Shelly was seventeen years and three hundred sixty four days old, a straight A student and the apple of her father’s eye. She donned her school uniform hoping it would be the last time, and thinking, I’m so excited and nervous I could just throw up.
She wondered how she would lie to her parents. She had never done that before. To focus her mind on less unsettling thoughts, she got up to retrieve her books and spun her head, throwing a wide smile into the mirror with a backwards glance, trying to imitate a movie star she had seen at the theater. Not bad, Miss Gennalise Chalcedony! Not bad at all!
She called herself by an alias she’d thought of. One more fitting for the big city and the grand stage. “You know,” she whispered in her southern drawl and winking at her reflection, “for when you’re a big star!”
She smoothed her hair and tucked some escaped tendrils behind her ear. She was the picture of innocence as she ascended the stairs for breakfast. Her stomach churned, knowing this would have to be a perfect performance.
Shelly mumbled her way through breakfast trying hard not to meet her parents eyes. They were always so ebullient in the morning, effervescent with questions about her daily goals. Any other time, she would have felt refreshed and welcomed the attention but this day, not so much.
She managed to escape their barrage of morning questions, saying her stomach was upset. At least, I didn’t have to lie about that, she comforted herself, surmising, I’ve always been a nice Catholic girl. I never once told them a lie but, suddenly I’m waist deep in lies! God, I no longer need a push broom. I need a snow shovel!
She rolled her eyes trying to calm her fears and rubbing the bills together for the bus ticket she would purchase, whispering, “I hope you’re right, Mr. Samuel. Smoot but, you wouldn’t be funding my audition if you didn’t have a really good instinct about me. I’m going to be a huge star!”
© September 6, 2019 at 2:16 AM – All Rights Reserved
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