“I told everyone in theater that I would try to find some things we could use for costumes. Maybe the thrift store will have some weird stuff. Since you’re already bringing donations, I thought I'd come, too.”
I hadn’t planned to stay longer than the time it took to pull the boxes from the truck bed, but I would enjoy the time with my little brother. I’m graduating soon, and moments like this won’t happen much longer. Plus, I’d love to get a read on how he's doing with school and theater and Citrus Scholar. I want to make sure he’s on the right path.
I shrug. “Finewith me.”
“Great.”
We’ve barely pulled ourselves up into the cab of my truck when David connects his phone to my stereo and starts playing some music. He rolls down the window and starts singing along loudly to the song. I smile to myself when he starts dancing. He’s got his arms in the air and looks like someone’s crazy aunt on the dance floor of a wedding. I let this go on for a few songs and even join him on one before I reach over and turn down the music.
“Hey,” David says. “I was listening to that.”
“Yeah, and singing along, too. My ears can only take so much.”
He snorts as he rests his elbow out the window. “Don’t be jealous because I got all the skills in that department.”
I raise my brow as I turn on to Main Street. “Jealous that I don’t sound like a dying deer when I sing?”
“Yeah, right. You only wish that I sounded like a dying deer so you didn’t sound so bad.”
I chuckle as I flip down my visor to get the sun out of my eyes. David’s right. A good singing voice is not something I was gifted with. I like to do it in the privacy of my truck and sometimes in the shower, but I can’t carry a tune to save my life. I may have more talent in athletics, but David got everything related to the arts. He plays the piano, sings better than anyone I know, and brings characters to life on stage.
“How’s theater going?” I ask. I’m so happy he gets to do it this year. I know he got the part of Lumière forBeauty and the Beast,but beyond that, I’m out of the loop.
“Good. I think everything’s coming together. Everyone’s been cast, we’ve been given our scripts to start memorizing…” He trails off and shrugs.
“But?”
He sighs loud enough I can hear it over the rush of wind in the cab. “We still need a few stagehands. It’s a pretty big production, and it takes a lot of people to pull off everything.”
“So get a few more people.”
He laughs. “If only it were that easy.”
“Just ask around.”
“Okay, fine. Want to be a stagehand?”
I laugh back. “Yeah, right.”
His smile disappears. “Therein lies the rub.”
“Wait?” My mouth falls open. “You were serious? But I’ve never done theater in my life. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”
“It’s not that hard. You just help with changing the set between scenes. You wear all black, no one sees you, and it would look great for Citrus Scholar.”
He’s right. It wouldlook great for Citrus Scholar. I have athletics, grades, and student government, but I need more. I briefly wonder what Ella is working on to make herself look better than me, and a pit forms in my stomach. She could be doing something arts related, and I wouldn’t know it. Ceramics, interpretive dance—does she play an instrument that I don’t know about? Theater could be the perfect way for me to tick off that box.
But it’stheater.
I really am happy that David has a passion for it, and Idon’t think less of him for singing and dancing on stage. It’s just not my thing. I know I should say yes—not only for my sake, for his, too—but I’d rather find another way to fill that void. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel in frustration. “When do you need a decision?"
“Monday?”
That’s only a couple of days, but it shouldn’t matter. I should be saying yes right now. I sigh. “Let me think about it?”
“Sure,” he says. “And if not, I’m sure I'll find someone. I just thought I’d ask.”
I nod as I pull up to the thrift store. “Why don’t you start looking around for costumes, and I’ll carry these boxes in?”
