Harley in the Sky - Akemi Dawn Bowman Page 0,101

Like when people do photo shoots of baby animals with stuffed animals next to them. You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t because it’s just too adorable.

Popo looks up from the dining table, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She’s reading a new book—some crime thriller or another, which she can never seem to get enough of.

“Good morning!” Popo says with delight, even though it’s almost dinnertime. She knows I’ve spent the day sleeping.

Mom and Dad look at me, the relaxed smiles disappearing from their faces. Something tight and restrained appears instead.

“Are you hungry? We’re making lemon chicken and potato gratin. Should be ready in an hour,” Mom says.

Dad pops another piece of cheese into his mouth and goes back to slicing potatoes.

I wander toward the table and sit down across from Popo. She watches me carefully for a minute, like she’s asking if I’m okay. I nod, because sometimes other people need reassurance, even when I’m the one who feels broken. She smiles and cracks her book open again.

“I drove past the university earlier today. They must’ve had some kind of sports game going on because there was a ton of traffic near the stadium.” Mom’s still chopping, trying to sound casual. Trying to fix. “I bet that’ll be so much fun—going to games with your friends. Kenji, don’t you think that sounds fun?”

Dad’s still eating cheese. “Mm-hmm.” He gives her a thumbs-up.

A pressure returns against my chest, pushing down hard. I feel my heart rate pick up. It’s even hard to breathe.

“I know it might be too late to get a dorm room, but is that something you’d like? Not that we don’t love having you at home, but having a roommate is probably a totally different college experience,” Mom continues like everything is normal.

My ribs tighten. My throat tightens.

I feel like someone is wringing my entire body out like I’m made of cloth, squeezing me until there isn’t a drop of life left.

Mom’s talking to me, but she’s looking around the room like this conversation is for everyone. “Or what about a sorority? I mean, I think they seem like kind of a distraction, but I know there are all different kinds. I’m told it’s not just about going to parties. There are academic ones, sports ones, even music or—”

“I’m not going to school.”

The room falls silent.

Was that my voice? It felt like thunder.

It felt like power.

I keep talking. “Not full-time, anyway. And not to the school you want me to go to.”

I’m shaking everywhere, my hands clenched tightly. Mom’s eyes are startled and wide. Dad’s stopped eating cheese. Popo’s face is serene, and maybe even… proud?

“I’m sorry,” I say, and then the words rush out of me like a wave. “I know how you feel about university. And I know I’m the one who left the circus when I left Maison du Mystère, but the truth is, the circus hasn’t left me. Even right now, when I’m hurting and I feel like it’s impossible to be happy, I know going to school full-time would be a mistake. Because I love being an aerialist. I love being on the trapeze. It makes me feel whole. And I know if I gave it up—if I traded in my dreams for a backup—I would regret it for the rest of my life.” I take a breath. “But, I know school means something to you. And I know your rules about me having to go to school to stay at home. So I’d like to propose a compromise. Community college on a part-time basis, while I continue training on the trapeze.”

Mom turns to Dad, expecting him to jump in.

I’m shocked when he doesn’t.

He lifts his shoulders. “Would it be the worst thing in the world if we let her train with Tatya? Our daughter is talented. We both saw it.”

Mom flattens her mouth, shaking her head. “I know she’s talented. I know she’s incredible.” She turns to me. “But what happens if you have another episode like this? What if you quit again and decide you’ve had enough?”

“If being an aerialist doesn’t work out, I can always take more classes. At least this way I won’t miss out on training. I’ll have a chance to do what I love,” I say. “But I know myself, and I’m not going to quit. I mean, I might’ve still been at Maison du Mystère if you and Dad hadn’t shown up. I think I just ran for the

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