Play nice with Shayna.

Seeing it written at the top of my script in my uncle's looping handwriting made me want to laugh. It wasn't my fault he cast us as lovers in a play when she usually refused to speak to me in real life.

When Uncle Anton proposed directing my high school's first-ever Shakespeare production, I assumed the idea would never take off. Yet now, here I was on stage with the oddest collective group of students Crestview High School had to offer.

The lights beamed down as I looked at my script one more time. Lines of dialogue were arranged down the page with my various scrawled notes and stage directions, including the friendly reminder from my uncle.

I tried to ignore Shayna prancing across the stage. She'd auditioned for my uncle's play despite it being common knowledge that I was also auditioning.

She wasn't the only person who'd lined up for a fine arts credit after my uncle struck a deal with the school to direct As You Like It. Between everyone's homework and extracurricular activities, there wasn't much rehearsal time that worked for everyone.

This didn't deter Uncle Anton. He was convinced we could practice even if it meant we had forty-five-minute rehearsals at the old community theater on weeknights.

My mother always said her brother would imagine greatness and do anything to achieve it. I'd seen his first off-Broadway show when I was seven and was mesmerized.

Now, he was back in town after ten years in New York City. He'd convinced the principal to let him put on a Shakespeare production at the state festival. He sat in the audience tonight, scribbling notes on a clipboard.

There was a sharp jab at my back, and I looked up to see Hugh pointing at the script to get my attention.

"Come on, dude," he said, adjusting his glasses. "We're about to go on."

I stiffened and walked out on stage on cue with Hugh and Rita towards Kai, Carson, Shayna, and Tasha. Moving off to the right of the stage, I stood alone as the others said their lines.

"Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his," Hugh said as Duke Frederick, "own peril on his forwardness."

Shayna pointed at me. "Is yonder the man?"

Kai nodded. "Even he, madam."

"Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully." Tasha said.

They couldn't have been more different off-stage, but Tasha and Shayna made a lovely Celia and Rosalind. Tasha shed her uptight grade-oriented persona for a playful princess, while Shayna commanded all her confidence as the cheerleading captain to tackle Rosalind.

It impressed me that my uncle had found any onstage talent at a school without a drama department. Hugh was on the debate team, which I guessed was like performing, and Carson and Kai both played instruments.

My uncle liked to say that the stage was a place of transformation. It could change and make anyone into someone else. He'd then somehow brought out those qualities in my peers.

When Uncle Anton made his first Broadway appearance, I was twelve years old. He took me backstage during our visit and told me that when he stepped out under the lights, even in rehearsal, he could be anyone he chose.

Dad laughed when I told him what Uncle Anton said back at the hotel. He said no one could be happy as an actor because it was a flakey career and would never provide stability.

In a way, he was right. Uncle Anton had come home from New York three months ago and now, during the day, worked in food delivery. Still, he never complained. He seemed far happier than Dad, the angry career lawyer whose only goals in life included making money and winning even the pettiest of arguments.

I hoped my sister Lilly was giving him a wide berth tonight. We didn't need a repeat of last week, even if she was his favorite. I resisted the urge to slip my phone out of my pocket and send her a quick message to check on her.

Lilly was smart. As the oldest of my sisters, she understood why keeping Dad happy was of the utmost importance. We both knew the consequences if we stepped out of line, and we did our best to keep our younger sisters, Mary and Maddy, away from his wrath.

Kai cleared his throat. "Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you."

Carson was smirking and pointing at the script. It was my fault for not paying better attention. I'd get him back later. Fumbling with the packet in my hands, my eyes quickly located the next line.

"I attend them with all respect and duty." I winked at the girls.

Tasha giggled in response to try to stay in character, while Shayna, very much not in character, rolled her eyes.

"Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?" The line sounded almost sarcastic coming from Shayna's mouth.

I smiled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Uncle Anton in the audience scribbling something furiously on his notes before giving me a warning glare. I knew the line. It had been one of the first I'd memorized because it was the first time I got to interact directly with Shayna in the show.

"No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I

come but in, as others do, to try with him the

strength of my youth."

Carson raised an eyebrow and reached up to play with his headphones around his neck. That signal confirmed my suspicions. I was coming off a little too strong tonight, and as my oldest friend, he would call me on it. Instead, he looked at his watch and stepped toward the audience.

"Anton, it's past eight," he said. "I have band practice."

Inwardly, I groaned. Instead of just stopping the scene, Carson would stop the whole rehearsal. I glanced at my watch. It was past eight, so his protest wasn't completely unfounded.

"We can call it quits for the evening," Uncle Anton said. "Samantha, you can turn off the stage lights. I'll email you some notes later. Don't forget to keep working on your monologues. It's an important part of the festival."

Rita blanched. "I keep getting mine all mixed up. It's embarrassing."

"Keep practicing," Novah suggested.

