The Perfect Escape (The Perfect Escape #1) - Suzanne Park Page 0,16

caring that I got the starring female role. It was his first and only time at one of my performances—Mom had gone to all of them before she got sick last year and had been so proud of me. That didn’t matter anymore.

It was hard thinking back to those days with Mom. I tried my best to forget them.

That night of the performance, I cried most of the way home. Dad kept flipping the channels between his stupid classic rock stations, filling the quietness between us.

He finally spoke again when we pulled into the driveway. He gave me a life lesson, or in his view, a pep talk.

“Kate, you’re almost an adult now. You really need to toughen up.” His shoulders straightened. “Crying always shows weakness. You’ll never go anywhere in life if you’re weak.”

I stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him. “I am tough. I got the lead role and beat out twenty other girls for the part.”

He barked a harsh laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Theater is the epitome of softness. When I see any job candidate who majored in theater, I toss the résumé straight into the trash.”

“Soft? I’ve been rejected over and over again for so many roles and just kept auditioning. I finally landed a big role this time.” I swiped both eyes with the palms of my hands. “I wish Mom were here.” My voice broke apart with those last words.

He opened his door and stepped out into the light rain. “Well, I’m sorry. She’s not.” With a door slam, he’d ended our conversation.

Was he right? Was I weak? Now, wedged into this closet, tears dripped down my cheeks and combined with my zombie stage makeup, forming a gray river delta down to my shirt. Maybe he was right.

I’d listened to him and had applications ready to fire off to a few colleges with strong business programs because that’s what Dad wanted. He was the one paying for the application fees. But all I really wanted was to be on my own, performing theater, far away from here. If I was going to leave home, leave Dad behind, I needed a plan. I needed plane tickets. I needed money. Untraceable cash money. Dad couldn’t track me down then. Dabbing my sleeve cuffs on my face, I made a mental list of all the things I needed to do before I could leave town.

The escape room door drifted open, widening just enough so I could see the fresh new crop of participants through the closet vents. Nate’s hands flailed with excitement as he chatted with a few of them. Noticing the unlatched door, he shot a shy smile in my direction just before closing it, making my heart beat double-time.

If I was stuck in Seattle for a while, at least I had Nate Kim—entrepreneur and toilet aficionado—to keep me company.

Chapter Six

Nate

Top three things running through my head:

One, did Kate blow me off with the whole “I don’t have a phone” thing? I asked for her number—quite suavely if you asked me—and she basically saw through the ruse and was like, Hell nah. Who gives a shit about having a local area code? No one, that’s who. Yeah, she blew me off.

Two, if she did text me, would it be weird to tell her that she shouldn’t send me any huge downloads because I had a very limited family data plan? It would be weird, right? Yeah, it’d be weird.

Third, did she think that I thought she was a lesbian? The last thing I said was something about her coming out of a closet, and she didn’t respond or joke around after that. Maybe she was a lesbian, and she thought that I was being weird about it.

Damn. She hated me.

Major Kate hate.

But Kate hate or not, I had a job to do. I couldn’t let this whole thing rattle me.

Deep breath. “Welcome to the Zombie Laboratory. I’m Nate, and I’ll be your host for the evening. Can I…uh…can I…” Oh God. I’d forgotten my lines.

My mind went completely blank. Well, except for those three previously mentioned Kate things occupying