Chapter One Of all the punishments my parents could have chosen, I can''t believe they went with this one. "Riley," Mom says from the driver''s seat of our SUV, "I don''t want to see you sulking today. You brought this on yourself, and part of the agreement is that you''re going to have a good attitude." I sink farther into my seat, the memory of myself and my best friend, Hoshiko, in these very seats still strong in my mind. Only a few days ago we were blasting the original Broadway cast recording of Waitress, laughing and debating whether the actors would come out for autographs after the show. And now . "Are you sure we can''t rethink this, Mom?" "No." She glances at me and back at the road.

"I still don''t think you''re understanding what a dangerous decision you made Friday night. How are your father and I supposed to trust you at home alone after this?" Okay, it wasn''t the best decision to take Mom''s car without her permission while she was out of town on business. And yes, I drove multiple hours on the highway at night to get to Columbus, with Hoshiko . and without a driver''s license. But we didn''t get pulled over or get in an accident! In fact, you could argue that I should''ve driven faster because then I would''ve beaten Mom home and I wouldn''t be getting this lecture right now. I don''t think I''m going to use that argument on her any time soon, though. "But working at Dad''s store?" I whisper. She presses her lips together like she wants to sympathize but is fighting it.

"Your father suggested you spend the afternoons with him since I''m too busy at work to be home after school with you. It''s not my fault he''s so attached to this store of his." The tinge of bitterness when she mentions Dad''s store only adds to my frustration. Mom has never liked the store. It was one of the main reasons for their divorce, and I''ve always been firmly on Mom''s side about the whole thing. It never even occurred to me that she''d agree to have me work there as a punishment. I really figured Mom would understand about my love for musical theater outweighing my logical decision-making (and state driving laws). Where Sara Bareilles is concerned, there is no line I''m unwilling to cross.

I''m about to argue more when she pulls into the parking lot. We both sit for a second, taking in the store. It''s not a particularly pleasant sight, despite the blue skies and sunny September weather. His store is in a run-down shopping plaza in Scottsville, my rural Ohio hometown, which has more than its fair share of run-down plazas. Quite a few of the other storefronts here are empty, though there is a local pizza place next door, and some of the letters have fallen off the signage. It''s not inspiring me to be in a better mood. "Your father''s waiting," she says. I haven''t been in this parking lot since we drove by five years ago when Dad first scouted the location and they were still married.

A dark, sinking feeling falls over me as my feet hit the concrete. "Shannon." Dad nods to her as she steps onto the sidewalk. She nods back, though she keeps more of a distance than is strictly necessary. "Hey, Joel." They couldn''t be more different. Mom is as stylish as ever, with her blond hair pulled back in a low bun, wearing a blouse, wide-legged trousers, and heels that are too high for most people to pull off. Dad, on the other hand, has on ill-fitting jeans and a T-shirt with Deadpool riding a unicorn.

I have no idea what brought them together to begin with, but it certainly wasn''t a similarity in looks--or interests either. "And how''s my pumpkin?" Dad asks, his big smile reserved for me. Hesitantly, I walk over and give him a hug. "Hey, Dad." "Ready for your first day as the newest employee at Sword and Board Games?" He grins broadly at the idea, as if I''m joining him for summer camp instead of spending the next eight weeks working here as "probation," grounded from extracurriculars and friends. I can only grimace and stare at the cracked concrete sidewalk. "Sure you''re up for this?" Mom asks Dad, and juts her chin at me like I''m a convicted criminal ready to dig my way out of prison with a rusty spoon. "I''ve been trying to get Riley to come here for years.

I was hoping it wouldn''t take a rap sheet to make it happen, but I''ll take what I can get." I groan. "Okay, for the last time, I didn''t steal Mom''s car! I just . borrowed it for one evening. It was more like joyriding, not grand theft auto or something." "Are you certain about that?" Dad asks with a raised eyebrow. I am, actually. Hoshiko Googled it once we were on the highway and headed for the show.

