by Kasie West
Ian seemed to consider this but then said, “I don’t think my parents would go for that. And I have no place to stay.”
Kai, who had been uncharacteristically silent, started tapping ever so lightly on the drums, over and over, like the buildup to some big announcement.
“But, Brooks,” Ian said, “you should still audition. You just need to find a replacement singer.” He looked around and ended up lowering himself onto a chair, obviously still dizzy.
“Oh yes,” Levi said sarcastically. “Because that’s easy.”
“Yes!” Lauren said, ignoring Levi’s sarcasm or maybe not hearing it at all. “This still needs to happen. There has to be someone else who can sing around here. We’ve already established Kai can’t.”
“Hey,” Kai said with a final clashing strike on his cymbals.
Lauren flashed him a smile. “Brooks? Levi? You don’t sing?”
“No,” Brooks said. Levi shook his head as well.
“What about you?” Levi said, staring at Lauren. “You could sing for us. You’re loud and fun and have lots of charisma.”
I sucked in my lips, waiting to hear what Lauren thought about that. Knowing her, she would probably jump at the chance even though we both knew she couldn’t sing to save her life.
She surprised me by saying, “If only I was given a singing voice to match my star power.”
Kai groaned. “This is so pointless.”
Even though Brooks was playing this all off like it was no big deal, out of the corner of my eye, I watched his jaw tighten.
“I’m sorry, guys, I know I said I could sing one last rehearsal with you, but I have to go.” Ian was cringing again as he reached for his backpack.
Lauren gave him a gentle hug. “Get better, okay?”
“Thanks.”
“Bye,” I said from afar, not really a hugger.
The band must’ve already said their goodbyes before we got there because they all just nodded. Brooks walked him all the way to the theater doors, probably worried about his balance, before Ian waved him off.
“Well,” Kai said, stretching his drumsticks into the air. “My nights just opened wide up.”
“Brooks didn’t say we’re done,” Levi said. “Maybe we really can find a replacement.”
“Brooks didn’t say we’re done?” Kai asked. “We have half a song and now half a band.”
Brooks climbed the stairs back onto the stage.
Kai twirled a drumstick. “Brooks, Levi says you have to call it or he won’t believe it.”
“Call what?” Brooks asked.
“The end of this band.”
“You’ve been ready to blow up this band from night one,” Levi said. “Maybe we should find two replacements.”
“You think a drummer is just going to walk in here off the streets? It’d be way easier to replace you. Who was that guy playing at the campfire the other night? He’d work.”
Lauren and I exchanged a wide-eyed look. I was surprised she hadn’t pulled out her phone yet to record. I just wanted to back down the stairs and leave.
“Kai, stop,” Brooks said, sounding tired.
“Really?” Kai said. “It’s me who needs to stop? Brooks, love you, brother, but I can’t work with him.”
“You can’t work with me?” Levi asked, voice raised. “I don’t know how anyone has ever worked with you.”
“Brooks and I have been in a band back home for two years now without any problems. Who’s the new factor in this equation? Oh, that’s right: you.”
“You’re impossible!” Levi shoved his guitar back into its case so hard that one of the strings snapped, producing a twanging sound. This just made Levi angrier. He slammed down the lid of the case and picked it up. “I’m over this,” he said as he stormed out.
Kai sputtered a laugh. “He’s so dramatic.”
“You do like to pick fights with him,” Brooks said.
Kai shrugged his big shoulder. “It’s not my fault he runs hot.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t help.”
“And neither did you, Brooks. You always just sit back and watch. You never step up.”
“I’m tired of stepping up. I’m not in charge here. Take care of your own self for once.” The words were sharp and heated and they hit their mark.
Kai blinked. His eyes found Lauren, then me, and he offered a smile. “That’s my cue, ladies.” He tucked his drumsticks into his pocket and bounded down the stairs.
Lauren ran after him.
Brooks went to his guitar case and dropped the pages from his pocket into it, followed by his guitar.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Sure, treating my best friend like garbage always puts me in a great mood.”
“I’m sorry.”
He sighed. “No, don’t be.”
“I get it, your whole band just imploded in one night.”
“Teaches me to ask for signs,” he said with a breathy laugh.
“You don’t have to fake it for me.”
He collapsed into a chair, put his elbows on his knees and his head down. “He’s right. I should’ve stepped up.”
I inched forward, the desire to comfort him, like up at the rock slides, taking over. This time I didn’t stop myself and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is your escape, right? You don’t want to have to be responsible for everyone here like you are back home.”
He seemed to still with my touch, his breaths becoming shallow intakes. One of his hands brushed the side of my leg and I wasn’t sure if it was by accident or on purpose, but every nerve ending in my body sprang to life.
A voice called out by the door, “Ugh. Kai is being so stupid!”
I jumped back, nearly tripping over my own feet to put some space between me and Brooks. Lauren was either too preoccupied to notice or she chose to ignore it because she continued, “How big does your band have to be to try out for the festival?”
