Redeem

by Rachel Schurig

  “Shit!” Cash yells. “It’s a trap!”

  He grabs my hand and we’re running, plowing through the underbrush. I’m terrified and laughing at the same time, trying to keep up, while Cash tugs on my hand. Just when we reach the edge of the lawn a figure jumps out at us.

  “Reed!” Cash yells. “The hell?”

  Reed smacks a hand on each of our shoulders. “Got you!”

  “You’re a hunter,” Cash reminds him.

  “Naw, she caught me after like, two seconds. I’m the ghost now—actually, you’re the ghosts.”

  I press a hand to my chest, willing my heart to slow down. “That was you yelling?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes dancing with laughter. “That was Paige. She thought she could draw you out.”

  “Well it worked,” Cash mutters. “Shit was terrifying.”

  “Well, now you have to catch the rest of the hunters. Lennon and I got separated so it’s just him out there and Daisy and Daltrey.”

  I peer toward the deck, wondering if Daisy and Daltrey are still under there. Cash follows my gaze, his eyes narrowing. He puts a finger over his mouth and then makes some complicated hand motions that I can’t really decipher but I figure the long and short of it is that we’re going to split up and corner them.

  I sneak along the tree line to the left, watching Cash do the same in the opposite direction. When we’re both positioned to cut off their escape, Cash lets out a howl and charges the deck. I hear Daisy scream—or was it Daltrey?—and then they’re both running out from under the deck. Cash tags Daltrey easily but Daisy darts around his outstretched arm.

  “Hey!” Daltrey calls after her. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

  “Every man for himself, babe,” she yells back, running hard toward the deck—right in the direction of my hiding spot. “Got you!”

  “You deserved that, you know,” Daltrey tells her firmly.

  “Okay, so it’s just Lennon left,” Reed says, scanning the woods. “Daisy, you’re the ghost now—”

  A high-pitched scream rents the air and we all turn to the path. After a split second of silence Lennon comes thundering down the path, screaming again, and suddenly I’m laughing hysterically, his face is so genuinely terrified and that scream sounds so girly. Paige is running behind him, keeping up pretty good. Daisy makes a move to intercept him but Reed grabs her arm. “Let her do it.”

  Just before he reaches the deck Paige lunges, slapping his back. “Got you!”

  Lennon collapses onto the first step, looking around wild-eyed. “She jumped out of a tree. She was in a tree! How in the hell did you do that?”

  I can’t stop laughing. He looks so freaked out and there’s a big part of me that’s still freaked out and it all seems so funny and scary at the same time.

  “Okay, Paige,” I say, putting a hand on Cash’s shoulder so I can bend, trying to get my breath back. “You’re right. This game is awesome.”

  Everyone else is laughing too, except for Lennon, who still seems to be trying to get his shit together. Paige puts a hand on his shoulder. “Just like tag, huh?”

  He holds up his hands in surrender. “You know something, Paige? You scare the hell out of me.”

  She grins, as if it was the best compliment he could have given her, before turning to the rest of us. “Okay, who’s it now?”

  ***

  We play Ghost in the Graveyard for a good hour and a half, only giving up when we’re all too cold to stand it any longer. It’s one of the best times I can remember having, that hour and a half of running through the woods, hiding in the shadows, waiting for someone to jump out and scare the crap out of me. When was the last time I did something like this, something silly just for the sake of silly? I mean, Wyatt and I played games all the time, of course, but when was the last time I hung out with people my own age and just had fun? Not getting drunk, not hanging out in a bar, not desperately trying to seduce some stranger. Just plain old fun. It feels great.

  Back inside Lennon starts a fire in the fireplace while Reed goes to the kitchen to bring out bags of chips and more beer. I collapse onto the couch, reaching for one of the throws, and am only a little surprised when Paige plops down right next to me, pulling the side of my blanket up over her own legs.

  “It’s so cold!” she squeals.

  I nod in agreement, not really sure how to match her level of enthusiasm at the most obvious observation.

