Everyone was heading out of the theater to get ready for the bonfire. I was expected to be there since I was a cheerleader. I just didn't feel like cheering tonight, though.

There was something empty and cold inside me. I didn't know if it was stress or grief, but I suspected it was loneliness.

I had surrounded myself with people who liked me but never invested themselves in friendship. Here at the theater, people tried to be real friends, but the rest of the students would all just be acting at the bonfire.

Life was funny that way. I could be surrounded by people in a crowd and still be alone. Once this production was over, I'd be all alone again with my adoring fans and fake friends who couldn't be bothered to know the real me.

I stood in the middle of the stage, looking at all the empty chairs in the audience. We wouldn't be performing here. The festival would be in a larger city to the north.

I'd have to pretend that I was here. That was all acting really was. Pretending wasn't always bad, though. It could give you strength when you had none and courage when you lacked the strength to stand on your own two feet.

The production was going to be excellent. Now, all the pressure was on me, Jack, and Samantha to perform our scene well enough to be invited to perform the whole show in the second round.

I pulled out my phone to make sure there weren't any messages. Unfortunately, there was a missed call from my father and a few texts from Parker.

Responding to Parker first was the easiest. Then, my finger hovered over the call-back button for my father. I didn't want to talk to him, but I needed to try. I was an actress and could do this.

I jammed the green call button before I could come up with another excuse. Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I waited in anticipation as the number dialed out.

"Hello," came the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Dad," I said.

"Shayna, peanut," he said. "I'm excited to see your play tomorrow. Parker said you are doing Shakespeare. You were always so good at acting when you were a kid."

I tried to smile. "Yeah, I'm excited about it."

"I know you'll be less than thrilled to see me," he said. "But you're still my little girl. I do love you."

A million stupid responses boiled behind my tongue. There were cruel ones. Sarcastic ones, too. My father deserved every insult. I had every right to call him every name in the book. He'd abandoned Parker and me.

Except I was being honest now. And the pain he'd caused was in the past. I was stronger now, and Parker had forgiven our father. He still loved us and was trying harder than ever to reach out. It was time to let go.

"I know, Dad," and for the first time in years, I allowed myself a reminder that even though he was a flawed person, he loved me. And deep down, I loved him too. 

My father let his inability to be in the same room with his ex-wife affect his relationship with his children. It was his fault, but at least now he was trying. Even if it was nearly too late.

"I wanted to say I love you. Peanut, I know Christmas is out of the question, but it would mean a lot to me if you came down for Easter," he said. "We're doing this huge egg hunt for the kids. It's going to be cute."

The very idea of spending Easter with him made me sick, even if Easter was a long way off. It would be abandoning Mom. Still, for the first time in a long while, my father and I were both trying to be better at the same time.

Hate made me blind. I hadn't seen Jack suffering in front of me. It was time to let go of all my anger and see what else my hatred blinded me from. 

"I'm sure Parker and I can spare a Sunday for an egg hunt, Dad," I said. "We might even be able to work out a visit during Christmas. I'll see you tomorrow at the play."

"Wow, peanut," my father sounded flabbergasted. "I didn't... we'll see you then. I'll be sure to tell Lizzie to make you a basket."

"Thanks, Dad," I said. "I have to go now."

"Bye, honey," my father said and hung up.

The world's weight felt like it was lifted from my shoulders as I let out a deep breath. I could play nice with my father. I could accept his new life and get to know my half-siblings. I didn't have to like his choices, but I could accept that they were his decisions. 

When I looked up, I noticed the rest of the cast had already all left except one. Jack was still putting a few things in his backpack. I couldn't imagine that his smile was genuine. Just like me, he was playing a role.

His uncle walked behind him and patted him on the back. "Jack, I'm gone. I'll take Lilly home. Lock up the theater, will you?"

He tossed his nephew a set of keys. Jack caught them and gave a small little bow. That made his sister beam. That's what he wanted, after all. Everything Jack did was for those girls. 

"We'll catch you later," Jamie said.

Anton began whistling, and it took me a moment to realize the tune was "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" from The Lion King. Jack shoved his uncle playfully, and Anton took Jamie's hand and left the theater.

"Stay out of trouble, Simba," Lilly said, deadpanned.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a giggle. Lilly followed her uncle out of the theater, and once she was gone, I couldn't hold it in any longer. Laughter burst from my mouth.

Jack looked up at me on the stage above him. His eyes softened, and he walked up the steps on the side of the stage to approach me.

"So, I guess I'll see you at the bonfire?" He asked.

Here he was, carrying on like everything was normal. It was so impossible, and I admired him for the bravery that must take.

"You're doing the big football bonfire jamboree?" I asked. "You're still the quarterback after all this?"

"Yes, I'll be there," he said, moving a little closer until we were only a few feet apart.

"And I'm still a cheerleader," I said dumbly. "You won't have to wait to see me."

"Oh, yeah," Jack bit his lip, and his ears turned pink. "I forgot."

This line of conversation was dangerous. It seemed weird to only have friendship between us after all we'd been through.

"Where are your sisters?" I asked, trying to find some conversation that didn't involve him looking at me like I had all the answers.

"They found a place," Jack said, scratching the back of his neck. "My uncle hopes the school might hire him full-time if we do well at the festival. Actors don't get paid much, so he can't hope to take us in and go back on the road."

I hadn't even thought about that. If Anton stayed to raise his nieces and nephew, he'd have to give up his Broadway career. 

"And your mom?" I asked.

The moment I said it, I knew I'd messed up. The sadness crept back into his eyes, and his merry grin faded ever so slightly.

"She has two weeks tops," he said. "We were expecting this. I'll see her when I drop by the hospital."

It was a horrible prognosis. He was waiting for the inevitable. It made me want to throw my arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. Unfortunately, we both knew that was a lie.

"I'm sorry," I said, but the words were so overused they felt meaningless. 

"Don't be," Jack said. "You've already gone above and beyond the call of duty. Thanks for coming with me to the hospital, even if it was just for the girls."

"It wasn't just for the girls," I blurted.

My cheeks heated. I'd just admitted something that couldn't be shoved back in a jar on the shelf. It hung in the air between us, nebulous and uncertain. 

I looked down. Jack had a bit of mud smeared on his white and blue sneakers. Seeing a small flaw in someone that I usually found impeccable was strange.

Admitting I was there for Jack out loud unleashed more emotions bottled on my shelf. Something not entirely bad. Friendship or maybe...

I was welcoming new friends into my life. I was actually going to visit my father. I wasn't going to use Parker as a life preserver anymore. My relationship with Jack could change, too.

Breathing in the change, I smiled. "I should go home to get ready for the bonfire."

"I have football film to watch next Saturday," Jack said. "Maybe after I shower and stuff that evening, we could catch a movie?"

It wouldn't be bad to spend some time with Jack. He wasn't the rich and pompous jerk I'd assumed he was. Now that I had wiped away my misconceptions about him, I knew he'd do anything to protect the people he cared about.

Standing up to his father made him a hero. Jack was different now, but so was I. He didn't have to be the villain in my story anymore.

"Maybe Jack," I smiled. "Just maybe."