“Not as much as I was hoping, I’ll admit,” Luca told her apologetically. He was surprised to find her smiling back at him as if she knew something he didn’t. “What?”
“Well, if Eddie heard glass break, that means we can rule out any of the staff. Why would they break in if they have keys?” Luca’s eyes widened. He hadn’t considered that. “You can thank the 3M podcast for that particularly spicy kernel of intel,” she added with a nervous laugh.
Something in Luca’s chest unfurled when Lyric smiled, but he shoved it down into an invisible mental box. As they continued to walk, Luca thought about Lyric’s reaction to the artwork. Yes, it made sense for her to be upset, but it just seemed like a bigger deal than it probably should have been.
“Aside from this ceramics thing, is everything okay?” he asked Lyric, feeling bold. “You’re not your usual self, and you haven’t been since before this happened.” Lyric attempted a brave smile, and in response he made himself appear unimpressed. “Obviously something happened,” he goaded gently, and Lyric sighed, her breath mixing with the gusts of summery wind.
“Let’s just say I’d be surprised if my parents’ marriage survived another year,” Lyric confessed, the words leaking out of her like air from a balloon.
“Really? Wow. I know you said before that things were bad, but I guess I didn’t realize how bad. How are you coping?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure that I am.” For the first time in what felt like forever, Lyric was able to be honest about her feelings without worrying about how someone else would react.
“Can’t say I blame you. Now, I’d be thrilled if my mom finally kicked my dad out, but I’m pretty sure I’m like one percent of people who feel that way.”
“Probably more like two percent,” Lyric teased, smiling with her head bowed. He wanted to lean over and tilt her head up so that their gazes would meet, but that action felt far too intimate, so he chickened out. So, he settled for holding and squeezing her hand instead.
“We’ll figure this out,” Luca told her, trying to be positive.
“I know. I’m glad I have you on my side.” Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and Luca smiled earnestly.
“Right back at ya.”
Days passed like the pages of a book; June folded into July, and then it was time for Claymoor’s Annual Summer Bash and Block Party. Despite being small, the town was built like a spiderweb. It started in the center with the statue of Jacob Claymoor and continued outward into the different neighborhoods. The center of the bash was always the residential side of town, so that was where Luca and Lyric met up.
Everything from lemonade stands to dunk tanks had been set up throughout town. People of all ages packed the streets, some that Lyric recognized, some she didn’t. There was even a small circus tent in the central courtyard, but nobody knew what it was for. A sign on the tent’s entrance said that all would be revealed after sundown, so everyone just had to be patient. Lyric had a feeling she knew what it was, but she didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s fun by spilling the beans.
“I keep forgetting that this will be your first summer bash,” Lyric told Luca as they strolled through the hubbub. “It’s like you’ve always been here.” He wore a distressed navy-blue T-shirt with white stars and red swim shorts. Really showing off that American pride. Lyric had warned him early on that between the water balloon fights and sprinklers, wearing a swimsuit was better than normal party clothes. For her part, she wore ripped shorts and a tankini with a beach coverup to protect against sunburn.
“What can I say? I’m a memorable guy.” Luca winked, and Lyric rolled her eyes.
“Who are you, again?” a new voice asked, and Luca grinned when Carrie came walking up behind them. Lyric couldn’t help but feel intimidated by Carrie, especially knowing that she and Luca had just broken up after being together for two and a half years.
Unfairly beautiful, Luca’s ex had a heart-shaped face and curly red hair accompanied by a fair complexion and button nose. Luca must’ve extended the same advice to her about a swimsuit, because she wore ripped shorts and a cheetah-spot bikini top, clearly more confident than Lyric could ever pull off. Why am I so hung up on when they broke up? I blame Rhythm and Cadence for putting it into my head.
“Lyric, this is Carrie Sanderson;, ginger extraordinaire, smartass, and—”
“If anything but ‘best friend ever’ isn’t the last thing out of your mouth, Luca William Sherwood, I’ll make sure you regret it. Don’t forget: I know where you sleep.” Carrie cut him off, sticking her hand out for Lyric to shake. She did so, marveling at how soft the redhead’s skin was compared to hers, which were constantly dried out by clay.
“Oh, you pulled out the middle name. I’m so scared.” Luca laughed teasingly.
“You should be. Everyone knows the middle name is serious.”
“Is that why your dad calls you Caroline Louise so often?”
“No, that’s because he has a microdick,” Carrie returned, and Luca snorted. “Not that I want to talk about my dad’s genitalia, but you have to admit, he does have small-dick energy.”
“Oh? And what kind of energy do I have?” He seemed to realize a half a second later that his words had come out flirtatiously, but Carrie just went with the flow.
“I plead the fifth,” she said. She pleads the fifth because she knows what his looks like, Lyric’s mind supplied unhelpfully. Carrie put a hand on Lyric’s shoulder, bringing her back to the conversation. “Luca told me about what happened to your artwork. I’m so sorry. That must’ve sucked.”
Lyric opened her mouth to reply, but her foot got caught under a wayward extension cord, and she stumbled forward. She braced herself to hit concrete, but Luca latched his hand around her arm, keeping her upright. Carrie continued walking, oblivious to Lyric’s near-blunder. At least she didn’t see me almost eat pavement.