  “So.” She leans in a little closer, her eyes sparkling. “What’s up with you and Cash?”

  “Paige!” Daisy snaps, pausing in the act of walking past us to the kitchen to frown at her friend. “Don’t be pushy.”

  “Oh, I’m not being pushy,” Paige says, grabbing Daisy’s arm and pulling her down on the couch between us. “I’m just curious. Here, Dais, scooch under the blanket, it’s freezing.”

  Daisy joins us under the blanket, shooting me a sympathetic look. I glance over to see that Cash and Daltrey have joined Lennon at the fire, both giving conflicting instructions on how he could be doing it much better. I turn back to Paige, who’s eyeing me expectantly. “Well?”

  “We’re friends,” I say automatically.

  She rolls her eyes and Daisy pokes her in the knee under the blanket. “See? Just like I told you.”

  “I’m sorry, but you do realize how crazy that sounds, right?”

  “Why?”

  They share a quick glance and Daisy leans toward me. “Cash just doesn’t really, um, do the whole friends thing. Not with the opposite sex.”

  I shrug. “I don’t really either. But that’s what we’re doing.”

  I can tell that they both want to grill me—Paige’s eyes are practically bugging out of her head—but they’re trying to restrain themselves. “Really,” I assure them. “Just friends. Things are pretty complicated in my life right now. And Cash is cool with that.”

  “Because of your son?”

  “Paige!” This time I’m pretty sure Daisy smacks her. “She barely knows you! You don’t need to be grilling her about Wyatt.”

  “I’m sorry,” Paige says sincerely, rubbing her knee. “I just, you know, I’m always like this.”

  I have zero problems believing that, I think.

  “Yes, Wyatt makes things more complicated. I have to keep my focus on him. And there’s school, I’m really close to graduation.” I sigh, my eyes darting back to Cash. Now he’s laughing at whatever Lennon is attempting to do with the fire, and I can see the younger brother’s neck getting red from here. “It’s just not a good time for me to get into some big thing with a guy.” I pause. “Especially not that guy.”

  “Because he’s a man-whore,” Paige surmises, and Daisy smacks her again.

  I don’t know if I should laugh or be annoyed by her pressing. “Um, yeah, I guess.”

  “I’ve been telling him forever to knock that off.” Daisy shakes her head. “I keep wondering when he’ll outgrow it.”

  I look away, not able to trust my face. She knows him pretty well—does that mean she doesn’t think he’s there yet? And why do I care, anyhow? Man-whore or not, he’s just supposed to be a friend.

  “I think maybe he has,” Paige says, her voice soft. My eyes shoot to her face and she’s watching me, an almost sad smile on her face. “He seems different than the last time I saw him.”

  “He does?” I can hear the eager note in my voice and I force myself to look away.

  “He does. Like, he didn’t even ask me about Karen.” She gives Daisy a meaningful look.

  “Who’s Karen?”

  “My best friend. And Cash always flirts with her, like every time he sees her. And when he sees just me he always asks me about her and gives me that stupid little smirk of his.” She rolls her eyes. “But not that this time.”

  Two emotions seem to be doing battle in my chest—a strange kind of pride that Cash hasn’t asked about this Karen person and a sick storm of jealousy that he ever did in the past.

  What the
hell? I ask myself, surprised by the reaction. Why would you be jealous?

  “Oh my God,” Paige says, reaching across Daisy to grab my hand and I curse myself for being shitty at hiding my emotions. “That was really bad to bring up, wasn’t it? I’m sorry—I meant it as a good thing! He’s clearly not thinking about other girls, that’s all I meant.”

  “It’s okay.” I extract my hand from hers. “Like I said, we’re just friends.”

  Daisy is watching me closely, her face unreadable.

  “Well, I think he likes you,” Paige says. “I really do.”

  I squirm, feeling that same little flare of pride that other people might think he cares about me.

  “This is making you totally uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Daisy asks. “Paige, knock it off now, okay?”

