"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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I know you hardly ever see your mother, and your dad walked out years ago.
Jack's words pushed me deeper and deeper into a sea of rage. How dare he tell me about how miserable his life was when he couldn't keep his stupid mouth shut.
The festering ball of fury coiled in the back of my throat as my fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard my brown knuckles turned white. What was it about Jack Garrison that wrecked me so completely like this?
Keep running, Shayna. One day, you'll have to forgive me for whatever I did.
He didn't even know. It was all so far under the bridge that he didn't even know what he had done. I remembered. It haunted me each and every day.
Now, he just expected me to feel sorry for him. He had the guts to talk about his father, making his life hard when I hadn't spoken to my father in years.
I took a deep breath and reached for my phone. Parker would be at practice right now, so I couldn't call him until later, but I could go home. At least there, I wouldn't be judged for Juan cheating on me or have Jack attempting to apologize for something he didn't remember.
There'd be questions later about why I walked out of rehearsal. Anton would probably blame Jack. He usually assumed it was his nephew's fault.
But I couldn't go back in there now. I'd probably slap Jack if I saw him again today. Samantha and Juan were all lovey-dovey, and I wasn't ready to play a woman trying to teach the man in love with her how to court her. Not today and not now.
Keep running, Shayna.
I decided to drive home. Mom's apartment wasn't too far from the theater. Slowly, I pulled out of the parking lot and made the short drive to the big gate, where I punched in the code to let me into the complex.
Five minutes later, I was in front of our blue door on the third floor. I unlocked it and was greeted by the smell of lasagna. Aunt Layla was in the kitchen since it was too early for Mom to be home. It smelled like she was meal-prepping for the week.
The apartment wasn't small by any means. It had three bedrooms and was roomy until last year when Aunt Layla and my cousins Trevor and Brady moved in. With six people, it got a little tight.
Trevor was nineteen and lived half the time on campus, while Brady was only twelve. After Parker went to college about six months after they moved in, Brady got his room, and when Trevor was here, he slept on a roll-away bed.
I didn't mind the clutter or extra people. Aunt Layla's husband kicked her and her kids out right before their divorce. Mom said the family was always welcome, and her sister and nephews were no exception.
She kept saying that she and Aunt Layla would go house hunting, but Aunt Layla always said she'd find a place for her and her boys. Neither seemed inclined to do anything about the current predicament, however. Mom worked long shifts as a surgeon at the hospital, and Aunt Layla had a job teaching art at the local elementary school.
