A lot of it. He can’t stand seeing or hearing Mom in pain. So with tears glistening in his eyes, he wrenches himself out of bed and into the bathroom.
Good thing Hannah is up and munching on breakfast in the kitchen. Mackenzie’s nose twists as she stares down at the burned eggs on her plate.
Peyton spins around from where she’s bent over the stove, sweat caking her brow, a spatula with burned eggs in her hand. Tears flash in her eyes the same way they did in Kevin’s. The two of them look so alike, with large expressive light brown eyes and tiny noses.
“I burned them.” Her lower lip quivers. “And we don’t have enough for more.”
I pat her arm. “It’s okay. They’re still edible.”
“I can’t do this.” She scrapes some brown eggs off the skillet and plunks them into a plate. “I’m not cut out for this.”
“Let me take over.”
Not that there’s much for me to do. The egg carton is empty.
At least she managed to make food for the kids. I’ll somehow make it through the day with barely enough money for lunch, but I’m worried about Peyton. A thirteen year old shouldn’t have to burden all this.
“Good thing you guys eat a proper lunch at school,” I say.
“What about you?” she asks.
I shrug. “I manage.”
Though it’s getting harder to hide my financial situation from Ezra and Jax. It’s not like I’m embarrassed. Okay, I am. How can I not be? Ezra’s family is loaded and Jax has the most loving parents in the world. The fact that I’m ashamed in front of my best friends makes me feel even more pathetic.
“Do I really have to eat this?” Mackenzie complains as Kevin saunters into the room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He’s wearing his favorite Donald Duck socks. I try not to cringe. That right there is an invitation to the bullies. But I can’t tell him to change. Kevin likes wants he likes and doesn’t change for anyone or anything. Too bad his classmates don’t share his views.
“I just slaved away cooking it, so yes, you have to eat it,” Peyton says in a frustrated tone.
“But it’s so gross.” She picks it up with her hand and lets it plunk on her plate. “It doesn’t even look like food.”
“Is there any for me?” Kevin asks.
“Sure.” Peyton swallows hard before sweeping the plate with what looks like brown and yellow slugs off the counter and slides it before him.
He, too, stares at it in disgust. “Um. Pass.”
“Eat it,” Peyton orders.
He glares at her before stabbing his fork into it.
“I miss when Mommy made us breakfast every day.” Mackenzie lifts her food off her plate and lets it plunk again.
“Mom’s not here,” Peyton snaps.
“So you’re stuck with me.”
“I wish she’d get a new job,” Hannah says as she finishes her eggs and downs a glass of orange juice.
“It’s not so easy,” I say. “Being an adult and having to take care of five kids isn’t easy.”
“When’s Daddy gonna come back?” Mackenzie asks.
“Never,” Kevin says.
“Hey,” I warn.
She stares at him with big eyes. “What do you mean?” Her gaze moves to mine. “Carter, Dad’s not coming back?”
I internally sigh. How do you tell your little sister that our dad walked out the day she was born?
“One day,” Peyton says with a fake smile. “One day he’ll come and bring you a million presents.”
Her eyes shine. “Really? A million?”
“Maybe a billion.”
“Yay!”
There’s a honk outside.
“Your bus is here.” I help Mackenzie into her backpack and lead her and the others to the bus. Since the town’s pretty small, the elementary school and middle school is in the same building.
Mackenzie sits in her usual seat in the front and waves as the bus pulls away. I turn to Peyton. “You sure you don’t want to take the bus?”
“And be stuck there with all those little kids? Hell no. Carly’s dad is giving me a ride.”
I frown. “Carly, as in the sister of the boy who terrorizes your brother?”
She rolls her eyes and dumps the dishes into the sink.
“Pey, you have to talk to her. The bullying’s got to stop.”
She slams the dish into the sink. “You want me to tell the most popular girl in the eighth grade to tell her kid brother to stop picking on my kid brother?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to end up like Kevin? Because I’ll become a social pariah if I say something like that to her.”
I sigh as I plop down on a chair at the table and rake a hand through my hair.
“We’re not equipped for this, Carter.” She sits down next to me. “We can’t be parents.”
“What can we do? Mom hurt her back and can’t clean as many houses as she used to. It’s bad enough she wakes at the crack of dawn and turns in after midnight.”
Now she runs her hand through her dark blonde hair. We both sit in silence.