  “Okay,” Paige says, her eyes darting across the room. I see a little smirk light up her features before she turns away and I follow her gaze.

  Cash is watching us—watching me—a smile on his face. I shoot him a smile back without thinking, and then realize that Daisy is still watching me and I turn away, feeling unsettled.

  “Okay, new topic,” Daisy says. “Paige, how’s school?”

  Paige groans. “Oh, God. I brought so much homework with me. I can’t be done soon enough, I swear.”

  “Don’t you have that paper to finish this week?” Cash asks me, appearing in front of us. “Paige, Sam is in her senior year at WSU.” Is that a hint of pride in his voice? And why does that make me so happy?”

  “You are?” Paige asks, reaching for my hand. “Oh, maybe we can study together. I was so bummed that I had to bring work with me.”

  “Definitely,” I tell her, though I can’t really imagine her settling down long enough to actually study.

  “What’s your paper on?”

  “It’s a proposal, actually.” Immediately, I feel that shot of nerves that always accompanies the thought of the project. “For my senior project. I need to have it approved by my advisor.”

  “What’s your project on?” Paige asks.

  I sigh. “I’m still not sure.”

  Cash frowns at me. “You’re not? I thought you decided on the grant proposal?”

  I fidget with the blanket. “I don’t know. I’ve talked to three girls in my class who are doing something similar. It feels so generic now.” I turn back to Paige. “I’m trying to get an internship at this amazing charity organization in Seattle next year. Hero’s Hero. They work with children and families of veterans and they tackle the whole problem—emotional, financial, physical health. They’re totally reimagining the way charities should be run, it’s really different. And the list of applicants for the internship is crazy long.”

  “So you need your senior project to be totally awesome so they’ll pick you for the internship,” she says wisely.

  “Exactly.”

  She scrunches up her face like she’s thinking hard. “I don’t know. I guess grant proposals are pretty important for charity organizations, but I think you’re right about it being generic.”

  Cash plops to the floor in front of us, sitting cross-legged on the rug. “We should brainstorm,” he says. “You still have a whole week to get the proposal together, right?”

  I nod, feeling slightly confused by the interest they’re both showing in this.

  “My foundation relies on grants just a little,” Daisy says. She pulls her knees up under the blanket, resting her head on them, her face thoughtful. “Mostly we do a lot of fundraisers.”

  “Oh my God,” Cash says, slapping his forehead. “I’m such an idiot—Sam, I totally forgot to tell you about Daisy’s charity.” He shakes his head. “You’re studying to run a foundation like this and I don’t even put two and two together. I’m a moron, seriously.”

  I hold up a hand to stop his self-recrimination and turn to Daisy. “You have a foundation?”

  She nods, looking a little shy. “I was bullied really bad in school. So Daltrey and I set up a charity to help other kids, primarily with social media stuff. We’ve had a few setbacks in getting it going, but it’s doing pretty well now.”

  “That’s amazing!” Immediately I want to start picking her brain about the running of the foundation, the day-to-day details. I can’t believe I have a resource like this at my fingertips—

  “I’ve got it!” Paige yells, so loudly Lennon and Reed glance over from the still-not lit fire. She ignores them, tugging at Daisy’s arm. “Remember that benefit concert we held? When you were getting started?”

  Daisy nods, looking confused for a second before her face lights up. “You’re right, Paige!”

  “What?” Cash asks, looking between them. “What about it?”

  “That’s what you should do for your senior project,” Daisy says, sounding almost as excited as Paige. “You should hold a benefit.”

  I look back and forth between their excited faces. “I’m not really…I wouldn’t even know where to start with something like that.”

  “We could help you,” Paige says. “Daisy has tons of experience putting together that concert—”

  “I had a lot of help.”

  “And so will Sam! We can all help. And that will show her professors how good she is at managing a team.”

  “I don’t know—”

  But they’re both talking a mile a minute, bouncing ideas off of each other. “Maybe like, a concert?” Paige suggests. “Like you guys did before? Ransom could play and I bet we convince the label to send some other bands. It would be great PR.”