“Careful,” he murmured against her ear, not letting go until she was steady again. Lyric’s face might as well have been on fire for how hot she felt, embarrassment scorching her worse than any sunburn she’d ever had.
“Hey, Luca! I dare you to get in the dunk tank!” Carrie called from ahead of them, somehow managing to be heard over the thudding music.
“You’re on!” Luca jogged over, and Lyric caught her breath for a moment before joining them at the dunk tank.
“One dollar for four chances to dunk your friend!” the host, who Lyric vaguely recognized as a teacher at Claymoor Elementary, called into the crowd of people. “Proceeds go to charity!” Carrie reached into her pocket and gave the host a single, jerking her head toward the ladder on the side. Luca smirked, took his phone from his pocket, gave it to Lyric for safekeeping, and then took off his shirt, throwing it at Carrie. As he was getting seated on the collapsible chair inside, Carrie made a disgusted sound but put the shirt over her shoulder.
“Let’s split it,” Carrie said to Lyric. “You get two chances, and I get two. One of us is bound to be strong enough to win.”
“I’m going to take a nap while you two decide on your strategy!” Luca cajoled, and Carrie flipped him off, causing him to throw his head back and laugh. Still, he let his head fall to the side, closing his eyes and issuing cartoonish snoring sounds.
“Let’s take turns too,” Lyric suggested. “Keep him on the edge of his seat—literally.”
“Ooh, I like the way you think!” said Carrie.
Lyric went first, lobbing the softball at the target with all her might. It sailed over the switch and into the cloth background.
From his spot in the tank, Luca snorted, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Stop thinking about the fact that he’s shirtless! Lyric thought, standing back so Carrie could have her turn. Carrie did hit the target, but not hard enough to dunk Luca.
“Come on, Sanderson, put your back into it!” he goaded.
“Sounds like you want to go for a swim, Sherwood!” she shot back, turning to wink at Lyric. “You got this,” she added confidentl
y. Lyric thought back to what she’d done wrong the first time around, adjusted for it, and threw the ball.
It hit the target in the center, and Luca went into the water with an emphatic splash. He came up for air a few seconds later, and Carrie put both hands up for high fives. Lyric clapped their hands together and laughed when Luca climbed out, shaking his head like a dog.
“Stop acting like Daisy!” Carrie told him, and offered him his shirt. He slipped it over his head and offered his fist to Lyric so she could bump it.
“Thanks for the refreshing dip, Meadows,” Luca said, and Lyric stuck her tongue out at him. Once again, he laughed like she had made a hilarious joke, shook his head, and started jumping to get water out of his ears.
“Who else is hungry?” inquired Carrie, ignoring Luca’s lame attempt at a joke. The three made their way over to the food tent, where family recipes of all kinds were on display. Each year, there was an informal contest concerning whose food was the best, and it was decided solely by the people’s vote. The winner got bragging rights and an ego boost but not much more than that. Still, it never got overly competitive. The townspeople had all grown up together and didn’t waste their time over petty disagreements.
He’d known that a town-wide party was going to be packed with people, but did they have to be so loud? He could hear the music through his headphones, could feel the vibrations in his desk, and the longer it went on, the more aggravated he became. His bicep itched uncomfortably as if sensing his annoyance and choosing to add to it.
It’s healing. I know that, but I kind of want there to be a scar. I could come up with a cool backstory for it rather than what I actually did. The same guilt that he’d felt all along swept over him like a riptide. He stood up so harshly his desk chair rolled away from the desk and hit his bed with a thump. I did what I did. What’s the point of feeling guilty about it? He’d been asking himself that question since he’d done what he did, and apparently, he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.
Chapter Seven
“I’ll go ahead and grab some funnel cakes for dessert,” Lyric offered once they’d finished their actual meals. She carved her path through the throng and left Carrie and Luca to themselves for the time being. They sat across from each other at one of the many wooden picnic tables that had been moved from the park to the streets for the bash.
“So . . . ,” Carrie said to Luca, who watched the other girl go. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Hey, Romeo! I’m talking to you.” He turned back to her as if in a daze but shook himself out of it when he saw her expression. Carrie raised an eyebrow at him, saying everything without speaking a word. “It’s not like that,” he immediately denied. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Carrot. We’ve only been broken up for, like, a week or two.” He broke eye contact, as if ashamed of his behavior, and Carrie had already had enough of his theatrics.
“Are you done?” she asked. Luca cocked his head at her, perplexed. “Don’t treat me like an idiot, Sherwood. You used to look at me that way, and I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, I’m just stating a fact.” She reached over to squeeze his hand for a moment. “Whoever said that exes can’t be friends is an idiot. As long as she isn’t a rebound, you have my blessing.”
“Then you have mine to date Rider.” Carrie’s eyes widened, and she blushed, breaking eye contact. “That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That I’ll be upset if you want to be with him?”
“Partially, yeah,” Carrie admitted. Luca stared at her expectantly. “He told me he loved me.”