“What?” Brooks asked. Was he as disoriented as I felt?
“How big does your band have to be to try out?” she repeated. “You have a song and you. All you really need is a singer at this point, right?”
“I don’t have time to find one,” Brooks said, standing. “We hardly had time as it was.”
“Avery can do it,” Lauren said with confidence.
“Excuse me?” I asked, my head whipping around toward her.
“You can. You sing all the time. In the shower and in the car and with your AirPods in. You love music. You should do it. And then maybe Kai and Levi will rejoin too.”
“No,” I said.
“Come on, Avery,” Lauren pleaded. “Try it.”
“No…just, no,” I said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t, Lauren. I can hardly say hi to your phone without freezing.”
Lauren crossed her arms with a huff. She didn’t care that the second I got on that stage I would crash and burn. That would probably make a better documentary, actually. She’d be rooting for some drama. Because that’s why she was pushing this—for her video. No other reason. Not for the guys, not for the music, and definitely not for me.
I met Brooks’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged an It’s okay.
Every bone in my body wanted to yell, Fine, I’ll do it. I knew that was only because I didn’t like seeing people unhappy. Especially people I cared about. But I would never be able to sing on a stage in front of a crowd and that was the only thought that kept my mouth firmly closed.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Lauren said as we walked back to the cabin after leaving Brooks with another apology. “Everyone, and I mean everyone, is counting on you.” By everyone she meant her.
“I’m not changing my mind.”
She clicked on her flashlight as we left the glow from the lodge. The nighttime sounds of camp echoed around us—crickets and distant squeals and laughter. “I thought you were trying new things,” she said. “Stepping out of your comfort zone.”
“I am. Just not this.” Her voice was rising, so I tried to keep mine calm.
“Oh, so you just meant you’d try fake new things that really didn’t push you at all—making vases and sliding down rocks and painting blobs.”
“Singing isn’t a new thing. I’ve tried it before.”
She whirled on me, stopping us both in our tracks. “Just step up and do something unpredictable for once in your life.”
“You only want me to do this for you, not for me.”
“Fine, I won’t make a documentary out of it. Will that change your mind?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.” With that, she marched ahead of me in a dust-kicking cloud of indignation, taking our flashlight with her.
I stopped in the middle of the path, the anger I’d been holding back coursing through my veins now. I pulled up the flashlight on my phone and turned in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to see her for a while. I wasn’t sure what stupid thing I’d say if I did.
Five minutes later, I found myself standing in front of the pay phone. Before I could talk myself out of it, I picked up the handle and dialed Shay’s number.
A monotone voice came through the earpiece. “The call you have made requires a coin deposit. Please hang up momentarily, listen for a dial tone, deposit coin, and dial your call again.”
“Deposit coin?” I hung up the phone and shone my light around. On the top was a small slot next to some weird lever. Beneath that a blue strip said .50. Another sticker with red letters said: Collect calls dial *11. What did that mean?
“Fifty cents.” I patted my shorts as if some money had magically teleported into my pockets. They were, of course, empty.
I glanced back down the trail. Lights shone from the employee cabins all along the path. I found myself walking to a porch and knocking on the door. It swung open and Tia stood there in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank.
“Avery,” she said. “Hi.”
“Hi, is Maricela here?”
“Hey, babe,” Maricela said from the background. “Come in.”
Tia opened the door wider and I stepped inside. Maricela cleared a space on the extra bed and I sat down. “What’s going on? You look like your dog just died.”
“No, I was trying to use the pay phone.”
“You need some quarters?”
I nodded.
“It also takes cards,” she said, walking to the dresser and opening the top drawer. She dug through it.
“I don’t have a card either,” I said.
Maricela walked over to me, change in her open palm. She picked up my hand and dropped four quarters into it.
“I only need two.”
“Most out-of-area calls take four.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah…” I took a deep breath. “Did you hear about Ian?”
“The concussion?” Maricela said. “Yes, that sucks.”
“He’s leaving.”
“He’s leaving?” Tia asked, surprised. “For how long?”
“For the rest of summer.”
“So no festival,” Maricela said, catching the implication right away. “Brooks must be torn up. He’s been going on about signs and how the stars all aligned for him this summer.”
“Yeah.” My stomach twisted with guilt again. I clenched my fists, the quarters pressing into my palms. This was not my problem to own. Why was I feeling guilty? “Anyway, thanks for the quarters.” I stood. “I better go make that call before it gets too late.”
“Okay, good luck with that.”
“Good night.”
Back at the pay phone, now that my anger had subsided to the less motivating emotion of frustration, I wasn’t sure I wanted to make this call. Why did I think talking to Shay would help anyway? Because she knew my sister and would talk me through this? Did being angry at my sister make me less angry at Shay? I pressed my back against the brick building and looked up at the sky.
The stars were exceptionally bright tonight, and it took me a while to realize it was because there was no moon. I stepped out from under the eve of the building and searched every inch of sky I could see through the dark trees.
