between wanting to try harder or just giving up. The one bright spot was that her dad had somehow forgotten (ignored) the fact that she spent a lot of her spare time at the theater, because if he’d actually remembered, she was pretty sure he’d make her quit. Which might break her entirely. It was the only thing she looked forward to, the only time in her day when she felt like she was actually good at something. After working as the assistant prop mistress last spring she’d been promoted to spotlight operator for the fall play. It was the perfect job: she didn’t have to talk to anyone, plus Persey got to hide in the shadows and watch every moment of every performance.
She even took pride in her role. The director, Mr. Beck, had told her that her new job was an essential part of the show because she would be directing the audience to the most important bits of action and dialogue onstage.
And she was good at it.
They were only two months into rehearsals for the fall play, but Persey already knew every word of Sheridan’s The School for Scandal, which she’d mouth along with the actors during rehearsals while she helped build and paint the sets.
She’d made a real attempt to compensate for the hours spent in the theater by doubling up her studying time, which, in theory, should have helped her grades. But, apparently, not so much. This progress report would merely reinforce her dad’s assessment that she was lazy and slow and stupid. All the names he’d been calling her since it became clear she’d never “live up” to her brother.
Now she was going to have to endure all the beratement again.
With a day off from rehearsal, Persey decided to walk home from school, rather than call for a ride. A short reprieve, but one she needed in order to come to terms with the shitshow that would be family dinner. The searingly hot sun baked the sidewalk, the heat radiating up through the soles of her shoes so it almost felt as if she was walking barefoot on the concrete. She yearned for some air-conditioning and comfy leather seats, and more than once she pulled out her phone, ready to call for a pickup. It wasn’t as if her parents would even be home when she arrived. They were at the office for longer and longer stretches each day, preparing for the new product unveiling. So if she’d be alone at the house for hours anyway, why subject herself to the sweltering heat?
It’s my punishment. Her odyssey home was self-inflicted hell. By the time she reached the gate outside her housing community, she was slick with sweat and red-faced with exhaustion.
Tyson, one of the security guards, poked his head through the window of the air-conditioned station, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, feeling her head spin a little as she did. “Yeah.”
“No.” He opened the door and beckoned her inside. “Get in here and have some water.”
Too exhausted to refuse, Persey stumbled into the guards’ shack. It was a tiny square, hardly bigger than a closet, with windows on all four sides, two of which slid open to accommodate conversations with cars that were both coming and going from the gated development. A desk and computer were built into the front of the shack, a row of high-tech monitors embedded in the console cycling through camera angles that Persey didn’t even know existed, and a walkie-talkie stood charging in its base beside the screen where the guards logged all visitors. Two chairs were tucked beneath the desk, one of which Tyson wheeled out for her. As she fell into it, he reached into a mini fridge, retrieving a small bottle of ice-cold water.
“Drink this,” Tyson commanded. The bottle felt soothing in her hand, and before she cracked it open, she held the refreshing coolness up to her neck. The cold air plus the chilled plastic against her skin did its job, and within seconds, Persey was feeling more herself.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a gulp. “I needed that.”
“You looked like you were about to pass out in the middle of the road.” Tyson pursed his lips. “Why were you walking home? You know you’re not supposed to be unaccompanied.”
Persey smiled. She liked Tyson, and somehow, it was easier to talk to him than to any single member of her family. “I needed the exercise.”