Page 15

TREVOR

I wake to a text from Daddy Andy.

Andy: I hope you made it home safe and sound.

Trevor: Yes, thank you. And thank you for an amazing night, but red.

I’m not ready to talk about anything. He seems the type to respect boundaries and I don’t expect to hear from him again. But it was sweet that he wanted to make sure I got home safe.

The forum has messages asking me if I’m okay, if I got home, Maddie begging for forgiveness.

RaccoonBandit: I got home. Maddie, there’s nothing to forgive, but you’re forgiven, anyway. I love you all, but RED.

I log out of the forum, not needing the temptation.

It’s immature to block everyone out, but I can’t process my emotions when there are a bunch of people in my head.

I always give my energy to everyone else, but what about me?

What about Trevor? Dad was right. I need to figure out my passions in life.

I love going to the club, but last night, Little Trevor curled up and retreated. I have no idea how to bring him back.

I roll out of bed and pad to the bathroom.

I have a bruise on my cheekbone that’ll take a while to heal.

Mom will probably keep me away from the ticket booth until it’s back to normal.

I press my fingertips to my cheekbone and suck in a breath.

Somehow, the plastic eyes of the toy really got me good.

I know Maddie didn’t mean to hurt me, but I wish she’d think before she acted sometimes. I’ll text her later, but right now…

I pull on a carnival shirt and walk. I don’t deserve time off. I don’t deserve nice things. Somehow I keep my mind blank. When I reach the office trailer, I knock once before entering.

“I don’t need today off after all.”

Mom whips around from her chair and stares at me. “Fuck.” She pushes to her feet and stands in front of me. Her hands go to my cheeks. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I did this.”

My brows scrunch. “Did what?”

“Your eyes, they don’t sparkle anymore.” She blinks and looks away. “You have the prettiest eyes, but the sparkle. It’s gone. I did that to you.” She slumps back into her chair.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Shit . Your dad was right. You need time off. Real time off. I’m taking you off the schedule for six weeks.”

My stomach drops to my toes. “What? You can’t do that. What am I supposed to do?”

She gives me a soft smile. “Find yourself. If you want to come back after six weeks, I’ll put you back on the schedule. But I hope you find something better. Something you love.”

I blink back at her.

“And don’t worry about money. I’m going to pay you.”

“You can’t just pay me to do nothing.”

Mom types something into the computer. “It’s my business, kiddo. I can do whatever the fuck I want. Besides, you’re not the first person I’ve given six weeks off fully paid for their mental health.”

“I don’t know what the heck I want to do.”

“I know, but you deserve time to figure it out. Go, enjoy life. Screw around. But I don’t want to bail you out of jail if you can help it.”

I laugh, not knowing if she’s serious or not. “Maybe I’ll catch up on sleep.”

“That’s a good start.” She pushes back to her feet and pulls me in for a hug. “I know I pushed you into the carnival. I know you love it here, but I’ve burned you out on it. If you never come back, everything will be okay. Okay?”

It’s like the world falls off my shoulders. “Thank you.” I squeeze her closer before we release each other.

“I’d like to see you every few weeks, though. Maybe we can catch lunch? Or dinner?” She picks at her nails, nervous energy buzzing around her.

“I’d love that.”

She gives me one last hug before she shoos me out. “Go find something fun to do.”

Maybe I will, after a nap or two.