A Song for the Season

by Kellen Hertz

  So why was he shutting me out now?

  I looked around. It was almost noon, and the lobby was nearly empty. Besides Logan and me, there were a few travelers looking at their phones, but that was it. Despite the cheery holiday decorations, the place felt lonely.

  We had been gone for only a day, but all of a sudden, I really missed my friends. I wonder what Jaya and Holliday are doing right now, I thought. Probably something fun. My heart sank a little.

  I sat up, trying to shake off my melancholy. Pulling out my phone, I took a photo of the lobby and sent it to my friends.

  Guys! This is our hotel in Knoxville!

  I waited for an excited response, but no one answered, so I typed another text.

  More pix to come! How are you doing?

  I stared at my phone. I thought for sure that someone would text back immediately, but my phone stayed silent.

  When nobody had texted back a few minutes later, I was officially antsy. I wished it was time to head to the Knoxville library now, but we didn’t have to leave for another half hour. I glanced at Logan again, who was still staring at his phone. I only lasted about thirty seconds until I jumped to my feet.

  “Let’s do something fun,” I said decisively to Logan.

  He squinted at me, pulling off his headphones. “Like what?”

  “I have no idea,” I replied. “But I bet we can figure something out.”

  I made a face and Logan laughed despite himself. Then I gave him my biggest, brightest smile. I wasn’t sure why Logan was in such a funk, but I was determined to pull him out of it. I yanked him to his feet before he could protest.

  “Okay, fine,” Logan relented. “Let’s go have fun.”

  As we circled the large lobby looking for something to do, I texted my dad to let him know that we were going to explore the hotel. We found a pair of automatic massage chairs and tried sitting in them, but it wasn’t relaxing at all. Instead, it felt like someone was dragging bumpy carrots up and down my back. I pressed a different button and my chair started vibrating so strongly I thought I would be shaken out of my seat.

  “Gonna be mys-e-e-e-elf, nobody e-e-e-else!” I sang, my voice quivering. “Gonna reach the sky-y-y-y if I only try-y-y-y!”

  Logan laughed so hard his face turned red. “You sound like a robot!”

  I pressed the OFF button and giggled. “Maybe we should bring these chairs to our show at the library!” I joked.

  He scrunched his nose, and then smiled earnestly. “This was fun,” he said. “Thanks for getting me off the couch.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Logan started to say something, then hesitated. His face looked just like it had when he showed up at our hotel room door last night. I waited for him to try again, but he just stared at his shoes.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk when you came by yesterday,” I offered, trying to coax him to open up.

  Logan’s cheeks turned beet red, like I’d caught him making a mistake.

  “What? Oh, that’s fine,” he said uneasily.

  “Logan, is everything okay?” I asked, taking a more direct approach.

  He looked up at me, but before he could say anything we heard Dad calling our names. A second later, Dad rounded the corner, out of breath.

  “There you are!” he said. He checked his watch. “The van’s all packed up. We need to get going or you’ll be late for your show!”

  Logan hopped up eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go!” he said.

  I stood up, disappointed that Logan and I hadn’t been able to finish our conversation. But I shook it off as we hustled to the van—we had a show to play!

  It took only a few minutes to drive to downtown Knoxville, but my heart was already jitterbugging with anticipation when we pulled up to the main library.

  “Let’s check out the space and then get set up,” Zane said, looking at his watch.

  As I unbuckled my seat belt and looked up at the blocky cement building, I suddenly felt a little nervous. Keep your head in the game, I reminded myself. Your next show could be your best show! Chilly air hit my face as I stepped out of the van, excitement tingling through me. I couldn’t wait to get inside the library and start warming up. I grabbed my guitar, hurried up the front steps, went through the glass doors … and stopped cold.

  The lobby was full of people. Not just people, children. An entire busload of eight-year-olds—dressed identically in red-and-green uniforms—talking and fidgeting and looking overwhelmed as they struggled onto a wide set of risers under a banner reading WELCOME EASTERN TENNESSEE CHILDREN’S CHOIR!

  Logan and I glanced at each other, then at Dad and Zane. They looked as confused as I felt.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Let me go find out,” Zane said, and went to the front desk. Dad squeezed my shoulder reassuringly and followed behind him.

  I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, and turned around.

  A trio of girls stood in front of me. They all had the same sandy-colored hair and wide, awed expressions, and so I figured they must be sisters.

  “You’re Tenney Grant!” the youngest sister said breathlessly. She looked like she was around Aubrey’s age.

  “Um … yes?” I said, so surprised that my answer came out sounding like a question.

  “And you’re Logan?!” the middle girl said without missing a beat.

  “Yeah,” Logan said warily.

  “Wow!” the middle girl said triumphantly, with an excited little hop.

  “I’m Emily Hayden, and these are my sisters, Sophie and Corinne,” the oldest girl said. “We watched the video of y’all performing ‘Reach the Sky’ with Belle Starr about a thousand times, so when we heard you were playing in Knoxville, we just got so excited—”

  “Our mom drove us all the way from Russellville to see you!” the littlest one, Corinne, blurted.

  “We’re just so excited to see y’all,” Emily said over her.

