Page 85 of The Summer Show
“I’m doing the right thing.”
Silence.
“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of criminal. I can’t go through with the rest of the show. Not when it’s rigged.”
The silence grew even more judgmental.
I leaned back in the chair and watched the stars watching me, watching them.
“Besides, this way Nick is sure to win, and then he can use the money to help Bryan and his family.”
There was a ruffling sound—the sound of disappointment.
“What? It’s the right thing to do and you know it.”
Honk.
“Now you’re just being mean.”
The back door opened. Thanos stepped out, a concerned frown twisting his mouth. “Are you talking to yourself?”
“What? No. Who does that? Crazy people. I’m talking Murder Goose. It’s like tough love therapy. What happened to your eyebrow?”
I’d swear as recently as this morning, Thanos had two distinct eyebrows. Now he had a long monobrow that stretched from the edge of one eye to the other, dialing up the comedy on his good looks.
“Ana likes to keep me on my toes,” he said. “She’s dangerous with school supplies, and I’m a heavy sleeper.”
“Hand sanitizer or hairspray will clean it off in a jiffy.”
“My plan is to keep it to see if my students notice.” The black Sharpie monobrow dipped in the center. “You doing okay? You are talking to a goose.”
“She’s my therapist now.”
“I’m going to back away slowly and make no sudden moves.”
“That would be for the best.”
Alone again—
Honk.
Pardon me; not entirely alone again, I poked my decision to sit out the final episodes for weaknesses.
For a moment my conviction wobbled, but it never did fall.
thirty-one
If my brain was on my side, it would have ignored the roosters and let me sleep. And if my body was on Team Kathleen, the pressure on my chest never would have registered. I would still be lost in dreamland, eating ice cream with Jo March while Nick rubbed my feet.
For the record, I was still bitter that Laurie ended up with Amy March.
Honk.
I opened one eye. Murder Goose was planted on my boobs, looking entirely too comfortable. Also, who knew geese were this heavy?
“This is how I imagine a mammogram feels,” I told her.
Mammogram Goose, formerly known as Murder Goose, abandoned my chest and leaped off the bed in a clatter of wings and indignation. She paused at the door and glanced back at me.