My heart thudded twice in my chest and I ran back to Maricela’s cabin. The light was still on so I tried the handle. It gave and I flung open the door. Maricela was by the mirror on the wall, tucking her hair into a sleeping cap. Tia was sitting on her bed reading a book. They both looked at me in surprise.
“It’s a new moon!” was my only excuse.
A slow smile spread across Maricela’s face, and she dropped the sleeping cap on top of her open suitcase.
“What’s that mean?” Tia asked.
“It means we need to take a trip across the lake.”
* * *
The group was eerily quiet as we sat, knees touching in the circle. The water lapped against the shore behind us, where we’d left a couple canoes. Maricela had collected several people as we had made our way to the docks—Clay, Brooks, Kai, and Lucy, a girl I’d seen around but had never officially met.
There was still a marked tension between Kai and Brooks. They had come across the lake in separate canoes and now weren’t sitting by each other. Much to my disappointment, Brooks wasn’t sitting next to me either. I hoped that didn’t mean he was mad at me. I tried to catch his eye but his focus was on Maricela.
“Welcome,” she said from where she sat on my right.
Tia, on my left, giggled, then put her hand over her mouth to stop. I wondered if she was nervous. I found myself a little nervous, sitting in the dark, only a single flashlight pointing at Maricela’s face. She looked like a ghost.
She shot Tia a look, then continued. “For those of you who weren’t here last year, this is our moon circle. As you can see, there is no moon in the sky, which makes it a perfect time for renewal. Tonight is like a fresh start. Or just a time to think about what you really want and to remotivate yourself. Everyone hold hands.”
Kai was on Maricela’s right, and I watched him take her hand. I wondered if her speech had softened him. If he and Brooks would make up. Brooks was next to Tia and as I linked hands with her, so did he. I reminded myself that jealousy was not a good emotion to bring to a night of renewal.
“Now, everyone close your eyes,” Mari said, switching off the flashlight and then taking my hand.
It was so dark I almost didn’t need to close my eyes. I could barely make out my own crossed legs. But I closed them anyway.
“Let go of the things that are holding you back,” Maricela said. “And fill your mind only with the things that will take you forward.” She fell silent.
I tried to clear my mind, think about my future, college, teaching, like my mom. But all I could see was Lauren’s disappointed face when I’d said I couldn’t sing. And Brooks’s shrug when I’d said I was sorry. I tried to picture myself onstage, a microphone in hand, a crowd of people waiting, watching, and panic immediately gripped my chest.
Maricela squeezed my hand and I realized I was breathing fast. I relaxed my shoulders and shook away those thoughts. I needed to try something new tomorrow, I decided. Get back to my goal of discovering myself. Picture something new you can try, I told my brain. But I was left with only blackness. Brooks would help me think of something.
I froze.
Wait, Brooks wasn’t doing the festival anymore. I no longer needed to help him write a song. Did this mean our deal was off? He wouldn’t help me anymore either?
My eyes flew open t
o look at him, but I couldn’t see a thing.
Maricela let go of my hand and picked up her flashlight. “I hope the moon grants you everything you desire,” she said.
“I don’t trust the moon,” Kai said. “She’s shady.”
“Was that a pun?” I asked.
Tia giggled again next to me. Maricela playfully hit Kai’s arm and he laughed.
Clay, across the circle, said, “My wish right now is to get back across the lake without getting caught.”
Maricela, light pointed at her face, rolled her eyes. “None of you took this seriously. No wishes for any of you.” I could see the hint of a smile on her lips as she said it. “Let’s go.”
I climbed to my feet. And as the group dispersed, I took several quick steps, trying to see which shadowed form was Brooks, when Clay stepped up beside me.
He draped his arm across my shoulder in a friendly manner. “Need any more random experiences to answer obscure college essay questions?”
“You have no idea,” I said.
Maricela, who was now on the other side of Clay, said, much louder than necessary, “How about a late-night swim in the light of a new moon?”
“How about a late-night skinny-dip in a new moon?” Clay said with a laugh.
“Did someone say skinny-dip?” Kai asked.
My light was pointing ahead, so when Brooks glanced back, I could see his face clearly—a flash of hurt or disappointment or maybe something else entirely.
I shrugged Clay’s arm off my shoulder and quickened my pace, wanting to clarify that what just happened had nothing to do with Clay or Mari helping me to discover myself and was just a stupid joke. But Brooks stepped up to the canoe that already had Lucy and Tia inside and pushed it farther into the water. Then he climbed inside and they were off.
“Who’s ready for crazy Fourth of July week?” Mari said, stepping into the other canoe.
“Is it worse than normal?” Kai asked.
“Our highest occupancy rate of the year. And everyone seems to think celebrating their independence means demanding free things.”
Fourth of July. Was it already almost the Fourth?
“What did you ask the moon for?” Maricela said, taking the seat in front of mine.