dots I don’t fully understand. He thinks I’m disappointed that he won’t be there to help me. And I know maybe sometimes I’m selfish, but I’m not heartless.
But how do I correct him? How do I fix something I helped break?
I’m not Mom. I don’t know how to make things better.
I only know how to make them worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It’s only been two days since Vas told me we wouldn’t be practicing in the big top anymore, but it feels like it’s been weeks. I find myself distracted by shadows and anyone with a leather jacket, wondering when I’ll see him again, and if I’ll know the right thing to say to explain that I felt bad about what he lost that night, not what I lost.
I know he’s around because his bike is still parked alongside his trailer, but he’s either purposely avoiding me or too busy computerizing Dad’s set list to make an appearance.
I hate that I have to add his name to the list of people I’ve wronged. It was never my intention to hurt anyone—but then Tatya happened, and ever since then it’s felt like a ping-pong game of hurt, back and forth and back and forth, between me and the rest of the world.
Mom and Dad. Chloe. Maggie, in her own way. Vas.
I still feel hurt too, though the more days that pass, the less I’m sure I have as much right to be hurt as I did when I first saw the photo of Mom.
Things are… fuzzy. My feelings are fuzzy.
And since I can’t understand them, I’m choosing to ignore them.
Vivien and Dexi went for an early breakfast in town with some of the other performers. It’s normal for everyone to spend at least one day a week seeing a bit of the local area.
It’s also normal for nobody to invite me. I’m sure there are probably a few reasons, all ranging from “she stole a set list from another circus” to “we just don’t like her,” but the most obvious is that Maggie is a permanent fixture in their group. Even if Vivien and Dexi wanted to invite me, I have no doubt Maggie would veto the crap out of even the suggestion. And everyone else would probably let her.
Jin might be talking to me, but to the rest of the circus, I still have a long way to go before I’m accepted.
I head to the big top after breakfast. It’s the only window of opportunity I have to train on Sundays because there’s a matinee performance shortly after lunch, followed by load-out. And I don’t want to miss even a day of training, especially now that I’m back to doing floor exercises. I know I could ask Vivien or Dexi to help, but I can’t bring myself to cash in a favor—especially when neither of them technically offered. They just asked why I hadn’t asked, which is not the same thing.
I’m surprised to find the Terzi Brothers when I venture inside, standing across from each other and juggling so many colorful pins between them, it’s hard to count them all. Galip is older than Emin, but only by a year. Dexi mentioned it weeks ago when I asked if they were twins. Their faces are so similar, with thin, dark eyebrows and chiseled noses. But while Galip sports a mustache and short hair, Emin is clean-shaven with his hair in boyish curls.
Galip sees me first, and he makes a guttural noise to his brother. Within a few seconds, they catch pin after pin until every object is locked in their fingers like claws.
“Can I help you?” Emin asks with a thick accent, his bare arms glistening with sweat.
“I didn’t realize anyone was in here,” I say quickly, taking a step back toward the door.
Galip holds up a fistful of pins. “Want to join us?”
My feet lock into place. I blame the shock of actually being invited to something that doesn’t involve scraping gum off the stands. “I don’t know how to juggle,” I admit.
Emin flashes a wide smile, eyes creasing. “We can help with that.”
I make a move toward the center of the ring, my heart doing tiny little flips like a nervous tadpole.
“It’s good to pick up an extra skill or two in the circus. You never know when someone might need you to stand in, you know?” Galip nods toward his brother. “When we were younger, we used to help our parents take care of the elephants at one of the