"This is all your fault, director's pet. This is a play. I'm not falling in love with you, and I would never ever go out with you, Jack Garrison."
Jack and Shayna can't get through a rehearsal without fighting.
Cheerleader Shayna loathes perfect Ja...
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**** Content Warning for Abuse and Violence****
Parker and I went back to the apartment after rehearsal. We were silent most of the drive, and Aunt Layla had cake for us on our return.
"The show is going to be spectacular," Parker told her. "Although I still need help believing she and Orlando are lovers."
I shoved my brother playfully. "You're the worst."
"And you're quite the actress," Parker said. "But your acting towards him could be better... unless you're afraid you'll fall in love with Jack Garrison."
I met his accusation with a blank stare. "I consider myself better than that since everyone since has a crush on the golden boy."
He smiled. "Careful, Peanut. You're starting to sound like your ex-boyfriend. Never liked him much anyway."
"Parker," I said.
"I know," he laughed. "I know, I'm the worst. But you could stand to be a bit nicer to the poor guy."
Rolling my eyes, I stared at my brother's candid expression. "Wait, you're serious. Did he sucker you with some sad story about his big bad daddy?"
Parker shifted from foot to foot. "We both know not every father wins the Father of the Year award behind closed doors."
He wasn't talking about our father. Not this time. The night Aunt Layla moved in with us, Mom had to stitch up a head wound on Trevor and set a broken ankle for our aunt.
I'd held Brady as he cried himself to sleep, asking why his daddy destroyed his baking soda volcano. While our aunt's divorce wasn't exclusively because of the abuse she and the boys suffered that night, it was certainly a large factor in her decision to remove her children from their father.
"The Garrisons are like holiday card perfect," I said. "Except Mrs. Garrison has cancer."
Parker readjusted his man bun. "I'm just saying, maybe you should cut him some slack. Even if it is just the toll of his mother on death's door, that's not easy for anyone at any age."
"Please tell him to stop hitting on me," I said. "He listens to you. You're the cool Christian-Porter."
"Shayna," Parker shook his head. He's a good guy—way better than your ex. I'm not telling you to date him. I'm just asking you to set aside years of burning anger. Being mad at him won't undo our parents' divorce."
It was so funny how Parker knew me better than I knew myself. It wasn't about Jack. I was still mad at our dad for running off with an intern, but I could deflect all my anger on him much easier because Jack was closer than Dad.
"Peanut," he said. "Tell me you'll try to let this all go. You can be mad at Dad all you want, but stop taking it out on Jack. Remember our triple dare."
