His Dream Role Read Free Page B

what point did walking through the doors of the Hope Center become normal for her? “I don’t know.” She thought back and knew. It had been Alex. The girl had been only eight when she and her mother came to the shelter.
    Because she didn’t have her degree, Sam was told she was there to offer support not counseling. She could play with the children or aid with homework, help women with their résumés or filling out job applications. During a spur-of-the-moment art project with a few kids, Alex drew a picture and then blurted out that her mother’s boyfriend had molested her.
    Sam had frozen, knowing she wasn’t supposed to counsel the child, but Alex had looked up with her big brown eyes needing some reassurance. Sam simply said, “That was wrong and it wasn’t your fault.”
    Then she’d taken Alex to her supervisor and together with Alex’s mom, they got the details. Alex hadn’t told her mom out of fear of retribution from the boyfriend.
    â€œWhere did you just go?” Sam’s mom asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
    â€œI was thinking about when things changed for me at the Hope Center. It was actually a who. I helped a little girl and her mom. They had a terrible story and they trusted me to help.”
    Sam called a cab to get her back to the city. As she and her mom drank their tea, she filled her mom in on school and friends. Before long, the cab arrived.
    Her mom stood. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? It’s just a car. We could probably talk your dad into trading it for something less . . .”
    Sam shook her head. “It’s okay, Mom. I live near the el stop and there are always buses running. I can get anywhere I need to with very little hassle. The car is more trouble than it’s worth most of the time. Trying to find parking is horrible, and then there’s rush hour on the expressway.”
    â€œIf you’re sure.”
    â€œI am. This will be a good experience for all of us.” She made a scissor motion with her fingers. “Cut those apron strings a little.”
    Her mom smiled and pulled her into a hug. “You can try to cut away all you want, but I’m holding on.”
    â€œThanks.”
    The cab ride back to the city felt like it took forever. By the time she walked through her front door, she was exhausted. She collapsed on her couch with her laptop so she could study. Instead, she Googled “Doctor Who tenth doctor.” Cute. Dorky, but cute. Much like her actor friend. She immediately recognized the clothes she’d seen earlier in the day. His face was different, of course, but he’d nailed the costume.
    She wondered how he chose the characters to dress up as. And why? Even more important, what was his name?
    Her homework sat untouched as she started Netflix and searched for Doctor Who . Maybe watching might give her some insight into who this guy was.

    Free walked into his childhood home and yelled, “I’m home.”
    â€œWhat’s with the yelling?” his mom called from the living room.
    Free left his jacket in the foyer and walked into the living room, where his mother was entertaining some guests. Whoops. “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t know you had people over.”
    She rose from her seat and kissed his cheek. “You might be more aware of what happens around here if you visited more often. How are you?”
    â€œI’m fine. I wanted to drop off these.” He pulled the tickets for opening night from his pocket.
    â€œOh, lovely.” She turned to her friends. “My son, Humphrey, is starring in A Christmas Carol .”
    â€œI’m not starring. I’m Fred.”
    She poked his arm. “Still a major role. It’s not like you’re a caroler.”
    â€œThey couldn’t cast me as a caroler. I can’t sing for sh—anything.”
    His mom shot him a sharp look. Although Amelia Mitchell cursed on occasion, she