Page 4 of Dungeons and Drama

But my tone gives me away. It’s not about the games themselves. I’m sure this stuff can be fun; otherwise Dad couldn’t afford to live on his own, even if it is in a small apartment. But whenever I think of this store, I think of my parents’ divorce. I’m sure they must’ve been happy at some point, but what I remember is Dad getting it into his head that he wanted to start his own store and Mom trying to talk him out of it because of the expense and time commitment. He had a good job in IT before that. But he was so obsessed with the idea that it tore them apart. I always wished thatDad would just give up the games. How much could they matter? More than Mom? More than me? The answer was pretty clear.

I look up defiantly. “It’s not my thing. I guess I didn’t inherit the gene.”

“Great. Well, I’m absolutely thrilled to work together, then.”

He stalks away and I have the urge to bolt out the front door and into oncoming traffic.

Chapter Two

I’ve never been so happy to be back at school. Mom didn’t go so far as to take away my phone, so I spent Sunday night catching Hoshiko up on everything that happened at the store and lamenting that we won’t be hanging out at each other’s houses until after my probation is done. This stupid punishment makes me extra grateful to be sitting by her side in choir on Monday.

“I’m so sorry, Riley,” she says for the hundredth time. “I should have talked you out of driving to the show. Somehow.”

I raise an eyebrow and she laughs and plays with the ends of her long fishtail braid. Hoshiko is a master at braiding her long black hair and usually comes to school with a different braid each day. She and I don’t exactly have the same style—most days she’s in yoga pants and a T-shirt from one of the many dance and theater camps she’s attended in pastsummers—but I like that we each have our own way of expressing our creativity.

She shouldn’t blame herself for what happened. We both know I can be impulsive, and nothing and no one was going to talk me out of taking Mom’s car when Hoshiko’s broke down. We hadn’t spent hundreds of dollars and the last two months talking about seeing the touring production ofWaitressjust to let the opportunity slip through our fingers. And honestly, even after getting in trouble with my parents, my grounding, and that horrible interlude with Nathan yesterday, I would do it again in a heartbeat. Nothing compares to getting autographs afterward and having the lead wish me luck with my student directing. It was a dream come true.

“So, just work for two months, huh?” Hoshiko asks with a sigh. “And you’re sure you’ll be allowed to quit this job by the time the musical gets going?”

“Yes, absolutely. There’s no way I’m missing that.”

Hoshiko’s shoulders relax. “Good. I don’t want to do it without you.”

It’s kind of her to say that, but there’s no way I would let her miss the musical no matter what was happening with me. Hoshiko is the most amazing performer. Her parents chose her name because it meansstar childin Japanese, which is perfect for her because she’s definitely going to be a star. In fact, if she hadn’t been my best friend since fourth grade, I’d probably be ridiculously jealous of her. She’s smart and gorgeous, she’s an amazing singer, and she’s an even better dancer. She takes ballet, jazz, and tap classes every week, and she’s even taken classes on Broadway dancing.

“Which musical do you think they’ll choose this year?” She nods to the musical posters from previous years that encircle the cream walls of the choir room. They go back for more than fifteen years—long enough that the oldest ones are looking a bit yellow and dated.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say without Mrs. Bordenkircher around anymore. But with any luck maybe I’ll be able to help with the choosing.”

Hoshiko and I have been involved with the high school musical for two years, but our love of theater goes back to when we met at a theater summer camp as nine-year-olds. I was immediately drawn to her joy and the fact that I never had to tone myself down around her. I could be as over-the-top extra as I wanted, and she never got embarrassed or annoyed. In fact, watching her kill every performance while also being the only Japanese American girl in our camp taught me what it meant to be truly confident onstage. Since then, we’ve never left each other’s sides.

Now that I’m a junior, though, my dream is to become student director for our musical. Well, actually my dream is to be a stage director for Tony Award–winning Broadway musicals, but we all have to start somewhere. Unfortunately, the school’s longtime choir and musical director retired, so now I have to prove myself all over again to someone new.

I frown and look down at Miss Sahni from my chair on the tiered risers. She’s sitting in front of a piano, laughing and chatting with a few of the other students before class starts. She’s much more stylish than most of our teachers, and her bright jewelry and red ankle boots speak to my soul. She’s very young—just out of college—and I already have afeeling she’s going to be super popular. It would probably be a good idea to let her know how enthusiastic I am for this year’s production, but we’re less than two weeks into the school year and I don’t want to overwhelm her.

The other students Miss Sahni was talking to go back to their places on the risers and I stand decisively. “All right, I’m going to say something before we get started.”

But before I can take another step, someone’s moved in front of me and blocked my way. I recoil when I see who it is. Paul—my ex and the absolutelastperson I want to see.

“Hi, Hoshiko. Riley, how are you?” He asks me the question like I’ve had a sudden death in the family.

I bristle at his tone. I’ve managed to mostly avoid him since Disaster Day—my term for the day back in June when Paul broke up with me after he scored the lead role in the community production ofThe Music Manand I didn’t get a part. I’ve been seething ever since, particularly about his patronizing tone when he told me he wouldn’t have time for me anymore.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I was just wondering how you’ve been since, you know…everything with us this summer. It feels like you’ve been avoiding me.”

Um,of courseI’ve been avoiding him. It’s just self-preservation to avoid any tool who makes you wipe snot bubbles away while telling you that your talents could be better utilized as part of the stage crew. But also, does he really think that our breakup is equivalent to an actual traumatic event in my life? I have to hold back the impulse to pretend-barf at his feet.

“I’m great.” I lift my chin and give a wide smile.

“Yeah?” His eyes fill with rage-inducing pity. “I thought about you over the weekend and hoped you weren’t too upset about everything.”

I hesitate for a second before I realize what he’s likely talking about.The Music Manheld its last show over the weekend. Yeah, I’m sure he gave me a ton of thought while he was basking in the standing ovations for his lead role and flirting with all the actresses his age.

Hoshiko elbows me. “We had an amazing time on Friday.”

I nod. “Yes, incredible. We sawWaitressin Columbus. And we got autographs after.”

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