Always Never Yours(6)

“—tomorrow,” I finish, and give Owen a nod. “Talk to you later, Friar Lawrence.”



* * *





I close the front door quietly when I get home. The house is silent, nothing short of a miracle these days. I head upstairs and hope my mom isn’t frustrated. I’m a little late for our weekly video call.

Mom lives in Texas, where she moved when she and my dad divorced. When my dad divorced her, to be precise. I don’t really understand why it happened. I know they married and had me when they were only twenty-three. People throw around things like irreconcilable differences and too young and fell out of love. I guess I don’t really understand what it is to fall out of love. I wouldn’t understand. I’m never given the chance.

But I remember the day my parents sat me down in the living room, my dad stony-faced and my mom trying to keep her composure, and told me it was over. The words mutual decision were repeated over and over. They began to ring false when Mom went to cry in the bathroom while Dad finished the conversation.

I didn’t move with her to Texas because I couldn’t pass up the Stillmont theater program, which she understood. I think it was good for her to get some distance from reminders of her ex-husband, me included. But I’ve spent every summer vacation at her condo in San Marcos since the split three years ago. While I could do without the 100-degree heat, it’s nice helping out with the booth at the farmers’ markets and fairs where she sells her jewelry.

I ease open the door to my room. It’s a mess. Of course it’s a mess. Three maxi dresses that didn’t find their way to the closet are draped over my bedframe. It appears I launched a denim jacket at the green coat rack in the corner but missed, and it’s heaped on the floor on top of my boots.

My laptop’s buried under a tangle of jewelry—the remains of this morning’s failed attempt to find a pair of earrings I’m pretty sure vanished in Tyler’s couch. I sweep everything off and shove aside my wristband alarm clock. It was a “gift” from Dad, who was far too pleased with himself for thinking of it. I’ve worn industrial-strength earplugs at night since our house got noisier a year and a half ago but I have to wake up for school at 6, and the horrible wristband vibrates me awake.

I open FaceTime on my computer, taking a second to brush my fingers through my hair.

Mom’s face appears on the screen. “Hey, I’m really sorry I’m late,” I rush to say.

“If I expected you to be on time, I wouldn’t be a very in-touch mother.” She tucks a strand of wavy dark hair behind her ear. Mom has hair like mine, only much bigger. “What were you up to?”

“Just some unprotected sex with a guy I met on the Internet,” I reply casually.

Mom blanches, then her expression flattens when she realizes I’m joking. “Don’t terrify your mother, Megan. It’s not nice.”

Grinning, I continue. “I would’ve preferred unprotected sex with creepy Internet dude, honestly. I had to go to a cast party.”

She studies me, confused. “For one of your scenes?”

“No,” I groan. I explain about Romeo and Juliet and why I was forced to audition. “It turns out I’m . . . Juliet, or whatever.”

Mom’s eyebrows skyrocket. “You auditioned for a lead?”

“Of course I didn’t! Jody’s just being impossible. Believe me, I’d be anyone else if she’d let me.”

Mom chuckles. “I’m just glad I wasn’t in the dark about my daughter’s newfound acting aspirations.”

“No, there’s nothing new with me,” I say quietly.

Mom’s watching me with something like concern when my bedroom door opens without warning.

“Megan, what did I—” My dad’s voice comes through the door, followed by the rest of him. He stops when he catches sight of my mom. “Oh, right, sorry,” he mutters, suddenly stiff. “Hi, Catherine,” he says without stepping farther into my room. “How are you and Randall?”

“Fine,” Mom replies in the pinched tone she always gets when talking to my dad. “How are you? And Rose?” she adds after a second.

“Tired.” He gives what I think is supposed to be a smile, but it looks strained. “Rose is going to take leave soon.”

“That’s exciting.” Mom nods.

Looking the opposite of excited to be having this conversation, Dad places his hand on the doorknob. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. Megan, just keep the volume down.”

I sigh, exasperated, and mumble about not being able to talk in my own bedroom.

Mom says gently after a moment, “You know, you’re always welcome to move in with Randall and me.”

I force a scoff. “And miss the opportunity to play Juliet opposite Tyler Dunning?”

Mom grimaces. “Oof, I’m sorry to hear that. But really,” she continues, “if it’s ever too chaotic there, we’d love to have you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, softening, not wanting her generosity to go unacknowledged. She deserves a real answer. “It’s just, I’m at the top of the drama program at Stillmont. I’ve built up my scene work here, I’m in charge of organizing the Senior Scene Showcase, Romeo and Juliet’s even going to be featured in Ashland. I have to stay.”