All These Lives by Sarah Wylie Read Free Book Online

something tofu-related and a glass of cranberry juice in front of her. She manages to look both miserable on account of herself and skeptical on account of me and my enthusiasm.
    She’s wearing an old violet beanie, her favorite one, and an oversized blue hoodie. From what I can tell, she’s had a decent day.
    I turn back to Mom. “So what else did they say?”
    “Well, the callback is this Saturday. They’ll let us know about the actual filming depending on how callbacks go. Jena, you’ve barely touched your food!”
    I’m glad that the attention is momentarily off me as my sister tries to convince Mom that yes, she’s fine and no, she doesn’t feel sick and she just doesn’t feel like eating . I will her to say it feistily, like she means it.
    But the sound of a fork unhappily scraping a plate reminds me that the Jena I know is too sleepy to come out and someone, something, has taken her place, pretending to be my sister and not doing a very convincing job. Why do we let her get away with it?
    At dinner, when Dad gets home, we talk a lot about the commercial. It’s only the three of us because Jena’s taking a nap, but Mom’s excitement is enough to fill a fourth place just for tonight.
    Dad beams and tries not to say straight out that he had a role in this success. Mom talks about other “opportunities for us” that she’s come across lately.
    “I’ve just been so scatterbrained that I haven’t made any phone calls or set up anything yet.”
    “Honey, I can call if you want.”
    She considers this for a second. “No, it’s probably better if I call. Besides, with you filling in as Danielle’s manager, this is the least I can do to feel like I’m even part of her budding career,” Mom jokes. Except it’s not totally a joke. She wishes she was doing auditions, not radiation.
    “Please,” Dad answers modestly. “All I did was take her to one audition … although I did feel confident that she had it in the bag. Didn’t I tell you?”
    My mother used to be in musicals before she met my father. All sorts of theater productions and acting gigs—one of which, apparently, led to her becoming bosom buddies with Brody Richardson. After busting her knee during a matinee of My Fair Lady , she had to take a final bow of sorts. At the time, of course, it was only supposed to be temporary. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with a big-hearted dork from New Jersey (my dad) and get knocked up—with twins.
    So you could say her heart never really left the stage. And that’s where I come in.
    Some people say I seem like a natural actress, but that could easily be that thing that happens when you’ve been told you’re one thing your entire life so you become it. Or maybe I am.
    All I know is that, through no fault of my own, my mother and I have always been eerily similar—the acting, the near-deaths—while she and Jena were pretty much opposites.

10
    “The history of math. That’s such a broad topic,” Jack says. Halbrook has relocated math class to the library on Tuesday so we can start working on our assignments.
    From his seat beside me, Jack stares at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I pull out the end of the yellow pencil from between my upper and lower molars. “Sorry. Was this yours?”
    He doesn’t take the pencil I’m holding out, and I eventually place it on the desk, where it leaves a print of saliva and Danielle germs.
    “I don’t even know where to start,” Jack says, and I’m a little surprised to note that his voice is slightly deeper than I’d thought. “It’s so ambiguous.”
    I nod thoughtfully, opening up my notebook. “Well, I worried that you’d overthink this assignment—no offense. So I took matters into my own hands.” I pull out a pile of printed papers.
    Jack lifts the first sheet and stares at it for a long time.
    “I Googled ‘math.’” I beam at him. “I think we’re set.”
    He lowers the piece of paper. “I’m not sure this is what he