30 Day Trial Period

3.26 Day Seventeen: Parker

I had to stop being so fucking surprised.

Mrs. Donnelly passed me, slipping into the room with the assistant director, Annalise. I turned away and pretended to still be on my phone so no one would notice my face.

Why couldn't I have stayed in the world of five minutes ago? I wanted to go back to five minutes ago. Five days ago. Five days ago, when I had a best friend and I didn't have to think about losing love. Five years ago, when I didn't have anything so precious that could be taken away, but I lived in a world of weak houses with no foundation. It was about time it all came down.

The things that once tied me down unraveled and frayed.

My palms suffered rope burn from holding on too tight and I could only handle so much pain before I let go. No more ties left. The ache was gone, replaced by a cold empty feeling.

Mrs. Donnelly's voice snuffed out the voices in the drama room and made my skin crawl. Even hearing someone cough was enough to make my teeth clench. She explained, "Listen up everyone. I know we've gone through the trenches during this production already, but I have some more news."

A chorus of groans answered back.

"I know, I know. This one is small. Just a small little hiccup. The advertisements we printed in the local paper announced the wrong day... by a month."

"It's kind of hilarious at this point," Jordan guffawed, and the sound grated my ears.

"It'll all be alright," Mrs. Donnelly said, dumbly. "We will continue to persevere."

"Why?" I said without pause. "Let's just call the whole thing off. I mean it's stupid to think we can still do this fucking play without half a cast and no one coming to watch. Unless—"

"Parker!" Mrs. Donnelly gawked.

Somehow, I ended up standing in the middle of the door, gripping the threshold until my knuckles turned white. "Unless, the plan is to get laughed at? Then, let me tell you we're doing the Lord's work! I hope I get nailed in the face with a rotten tomato."

"Parker." Mrs. Donnelly's voice dropped two octaves. Her stance stiffened as she stood up to match my height. "I will speak to you outside. I'm not going to take that kind of attitude. Not in my classroom."

"Wow, you're really sounding like a director now-"

"Parker, I will give you one more warning and that's it."

"Parker, let's go outside," Lizzie said, walking towards me with her hands out. She approached me like a wild dog. I must have looked crazy. I felt crazy. When she approached, she whispered, "Is this about your mom?"

My words came out hot from the embers inside my lungs. Every word burned my tongue. "Do it. Do your worse. I'd like to actually see you do something-" I stared across Lizzie's head and glared at Mrs. Donnelly. We mirrored each other's glares and red faces. It was difficult to hear myself over my heart thrumming against my ears.

Finally, Mrs. Donnelly snapped, "Parker, you are off costumes and that is final."

"What?" Camille blurted. "But what will we do without-"

Mrs. Donnelly snapped her hand straight at Camille, cutting her off. "We will get the costumes from donations and thrift stores like we do every year. Parker, you'll help Ian with the lighting, but if you say one more word you are out of the production entirely."

I straightened up, swallowing the lump of anger like a hairball I couldn't hack out of my throat. Keeping my shoulders rolled back and my chin in the air, I stormed through the room and grabbed my tub of costumes, stumbling to hold it as I pushed my rack of clothes. These beautiful glimmering gowns and suits that made me want to cry. Still, I wore a mask of pride that didn't hide my swollen red face or the tears welling up in my eyes.