"Well, you won''t be doing any joyriding for the next two months, young lady," Mom says with a shake of her head. "Or having much joy at all." "I''m choosing to think of this as a twisted type of blessing," Dad says, careful to look at me rather than at Mom. They almost never make eye contact. "I get to spend quality time with my daughter, and you can broaden your interests while you''re here." I sigh and hunch my shoulders. Half of me wants to kneel on this sidewalk next to the discarded napkins and cigarette butts and beg them to rethink this, but I bite my tongue. The other, rational half knows my punishment could''ve been worse.

But the thing is, I don''t want to spend more time with Dad, and I don''t want to work at his game store. For the past five years I''ve spent every other weekend at his apartment--watching TV, eating frozen pizza, and barely talking--and that''s all the bonding time I''m up for. He made his priorities known when he chose this store over Mom and me. He shouldn''t be allowed to have his cake and eat it too. But it''s clear that the time for debating this is over. "Well ." Mom rocks back on her heels. "Have a good first shift.

I''ll be back at nine to pick you up." I wave goodbye and try to keep a neutral expression as I follow Dad to the entrance. In the grand scheme of things, eight weeks is nothing. A blip in time. And luckily, preparations for our high school''s annual spring musical won''t start until late fall, so--if I''m on my best behavior and win back their trust these next few months--I should be ready to earn my place as the show''s student director before Starbucks stops selling PSLs. "Here we are!" Dad says loudly, making me jump. I peek over his shoulder. The store is dim and quiet, though it''s bigger than I thought it would be.

It kind of looks like a hole-in-the-wall from the outside, but the interior is actually spacious . or it would be if it wasn''t absolutely crammed with stuff. There''s a long checkout counter to the left that''s up on a platform, maybe so the employees can see the entire floor. The rest of the space is filled with wooden shelving units. They don''t look professional, so maybe Dad built them himself. I vaguely recognize some of the games, like Warhammer, from Dad''s apartment. There are tons of D&D manuals and figurines, boxes of Pokémon and Magic cards, and displays of brushes and paints in every color for the tabletop game models Dad loves to collect. I try to conjure a smile on my face, but I''m struggling.

For years, Dad''s been asking me to come to this store. He''s obsessed with gaming. Board games, role-playing games, video games, it doesn''t matter. I don''t mind a round of Monopoly during the holidays, but that''s about as far as my interest goes. Over the years, it''s led to lots of frustration and disappointment for both him and me. Dad walks me through the store, pointing to all the products and telling me a bit about each. I''m dizzy from it. How am I supposed to learn all this stuff? What if someone comes in asking me for a board game? He doesn''t exactly sell Candy Land here.

"Hey, Joel? Which of these would you recommend for a twelve-year-old?" calls a skinny man in his late twenties from across the store. "Forbidden Island or Ticket to Ride?" He holds up two board games I''ve never seen before and gestures for my dad to join him and a middle-aged woman who stands next to him. A little boy, probably no older than five, is with her. The woman looks as bewildered by the shelves as I do. "Just a sec, Riley," Dad says, and walks over. I shove my hands in my pockets and follow behind. "Well, Forbidden Island is great if you like cooperative play, but if you''re looking for something more competitive, I''d recommend the other." The woman nods, but I recognize that expression.

It''s the same one I make when Dad spouts off facts about 40K armies. "Um, what do you mean by cooperative?" she asks. Dad and the younger man share the slightest of looks before Dad launches into an explanation. In her concentration, she''s let go of her son''s hand and he wanders away. I take a few steps in his direction. There''s merchandise precariously stacked on the shelves, and a little kid could do a lot of damage very quickly. I''m not interested in reshelving on my first day here. "Pikachu!" he cries, and grabs a box of cards sitting on the checkout counter.

I step up to him, not sure what I''m supposed to do but knowing that I need to do something. He stares at me. "You''re bright." I look down at myself. Today''s OOTD isn''t even one of my bolder styles--I was mostly going for comfort after a rough few days. I''m wearing orange jeans with a cobalt-blue ruffled shirt, chunky jewelry, and my.