  “And to hear you perform in person,” finished Sophie.

  They bobbed their heads at us, beaming, and I smiled back. Knowing they’d taken a special trip to see us made me want to play the best show ever for them.

  “Wow! Nice to meet you!” I said. At least, I tried to say that, but the children’s choir had started vocalizing, drowning me out.

  “Are you playing with the choir?” Emily asked.

  Logan and I exchanged an uncertain look.

  “We don’t really know!” I admitted.

  Dad and Zane appeared on the far side of the lobby, talking to a tiny woman with a big clipboard. The moment I saw Zane’s face, I could tell something was wrong. I’d never seen him so serious before. We told the Hayden sisters we’d be right back.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, worried. Zane looked from Logan to me and back, like he was trying to pick his words carefully.

  “Apparently,” he said at last, “you’re not scheduled to play today.”

  “What?” Logan and I said at the same time, loud enough to make the Hayden sisters look over at us.

  “I’ll let Mrs. Colvin explain,” Zane said, gesturing to the woman beside him, who wore big glasses and a mortified expression. “She’s the managing librarian.”

  “Y-yes, well, we are just so sorry about this,” stammered Mrs. Colvin. “The director of our music series had to leave town due to a family emergency a while ago, and we’ve been trying to pick up the pieces, but everyone’s been so busy with the holidays …” She trailed off, her face darkening into the color of a ripe beet. “When we rearranged the concert schedule a few weeks ago, it appears that we accidentally double-booked.”

  “That is how it appears,” Dad said coolly.

  I twisted my hair nervously. The director of the children’s choir came over to us. As all the adults started discussing what to do about the situation, my gaze drifted over to the sisters. They were talking to other people, but kept looking in our direction excitedly.

  Finally, I found my voice. “People ca
me to see us,” I said. “They expect us to play. I don’t want to let them down.”

  “Neither do I,” Logan agreed.

  The children’s choir director, a Latino man in a candy-cane-striped bow tie, gave us a sympathetic smile. “How about this?” he suggested. “Our kids have been rehearsing for six weeks, so we can’t give you our whole show slot. But you could play a few songs with us at the end.”

  “Really?” Zane said.

  “Absolutely,” the choir director said with a firm nod.

  I managed a smile back, but inside I was still struggling. Judging from Logan’s expression, I could tell he was, too. This was supposed to be the second show of our tour, and once again, we weren’t going to be able to play a whole set.

  “I know this isn’t what we expected, guys, but the alternative is no concert at all,” Zane told us quietly, like he could read our minds.

  “I know,” I said. I turned to the choir director. “Thank you for being so generous,” I told him.

  “Of course,” he said simply. “That’s the spirit of the season, after all.”

  For the next ten minutes, we all worked together to figure out which songs Logan and I could perform with the choir. There wasn’t any room for Logan’s drum set in the space, but he could play his guitar.

  When it was time for the show to begin almost all the chairs set up for the audience were taken. Mrs. Colvin added four extra chairs to the front row for Logan, Zane, Dad, and me. We sat down just as the choir director stepped up in front of the risers and raised his hands to quiet the squealing children. They responded quickly, looking forward and hushing anyone who was still chattering. A pianist played a short intro and the children began to sing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

  They were overflowing with enthusiasm and holiday cheer, and my spirits couldn’t help but lift as I watched them perform song after song. By the time we were supposed to join them onstage, my hands hurt from clapping so hard.

  “Now we’d like to welcome up some special guests,” said the choir director. “Tenney Grant and Logan Everett!”

  Logan and I brought up our guitars in front of the choir as the children squealed with surprise.

  “Cool!” said a little boy in the choir, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Logan’s guitar.

  First, we sang “Winter Wonderland” with the choir. Then Logan and I played “Jingle Bells” and the kids sang along at the chorus. Since we hadn’t had time to rehearse with them, it wasn’t perfect, but we sounded pretty good, and I was glad that the Tenney & Logan fans who’d shown up got to hear us play.

  When we finished, we got a round of applause and a bunch of hugs from some of the choir kids and our fans. But no one was more excited than the Hayden sisters. They bought an EP and got Zane to take a bunch of photos of all of us together.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” I said gratefully, between snaps. I felt bad that they’d made a special trip just to hear us play two songs.

  “We loved it! You guys were so good!” Emily said, beaming. “I just wish you could have played more.”

  “If you guys aren’t busy tomorrow, they’re playing a whole set at the civic auditorium in Kingsport,” Zane chimed in.

  Sophie’s face lit up. “Really?! That’s pretty close to us!” she said, yanking Emily’s arm. “We should ask Mom if we can go!”

  “Maybe,” Emily said, but she looked uncertain.

  “How about I give y’all some free tickets?” Zane suggested. “For you three and your mom, as our way of thanking you for coming out today.”

  Emily and Sophie looked surprised and happy, and Corinne whooped in excitement.

  “NO WAY!” she yelled, hopping up and down, and threw herself around Zane’s legs.

  “I’ll take that to mean you’re interested in the tickets,” he said, laughing.

  Corinne squealed, and we all laughed.

  “Please come,” I said. I wanted the Haydens to get to see a real Tenney & Logan concert.