“Really?” Rider’s not usually that forthcoming with his feelings, but I’ve been wrong before. “And what did you say back?”
“I didn’t say anything! He was asleep when he said it, so I’m not even sure if it counts. I just . . . What will our parents say? What will the press say?”
“Screw ‘em. What we do and who we do it with isn’t their business.” Lyric came back then, holding a massive platter of funnel cake for the three of them to share.
Later, the three of them wandered toward the carnivalesque tent and found that the curtain was open—which made sense, as the sun had started its descent just a few minutes prior. Lyric peered inside and tried not to groan. I wish that this town wasn’t so predictable and that I could be wrong about it just once.
“Come one, come all! Claymoor’s Got Talent is open for anyone who dares!” another Claymoor teacher that Lyric couldn’t remember the name of called from center stage, really leaning in to the role of ringmaster.
“I wonder if that’s why they kept it a secret. Comcast would be pissed if they knew we stole their copyrighted name,” Lyric commented, and Luca snickered.
“We didn’t steal it, we’re just . . . borrowing it,” he replied, and Lyric raised an eyebrow at him. “We fully intend to give it back, after all,” he added, and she shook her head. “Loopholes are a politician’s specialty.”
“You’re not a politician, though.”
“I’m the son of one, so that’s close enough.”
“Are you two going to talk all night or what? C’mon, let’s get seats up front!” Carrie interrupted before Lyric could respond, not that she knew what she was going to say.
“Why are you so jazzed about this?” Luca asked Carrie, who smirked.
“C’mon, Sherwood, that’s an easy one. I love watching people make fools of themselves!”
And make fools of themselves people did. Several of Lyric’s neighbors made attempts at juggling, ventriloquism, and anything else they could think of on short notice. To her surprise, Lyric wasn’t feeling much secondhand embarrassment for her fellow Claymoorians; rather, she laughed with them when they messed up their routines, which was often, especially due to the various beverages that had been offered throughout the day. Things stopped being funny, though, when the host came onstage one last time and made an announcement that rocked Lyric’s world.
Eventually, he cracked. He couldn’t stand being inside a moment longer, especially once the sun went down and the water games ended. He couldn’t have anyone asking questions about the gash on his arm. Coincidentally, the secret show had begun under the carnival tent, and he couldn’t deny his curiosity any longer. He made his way through the streets he’d come to know so well and snuck in through a back entrance. He didn’t want to risk being identified. He’d worked so hard to keep that a secret, he wasn’t going to risk everything now.
“It wouldn’t be a Claymoor show without a Meadows family performance stealing the spotlight at the very end, so we’ve arranged to have Charles Meadows’s children perform tonight for the first time in several years. Give it up for Lyric, Cadence, and Rhythm Meadows!”
Lyric’s mouth dropped open as the spotlight shone on her directly. Is this some kind of prank? Better question: Did Cadence and Rhythm know about this?! She shot looks to both Luca and Carrie for help, but they just made shooing motions, grinning encouragingly, apparently working against her. Did Dad set this up? Why? What could he possibly have to gain from forcing us to perform, especially after so long?
“Come now, don’t keep the audience waiting! Folks, let’s cheer them on!” The host lifted his hands into the air, encouraging the crowd to make a ruckus.
Lyric got to her feet, uneasily making her way to the stage stairs. The spotlight insistently followed her the whole way, which only served to make her feel like the sun itself had grown a consciousness and was singling her out. “Ah ah, there are the other two pieces of the puzzle! Folks, let’s welcome Rhythm and Cadence!” The spotlight split in two directions, aiming right at her sister and brother, who had come into the tent just a few seconds prior. Each of them shared a look of complete befuddlement. When they came together, Cadence was the first to speak what they were all thinking:
“What the hell is this?”
“I think a better question is what the hell are we going to perform?” Rhythm cut in.
“You’re right, that is a better question,” Cadence agreed,
and Lyric stared between them, mouth agape. “Leer? You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay! Did you guys know about this?”
“It’s called going with the flow!” Rhythm crossed his arms over his chest. “If you were around more, we might have included you on the plans!”
“So, you did know!”
“Hate to break up your little sibling discussion here, but we promised the crowd a performance, so . . . ,” the host interrupted, gesturing to the audience.
“Where the hell do you get off? We didn’t agree to this!” Lyric’s face filled with blotchy red spots, fists clenched at her sides as if she was trying not to deck the host.
“You . . . didn’t?” The host actually looked guilty, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. “We were told that you did—”
“Well, you were obviously lied to!” Lyric burst out. “We haven’t performed together—or apart—in years. We don’t even have a song ready! Never mind Cadence’s and Rhythm’s instruments!”
“Well, we actually have a guitar and a drum set ready for them. We just didn’t realize that you weren’t in on it.”
“Guys, wait.” Cadence pointed into the crowd. “Look. It’s Mom and . . . and Dad. They’re holding hands.”
“What the hell is going on?” demanded Lyric once their parents got close enough. Chuck wore a proud smile, but there was something distinctly off about it. The apparent pride didn’t reach his eyes, and Elena looked like she wanted to pull her hand away but was afraid to do so.
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