Chapter Three
Vivian
The living room is full of pink and purple balloons. Maisy runs past me, holding a streamer that flies behind her. “Vivie, look at me!”
“Are you a butterfly?”
“No!” She giggles as she spins in the air.
Hmm. I cup my chin. “A phoenix?”
“Noooo. I’m a dragon!”
I slap my hands on my cheeks in mock surprise. As if theDragon Princess-themed decorations hadn’t clued me in. “A scary dragon, oh no!” I pretend to run away and she darts after me, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Mom rushes into the room. “What’s going on?”
I point to Maisy. “We have a wild dragon on the loose. A fire-breathing dragon.”
Mom’s shoulders relax. She looks tired. As if all her energy has been siphoned away. “Is the dragon princess ready for her snack?”
Apparently, dragon princesses munch on apples and peanut butter when they’re not ridding the world of evil flying monkeys.
As Maisy happily eats an apple, I gather the steamers she has spread around the room. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“Just tired. I want this party to be perfect.” She smiles fondly at Maisy. “She barely remembers her other birthdays. Turning four is a big deal.”
“It’ll be fine, Mom.” This is where Jonah would probably give Mom a hug, but that’s not me. And it might freak her out if I even tried.
After two months of saving, I’m no closer to getting out of Nebraska. But at least now I have a possibility. Frankie called me last night, squealing so loud my ears are still ringing.
“Hold on to your curls, baby. I’ve got news!”
I pull the phone away for a second to regain my hearing. “Frankie, it’s late. I’m tired. Just”—I gesture for her to hurry up, even though she can’t see me—“tell me.”
“I’m about to make your dreams come true, and you’re getting snippy with me? Rude, Vivie.”
“I’m sorry.” I rub my temple.
“We’re good,” she says in a happy voice. Frankie is always full of absolute joy and snark. I’m the opposite. Full of doom and snark, but it somehow works. “Okay, so get this. Our company is sponsoring the talent show this year at San Diego Pridefest.” And then she squeals again.
Frankie works at Reign and Shine Fashion Consultants. Frankie’s living our dream while I’m stuck in The Cornhusker State. “My boss was going to be the emcee, but then they got Roz.” She pauses for effect. “Roz, Vivie.”
“That’s amazing, sweetie.”
She huffs when she doesn’t get the reaction she’s looking for. “This is your chance.”
“Frankie, sweetheart. You know I love you, but I’ve been on my feet all day and Cassandra was being a real B today, so could we move this along?”
The silence coming from my bestie isn’t good. Shit. “I’m giving you a pass, Vivie, because I know how hard this is for you. And because I’m too excited to give you the full silent treatment you deserve.” This pause is shorter. “Mr. Rainey is looking for new blood. And honestly, babe, no one here can put together a look like you can. And you have an amazing singing voice. Once he sees you perform, you’re in. You just have to get here.”
Frankie’s call last night gave me hope. But today, I’m not sure. Hope can be a cruel motherfucker sometimes. I’m ready and willing to make my dreams come true, but my ability to actually do that is limited.
For a moment, I consider telling Mom my dream of being a fashion consultant. But then I’d have to admit that I want to leave.
How can I do that when she looks ready to fall apart?
I can’t even tell her I want to enter the talent show. My track record for performing in front of crowds isn’t great. There’s a reason I struggled with speech class in my New York high school. And then there was the senior recital. I was standing with the rest of the seniors in the Hopeview High School gym. Everyone had their phones out, ready to capture the moment. Instead, they witnessed my failure as I bailed.
