Time to show my family the new family I’ve just made.

•  •  •

There’s no way to describe how it feels to run onstage with a full audience cheering you on. I’ve never felt so exhilarated, so alive. When we bow after our final pose of the charivari and the crowd explodes into applause, I almost cry with happiness. At that moment, I know this is what I was made for. No matter what, I’m coming back next year. Better than ever. I won’t let this be my last time onstage.

The music and applause is a constant through the rest of the first act. Riley and I practice our routine and don’t drop a single pass. Then, just like during the rehearsal that morning, the first act ends almost as quickly as it started. My heart beats faster—our act is up after intermission.

Although Olga said we’re allowed to mingle with our parents, I stay backstage. For some reason, it makes it feel like I’m keeping this dream alive. Once I talk to my mom and dad, I’m back to being normal old Jennifer. So long as I stay back here, I’m still the circus star. Riley leaves to go say hi to Sandy, so I stay in the back and practice my solo passes.

What I don’t expect is for Megan to come up to me. She storms over in her silver leotard, and for a moment I think she’s going to punch me. Her hands are clenched at her sides, and she’s giving me a death glare. Her sisters are right behind her.

“I hope you’re happy,” Megan fumes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“Leave off it, Megan,” Sara says. “This isn’t a game. You’ve already done enough.”

“Yeah,” says her other sister. Olivia, I think her name is. “It’s the last day. Just leave her alone.”

“No,” Megan says. She shakes off her sisters and storms up to me. “He was supposed to choose me. Don’t you see that? It was always supposed to be this way: He was supposed to see me again and remember he loved me.” That’s when I realize there are actually tears in her eyes.

“C’mon,” Sara says. She reaches out again. “Just forget him, okay?”

“Yeah,” Olivia agrees. She takes Megan’s other arm.

“I hate you,” Megan says. “You aren’t good enough.”

But before I can get a question in, Olivia is guiding her distraught sister away. Sara lingers behind for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” she says. “About everything. She and Branden dated at camp two years back. He broke up with her. She’s been plotting this for a while—it’s half the reason she dragged us to this camp in the first place.”

“Oh,” I say. “I’m . . . sorry.”

She shrugs. “I’ve gotten used to it. Anyway, break a leg.”

“Thanks,” I say, and watch her follow her sisters to the front of the tent.

“Huh,” I murmur to myself. That was definitely not what I expected. I actually feel a little sorry for Megan. Well, for her sisters, at least. I wonder if she’s that demanding at home. She made them go to camp so she could hook up with Branden? No wonder she seemed so desperate.

I glance around, half expecting to see Branden come over and finally tell me whatever it was he wanted to say. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Must be out front with his parents.

Riley comes back a little while later. Almost on cue, the music in the tent changes.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

I smile. “Born ready.”

She gives me a quick hug. Then, when the cue hits, we run onstage.

Our act goes perfectly. When I’m in the spotlight, I’m no longer Jennifer. I’m a star, an actor on a glorious stage. When we finish in what seems like only heartbeats later, I feel connected to this place in a way I could never imagine before. Applause fills me. I take Riley’s hand and bow deeply, convinced I can hear my parents yelling high above the rest of the crowd. Then we run offstage.

The rest of the show is a blur.

In no time at all we’re gathering for the finale, Riley’s hand firmly in mine and a grin plastered on both our faces. We run out into the ring, and the troupe performs its final act. The crowd doesn’t stop clapping, not for the entire routine. Not until Olga comes out and thanks the parents for letting us be part of such an amazing experience.

“Now,” she says, “we’d like to extend the circus experience to you, the families who have supported us. For the next hour, our coaches will be on hand to teach you whatever skills you’d like to try out, from juggling to the flying trapeze rig out back.” She looks behind her to us, and I swear her eyes catch on me. She grins. “This extends to our performers as well, just in case they wanted one last shot at a new skill.”

My heart leaps. Riley’s grip tightens on mine.

Olga’s giving me a second chance.

I could try the flying trapeze again.

Before I can get lost in the thought, the troupe dashes offstage. Behind the tent, everyone is hugging and congratulating one another as parents and family members come back to offer their own praise. I spot my parents and run over to them, wrapping them both in a hug.

“You were amazing, Jennifer!” my dad says. My mom echoes this, squeezing me tight.

“Thanks, guys,” I say. I look to the flying trapeze. “Before we go, there’s something I’ve gotta do.”

They don’t ask what I mean, just give me another hug and let me run off. I head straight to the flying trapeze. Time to face my fears.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

All the coaches are already there, along with a handful of families. Only a few other kids from the camp are there, still in makeup and costume.

The moment I see the rig, my heart does a little somersault and the fear comes back. You can’t do that. You’re too much of a coward. It’s too high—you’ll just panic again and make a fool of yourself in front of all these people.

But that voice doesn’t last very long. It can’t, not under the pressure of the new strength I’ve found. I was just onstage performing in front of a live audience. My act went perfectly. And now, here I am, given a second chance just like Riley said. I’m not going to blow this. I’m going to prove to everyone, once and for all, that Jennifer Hayes is not a coward: I’m a circus star.

I step up to the front of the crowd—no one’s forming a line—and offer to go first. Tanya looks at me with a small smile on her face. She remembers me trying the trapeze before, I know it. But rather than smiling like she’s laughing inside, her grin is comforting. Proud, almost. She straps the safety belt around my waist.

“You know the drill,” she says, putting a hand on my shoulder. She leans over. “You can do this,” she whispers. Then she lets me go.

I stare up at the ladder, the height that has haunted me for the last week. It seems to represent everything I’ve been through, every time I’ve given up or failed. My hand shakes as I reach out and take hold of the first rung. The small voice inside of me is telling me to give up now, before I take that first step, before I find out just how much of a coward I really am.

I ignore the voice. I climb.

I don’t look down as I climb up the shaky rope ladder. It sways slightly as my weight shifts, and a knot of vertigo lodges in my throat. But I don’t stop, not even when I reach the point where I gave up last time. I don’t look down or let that voice take hold until I reach the very top, where one of the coaches waits with a hand outstretched. When I’m on the tiny wooden platform that feels like it’s a hundred feet above the ground, I look out to the tent and the crowd below me.

What a rush! Everything is spread out and tiny. I see my mom and dad down there, waving at me. Riley and Sandy, both of them jumping up and down with excitement. Tyler and Kevin, hand in hand, cheering. Leena’s there beside them, calling out that I can do it. And I even see Branden, standing a little ways apart, looking up at me with an expression I can’t quite see.