Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

And I spun around, heading back down the stairwell.
People were priceless. The things we told ourselves to
justify giving up and falling in line like we had to accept
anything less than what we wanted. Like fighting for your
dream was a bad thing.
I would tour, and people would pay to watch me.
Heading into the ticket booth, I gathered up my school bag
and phone, and switched off the light, heading back into the
lobby and out the front doors. I called my driver to check if
she was almost here, but there was no answer, so I left a
voicemail. Since Arion was away studying abroad this
semester for college, and my parents had schedules to keep,
my mother arranged a car service in town to pick me up and
drop me off to and from work. It probably cost more than I
was making, but since our town didn’t have a public
transportation system, I couldn’t manage any other way. I tried
to give them my paychecks to cover the cost, but my mom
wouldn’t take it.
I stood out on the town sidewalk, hearing the cars drive by
and music coming from Sticks across the square, but I stayed
close to the theater doors, just to be on the safe side, until my
ride showed. The concession staff was still in there cleaning,
so I had help if I needed it.
“Hey, Winter,” someone said across the street. “Want a
ride?”
Sara. She’d worked the booth with me tonight, and trained
me when I started the job. She must just be leaving, too.
“Oh, no, I’m okay,” I told her. “My driver should be here
soon.”
“My driver…” someone repeated, chuckling.
I didn’t recognize the voice. Did I just sound pretentious?
“I can’t leave you standing there,” Sara joked. “Come on.
Cancel your car. We’ll take you.”
We?