It was a good suggestion, except it was coming from Novah Roberson. She was easily the most laid-back person in the junior class. She usually didn't care about school, so I was surprised she was in the play and that she'd practiced her lines. 

"You can try Jack's crazy method of music," Shayna said as she picked up her purse. "Still can't believe you made Carson waste an hour composing a tune to help you learn your monologue."

She rolled her eyes. If I replied, she'd just start ignoring me again. I watched her boyfriend Juan take her hand and smirk at me.

"Not sure that will work," Rita said. "I might end up singing it, and it's a monologue, not a musical."

"I promise I'll help you during lunch tomorrow," Tasha said. "You'll get it."

"I have two more monologues to memorize, so you aren't alone," Shayna said. "See you all tomorrow."

"Maybe then someone will stop crushing on my girlfriend," Juan said. "And we can actually get something done."

With that, he led her out of the theater. I watched them go as I tucked my script into my bag. Even though Shayna had hated my guts for years, I'd never figured out why.

I asked her to homecoming last year. She turned me down. This year, I slipped a note in her locker so there would be a little less public embarrassment if she said no. She responded by posting her dress plans with Juan all over social media.

Everyone at school thought it was weird that the cheerleading captain hated the quarterback. My football friends were full of suggestions about whom I should date next since I'd broken up with Carrie the day before.

It didn't surprise me when Carrie dumped me right after homecoming. To be honest, my heart wasn't really in it, to begin with. Dad was adamant that I didn't attend homecoming alone like last year, so I arranged to go out with Carrie for a few weeks.

"Give it a rest," Carson said. "You know Shayna doesn't like you."

"Which makes no sense," I sighed. "I've never done anything bad to her."

"I know, dude," Carson said. "And I gotta run. Rissa will have my hide if I'm late for band practice again. You know how she is."

I laughed. Since Carson had gotten together with his bandmate, he'd been over the moon. Sure, Rissa was a little possessive of him, but she was one of the nicest girls at school.

"Love gets a little easier when you get older," Uncle Anton said. "Just look at me and Jamie."

I glared at him. "Are you comparing my crush on Shayna Porter to your long-distance Broadway girlfriend?"

Uncle Anton's textbook meet-cute for his current girlfriend, Jamie Skylar, was seemingly perfect. They'd met on the set of a small theater in New York City in a production of The Taming of the Shrew. Jamie was an up-and-coming star, and Uncle Anton had a minor part.

The director wanted to keep Jamie happy, so he assigned Uncle Anton to bring her coffee every day. One morning, he accidentally spilled her latte all over her white shirt. Instead of being mad, she had her first real conversation with him, which led to her asking him out to eat after the rehearsal.

"I could barely speak to Jamie when we met in New York five years ago," Uncle Anton said. "She'd already been in movies while I was another background actor. I was so nervous she had to ask me out."

"I don't think Shayna will be asking Jack out any time soon," Carson said. "See you tomorrow at school, dude."

He slapped me on the back and walked out to his car. When the door shut behind him, I realized everyone else had already slipped out, and only Uncle Anton remained.

Uncle Anton smiled. "Hang in there. You'll work things out with Shayna. And about your father...."

A chill ran down my spine. Glancing around, I had to be sure everyone was really gone. I'd told Uncle Anton before that we shouldn't discuss this at the theater. I had enough problems with Dad, and the stage was my escape for a short time each day.

"Thanks for the support," I said. "Not so much for sending me home early."

"Does Maddy have another late soccer practice?" Uncle Anton asked. "I can pick her up if you want."

I generally was the wheels to my three younger sisters' busy social calendar. It wasn't bad, so I didn't mind. I didn't want the girls spending too much time with Dad. Mom was bedridden in the hospital, and Lilly was still several months off from being able to drive. The more things the girls had to do, the less time they spent at home.

It was bad enough that Lilly had to give up volleyball after she broke her arm. I failed her at that moment. Now, the least I could do was make sure Mary and Maddy got to their after-school activities.

"No, she's getting a ride home from her coach," I said. "I have to pick up Mary from her babysitting gig later."

"Your mom called earlier today," Uncle Anton said. "Her head wasn't aching, and she said she felt better."

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. There were no new messages from Mom. No news was always good news in her case. With her debilitating cancer diagnosis, the doctors usually only called when she got sicker.

"I'll call her later," I said. "I'll head home and check on Lilly. I don't know how long it will take for her arm to heal."

"I can call the doctor and see if she can take a look at her arm again," Uncle Anton said. "I know things are heavy, and you don't like to discuss what's going on at home, but please don't hide things from me. I'm on your side."

I took a deep breath. "I know. Thank you."

"We can stop at Sully's on your way home," Uncle Anton said. "How does that sound?"

I smiled. Lilly would be ecstatic if we brought home cheese curly fries. My uncle jingled his keys, and I grabbed my backpack.

With the lights out and the theater door firmly secured, Uncle Anton and I got into my jeep and left our theater sanctuary to drive back into the real world.