"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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Every time I closed my eyes, I flashed back to the funeral. That had been two weeks ago, and the memory of burying my mother still haunted me.
We'd talked all about my group winning second at the Shakespeare festival once we'd gotten back. Mom was so proud of me. We'd watched the recording Jamie had made on her phone together, and she'd told me it was amazing.
I let her know about Shayna. Mom was relieved I'd been able to work things out with her. She told me that I could do anything I set my mind to, and she showed me the final revisions she'd made to her will.
It split most of the family's assets among my sisters and Uncle Anton. I'd known most of my life that my parents kept different bank accounts. What I'd never known was how much she'd inherited from her parents when they died when I was four in a car crash.
I would need to be frugal in college and get enough scholarships, but I'd be just fine until the trust fund she and Dad set up when I was born opened.
Mom left her half of the house to her brother. Since Dad's assets were frozen, Uncle Anton would probably have a ton of legal red tape to skate around before he could sell it.
There was money for the girls, too. Mom made Uncle Anton our legal guardian, which didn't matter as much to me since I turned eighteen next October.
"This is all, so you don't have to worry," Mom had told me. "I love you, Jack. Mr. Chance said this stuff with your dad will all blow over in court. He will spend a very long time in jail."
Mr. Chance had been taking care of all the legal issues. Mom had left an additional fund to pay him to finish everything up.
I'd told Mom I loved her, and she reminded me everything would be all right. The next morning, I received a call from the hospital saying she'd passed peacefully in the night.
I'd spent the last two weeks mourning, doing make-up homework, and comforting my sisters. I'd seen all my theater friends at the funeral, but I didn't have time to do much more than thank them for coming.
Jamie had flown down for Thanksgiving last week. Even her presence and Anton's faithful recreation of Mom's pecan pie hadn't cheered anyone up.
I'd talked to Carson a little over text, and Shayna had called every night to check on me. Our calls often consisted of her being a friend and listening to whatever issue I was trying to work out, be it legal, emotional, or just talking about how sick I was of pity casseroles from community mothers.
Tonight, I was sitting on the rocking chair on the porch, watching the sunset. I was supposed to go back to school tomorrow, which made me sick. Yet again, I'd be the center of attention.
A familiar Prius pulled into the driveway. Shayna got out a moment later. Her curly hair was pulled up in a bun, and she wore jeans and a red blouse with a cute blue peacoat.