  “So, she would sell tickets, that would be the bulk of the fund raising?” Daisy asks, nodding. “And we could have a silent auction, we’ve done that before. It’s a lot of work to get the donations but that can bring in tons of money.”

  “You guys,” I interrupt, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m not sure about this.”

  They both stop, staring at me. “Why not?”

  “I just…it seems like a lot. I don’t know if I could pull it off.”

  “Well,” Paige says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s why we would help you.”

  “You guys are busy—”

  “I’m not busy,” Daisy says. “I spend half my life looking after these man-children. I would love to have a project.”

  “And I can help with the media kit because I’m totally awesome at graphic design,” Paige says matter-of-factly.

  “And we could help you get items for the auction,” Cash says, looking up at me expectantly. “And use our press contacts to get the word out.”

  I shake my head, completely overwhelmed. “Why?” I blurt out. “Why would you want to do all that?”

  Paige looks at me like she doesn’t understand the question. “Why not?”

  Because you barely know me, I think. Because you have lives and school and all kinds of things going on. And because I don’t deserve this, not at all.

  “It’s a really good cause,” Daisy says seriously. “I mean, it’s never a bad thing to raise money for a good cause, right? And if we can help you ace the project and get that internship, well, that’s all the more reason to do it.”

  I have to look away, sure I’m going to cry. I can’t remember a time when I came across people so willing to help me—not since the Warners. Ever since Doug left I’ve been trying to do everything myself, trying to keep it all together, worried that if I took help from anyone I would never be able to prove myself.

  It’s like I didn’t realize until this moment how exhausting that was, not letting anyone help.

  Cash nudges my foot with his and I look down. His expression is serious, kind. “You should do this, Sam. This could be really good.”

  I think of him in the library, telling me we could help each other. Telling me he needed a friend. Reaching out, maybe for the first time in his life, and letting someone in. Am I strong enough to do the same thing? As I look into his eyes, already so familiar to me, urging me to reach back, I nod.

  “I think
you’re right,” I say, turning back to the girls. “If you guys are serious about helping me, I would appreciate it so much.”

  “Of course!” Paige says, clapping her hands. “This is going to be so much fun!”

  “Absolutely,” Daisy says. “I think we can really raise some money for a good cause. I’m in.”

  I look back at Cash, grinning at me now, and I see that little flash of pride in his face again.

  And this time, I feel it, too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cash

  Our morning writing session is our best yet. We actually work all the way through lunch, which is basically unheard of. One of us is pretty much always hungry. But we’re clicking right now, bouncing ideas off of each other, adding to the notes and the lyrics of the others, building up on the skeletons of these songs until they feel full and complex. We haven’t done this well in months, not since our second album. I feel a little embarrassed, honestly, as I listen to my brothers attack the chorus of one of Reed’s songs—our initial effort, that demo that we sent to the label, was crap. They were right to demand we redo it. The difference between those songs and what we’re starting to build now is like night and day. As much as I hate to admit it, a lot of what was wrong with that demo was me. Reed had said the songs were shallow and flat and he was right—my songs were shallow and flat.

  Blake is even pleased, which freaks me out a little. Blake is never satisfied. But he called our dad and the guys at the label and it was decided that we were making so much progress we should extend our stay. A fact that made me pretty damn happy, if I’m honest about it.

  I try not to think about how relieved the news has made me as I say goodbye to my brothers and climb into my car. Since we skipped lunch I’m starving, but I don’t want to take the time to stop and eat. I have somewhere to be and I have no plans to be late.

  I pull up to the soccer field just as the kids are running out from the sidelines, a cluster of blue jersey boys opposite their yellow-clad counterparts. I climb out of the car, pulling my sunglasses down, and search for Wyatt. When I see him I bark out a laugh—his hair is heavily gelled in a faux hawk, the way I’d worn mine on our last tour. It can’t be a coincidence. I wonder what Sam thinks of this development.