“Hey—” I start, hoping to forge some kind of connection. Something beyond irritation, at least. I want to assure her I won’t get in the way, that I just want to learn what she knows, and maybe one day have a chance at being truly great at the static trapeze.
But Maggie snatches her water bottle off the mat and moves back to the place I came from, between Vivien and Dexi, like she’s making a statement, avoiding me completely.
My face flushes with embarrassment, but at least the people around me have the decency to pretend they didn’t see anything.
I fall into a lunge, hoping I can magically blend in and no one will see how it’s taking literally everything inside me to fight the hot tears from pouring down my face.
Vas is beside me the entire time, and I know he must hear me sniffling, but he doesn’t say a word.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I spend most of the evening in the trailer, declining when Vivien and Dexi invite me to dinner. I’m too nauseous to eat—too angry at myself for being silly enough to think this would be easy, and at Maggie for not even giving me a chance, and at my parents for making it so this was my only option to begin with.
I’m mad at nobody and everybody all at once.
I force my eyes closed, hoping that sleep will help dull the horrible sensations rumbling around in the pit of my stomach. But after hours and hours of tossing and turning on the thin foam mattress, briefly falling asleep only to be woken up again because my body won’t settle, my brain is basically mush and lead.
Parting the window curtains beside me, I see desert mountains stretched across the horizon, and a dusky lavender sky that suggests it’s probably too early to be waking up.
Still, I haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday’s lunch. And the hunger pangs in my stomach are definitely not helping to keep my mind at peace.
With my best attempt at being light-footed, I manage to get myself off the top bunk without waking Vivien, who sleeps wearing an eye mask decorated in a pair of sparkly cartoon eyes, which is honestly terrifying. Dexi doesn’t stir either, though being on the other side of the room probably helps.
Slipping on my shoes, I step outside and keep my hand firm on the screen door to keep it from rattling shut.
The air is dry, and I can smell charcoal and burnt wood nearby from an evening barbecue. It isn’t far to the Lunch Box, which has a scattering of tables and chairs in front of the awning. I spot a few of the Lucky Thirteen on the top deck, plus one of the clowns and a tiny girl with oversized clear glasses who I’m pretty sure is a performer’s daughter, though I’m not sure whose.
The night cook sets his beefy hands on the counter and leans his neck forward so he can see me through the wide-open window, reminding me of a cartoon vulture. “There’s no table service at night, so you have to order from the window,” he says, clearly recognizing that I’m new. “What can I get you?”
My eyes dart upward to the chalkboards hung above the window. The specials menu has already been wiped clean, which is a shame because Vivien told me the borscht was heavy, and I’m practically ready to gnaw off my own arm. But there are other chalkboards—the standard ones that never change—with plenty of options for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
I ask for the maple-syrup-and-banana oatmeal because it sounds like it’ll be equal parts filling and fast.
The cook busies himself in the back, and a short while later he sets a generous bowl of oatmeal on the counter before pointing me in the direction of the silverware and napkins. I grab what I need and climb the narrow spiral staircase, packing myself away into the closest empty booth.
I eat in complete silence, the warmth filling my stomach but never quite reaching the outside of my body. My skin feels cold everywhere, the chills forever running up and down my limbs. And I shouldn’t be cold—it’s August in Arizona, for crying out loud—but my mind is so preoccupied with other things that maybe it’s stopped caring what it says on the calendar.
I catch the girl with glasses watching me, but when I look at her, she turns away. The clown and crew members ignore me