  “We’ll definitely try to make it,” Emily replied, beaming.

  “Well, I’d say that ended up being a lot of fun, against all odds,” Dad said as Zane started the engine.

  “That’s life on tour,” Zane offered. “Nothing ever happens the way you expect.”

  “It would be so great if the Haydens came to the show tomorrow, right?” I said to Logan, who was looking out the window.

  “Sure,” Logan said flatly.

  “Logan, they’re our fans!” I chided. “Can you at least pretend you’re excited?”

  He threw me a sharp look.

  Annoyance stung me, but I stifled it. I had no idea why Logan was suddenly in such a grumpy mood, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my excitement. I turned my thoughts to tomorrow’s show in Kingsport.

  “The auditorium in Kingsport’s pretty big, right?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Dad said.

  “They can fit up to eight hundred people inside,” Zane added.

  “Wow,” I said. Logan and I had played for a bigger crowd at Belle’s concert … but imagine if that many people showed up to our show! I turned to Logan. “We need to be really on point tomorrow. Every song needs to rock.”

  Logan didn’t say anything. He was staring at his phone like I wasn’t even in the van. My annoyance ignited into full-on irritation.

  “Did you hear what I said?” I asked, an edge creeping into my voice.

  “Of course I did,” Logan snapped. “You don’t need to talk about how good the shows need to be, Tenney. I get it. I just want to get on with the tour.”

  I blinked hard. I felt like Logan had just told me to shut up. My feelings were hurt, but I just rolled my eyes and turned my back on him.

  Dad and Zane exchanged a concerned look.

  “Take it down a notch, y’all,” Dad told us gently.

  “Right,” Zane said in his laid-back way. “No need to fuss about something until there’s something to fuss about.”

  I shrugged, making sure to ignore Logan. I got out my headphones and found some music on my phone, then put on a song loud enough to drown out the angry hurt I was feeling.

  I don’t know what Logan’s problem is, I thought. But from now on, I’m just going to focus on playing the best music I can … with or without him.

  Just outside Kingsport, we stopped for dinner at a barbecue restaurant, a squat brick building with a live honky-tonk band and air that smelled of hickory smoke. The food and the music were both great, but it was hard to enjoy them because I was still so annoyed with Logan. He didn’t say much during the meal beyond asking our server for the Wi-Fi password. Mostly, he checked his phone and stuffed his face as if he was in an eating contest.

  It was dusk when we reached our hotel. When I opened up the van door, I gasped. The chilly evening breeze had morphed into an ugly, freezing wind. It blew into the van so fiercely that I worried we might blow away like leaves, even though I knew better. By the time I stepped into the revolving door, I felt like I was made of ice.

  A festive Christmas tree glittered in the lobby, alongside a table stocked with hot cider and cookies. It was toasty and cozy, and I was glad to be there and not in the van with grumpy Logan, who was now huddled on the lobby couch with his eyes glued to his cell phone.

  I checked my own phone and noticed that I’d received a few texts from Jaya.

  We miss you!! read the first one. She’d attached a selfie of her and Holliday making pouty “sad” faces to the camera.

  But we are trying to survive, read the next text. This time, the photo was of Jaya and Holliday drinking hot chocolates and grinning with whipped cream mustaches. I had to laugh.

  There were more photos. Jaya and Holliday at the mall. Jaya and Holliday posing in front of the gigantic Christmas tree at Centennial Park. Jaya and Holliday wearing matching elf hats, laughing. Each picture made me smile, but it also made me wish I was home.

  Looks super fun! I wrote back, but my heart felt heavy. I miss you guys, too. />
  I sent the text and waited for Jaya to write back, but my phone stayed quiet. Sitting there, with my guitar case at my feet, I felt a long pang of homesickness.

  I squinted at my guitar case, trying to think of what I could do to take my mind off missing home. Maybe we could go bowling! I thought. I loved bowling with Dad. Grabbing my guitar, I stood up and headed over to where Dad and Zane were waiting to check in. As I reached them, I caught a snippet of their conversation.

  “… and I don’t think they’re handling the road too well,” Zane was saying.

  Dad nodded. “They get under each other’s skin. And being on tour seems to be making things worse.”

  I froze, realizing they were talking about me and Logan.

  Zane shook his head. “I’m worried that whatever’s going on between the two of them offstage will follow them onstage. If that happens, I’ve gotta wonder if they’re really ready to make an album together,” Zane said, handing Dad a room key. “They could implode before we even start recording.”

  “I hear you,” Dad said, letting out a sigh.

  I hadn’t realized that the tension between me and Logan was worrying Zane so much. Had we already blown our chance to make a record without realizing it? Or was there still hope that Zane could change his mind? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I needed to talk to Logan about it now.

  I made a beeline for the couch, but Logan was gone. I spotted him clicking around on his phone by the elevators, the hood up on his winter coat. I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, startled. I saw a flash of his little brother’s face on his phone’s screen, and realized he was on a video call.

  Logan retreated, holding up his finger to show me he needed a minute. He turned away, lowered his voice, and kept talking. After a minute, I heard him say, “I’ll see you in a couple of days, I promise.”