Sunkissed

by Kasie West

  “Oh, right.” How could I have forgotten that?

  She held up crossed fingers. “But maybe Mom and Dad will say yes to you singing and then I can do a new one, on you…right?”

  The arguments I’d been practicing all week with my sister about why my parents should let me sing suddenly sounded nonsensical and unconvincing. And a documentary starring me sounded even more ridiculous. “Do you think that would be interesting?”

  A knock on our door was followed by Mom opening it. “You girls wanted to chat?” she said.

  The pasta we’d had for dinner seemed to turn over in my stomach.

  Lauren and I both stood, somberly. I grabbed the letter I’d written so I could remember everything I needed to say and we joined our parents in the living room. The expressions on their faces didn’t look any softer than they had a week ago despite all the quality family time we’d been having.

  “Well, girls,” Dad said when we sat on the couch. “You are officially free.”

  “But there’s a twist,” Lauren said in an operatic voice.

  I didn’t think her joking was going to help in this moment, so I held up the letter. “Can I read you something?” I asked, looking at Mom, then Dad.

  They exchanged their own look but Mom said, “Yes, go ahead.”

  I cleared my throat. “Mom, Dad…”

  “Countrymen,” Lauren said.

  “Lauren, please,” I pleaded.

  “Wait, just wait,” Lauren said. “I have something we should all watch first.”

  “What?” I said, dumbfounded.

  She held up her laptop, which I hadn’t realized she’d been hugging to her chest.

  “Lauren, do you have to do this right now?” I asked, shaking the letter.

  “Believe me, I do.”

  I sighed and Dad nodded the go-ahead. She put the laptop on the ottoman and forced us all to squeeze onto the couch so we could see better. Then she pushed play.

  Some footage of the band came on the screen from one of the nights before Ian got hurt. I wasn’t sure Lauren showing my parents the half-finished band documentary would change their minds about me singing, but maybe it would help them get to know the guys better, which was actually a good idea.

  The music rang out of the small speakers of her computer.

  Just when I thought the video was going to cut to an interview with Kai or Ian, the camera panned over to me, sitting there, listening to the band play. I had the biggest smile on my face as I watched. The video zoomed closer and closer to my face and that look of happiness. When the song was over, the me on the computer screen clasped her hands together in a giddy gesture. I hadn’t realized I’d done that at all.

  Then the video faded and a phone screen filled the picture. I remembered when Lauren had grabbed my phone earlier in the summer and had recorded a video of her scrolling through one of my playlists. “Do you know how many songs you have on here?” she asked on the video.

  “No,” I’d said. “A lot.”

  “More than one person could listen to if they listened to music every day for a thousand years.”

  “Too bad most of them aren’t downloaded.” I’d made a face at that. “Can I have my phone back?”

  She flipped the camera to her own face and whispered, “Avery loves music. It’s a sickness. Someone get this girl help.”

  That day, I’d been too busy exiting out of the screens she’d opened on my phone to actually hear what she’d been saying to her phone.

  The next cut was to a scene of me lying on my bed and staring at the love song lyrics I’d been working on. I was repeating lines over and over and then mumbling, “No, that’s not quite right. What would be better? Hark? No, park…missed my…mark!” I’d looked over at Lauren. “Dark and mark! It was so obvious.”

  “Sure was,” Lauren had said.

  Screen me nodded absentmindedly and scribbled the words on the page.

  Another cut and I was sitting on my bed cross-legged, holding a different paper in my hand, practicing what I wanted to say to our parents tonight. I hadn’t realized she was recording.

  “Mom, Dad, I have been holed up in my room a lot of this week, causing me to have clarity on many issues.”

  “Did you really use my ‘holed up’ suggestion?” Lauren asked.

  Screen me turned the paper toward her and pointed.

  “I thought you’d replace it with some of your fancy words.”

  “No, I liked it. Now stop interrupting.”

  She tilted the camera slightly so the view was on her and she rolled her eyes at the camera. “Fine, keep going, then.”

  Screen Me went on. “I am not arguing the fact that I definitely should’ve had consequences for my actions.”

  “And Lauren shouldn’t have had any,” video Lauren whispered.

  “Do you want me to add that?”

  “No, everyone already knows it.”

  “I understand that lying leads to losing your trust. I hope that by being completely honest now, I might gain some of it back.”

  “They’re going to like that part,” Lauren said.

  “I’m not saying it because I think they’re going to like it. I really do believe that,” Screen Me said.

  “I know, I know,” Lauren said. “Continue.”

  “Several weeks ago, Dad, you mentioned offhand to a perfect stranger how amazing and creative Lauren was and how bright and exciting her future looked. In basically the next breath, you called me laid-back and predictable. Ever since then, I’ve been on a journey, of sorts, to discover something exciting within me. So when this opportunity to sing for a festival arrived, I felt everything was pushing me to do it.”

  I glanced over at my dad, who was watching the video intently, and his eyes looked sad.

  Screen Me continued. “I hadn’t intended to lie when this all started. I genuinely thought that I’d sing and realize I couldn’t do this at all, just like all the other things I’ve been trying for the last several weeks. But then I did…and I enjoyed it…and it felt too late to come clean.”

  “Come clean makes it sound worse than it is,” Lauren said on the video. “Mom and Dad are easily led. Pick the right words.”

  Lauren, on the couch next to me, coughed. “I meant to edit that part out,” she whispered.

  Dad chuckled a little and for the first time since I sat down, a little hope blossomed in my chest. I enjoyed hope.

  “And so,” Screen Me continued, “I am begging you that I might be able to sing at this festival with someone who has helped me see that I’m not boring and predictable.”

  Lauren kept recording as I gave a fake bow.

  “What do you think?” Screen Me asked.

  “I can make it work.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Go shower.”

  I’d left the room and Lauren pointed the camera at herself. “I mean, no wonder she’s everyone’s favorite.”

  The video cut back to band practice. This time I was looking up, thinking. Brooks had his notebook out and everyone onstage was staring at me. “You want me to play your game, but won’t teach me all the rules,” Screen Me said. It was the lyric I had offered that night. I remembered being nervous about it, feeling self-conscious. Onscreen, as the guys gave positive feedback, the video zoomed in closer and closer to my face. Finally I broke into a smile, which then became a still image and faded to black.

  Everyone was silent for at least ten seconds. Then my sister closed the laptop. I looked at her and said, “Wow, Lauren, you are really good at that. No wonder you have six thousand subscribers.”

  Her cheeks went pink. “Thank you.”

  Mom stood, gestured toward the bedroom with her head, and Dad followed.

  “You are totally going to get to sing at the festiva
l,” Lauren said with a happy clap.

  I hoped she was right. And if she was, it was all because of her. I leaned over and gave her a crushing hug. “Thank you.”

  Lauren and I walked through camp hand in hand. Free! No more being grounded, no more worrying about my parents turning in the guys. Mom and Dad agreed that I could sing in the festival and do whatever I needed to do in the next week to prepare for that. And that’s where we were headed now, to tell Brooks we needed to resume band practice. We only had one week to get everything perfect!

  “Avery!” I heard from behind me. I turned to see Maricela waving.

  I pulled Lauren to a halt as Maricela collided with me in a hug.

  “I missed you this week. Brooks told me you’ve been grounded!” she said. “How did they find out?”

  “Well….”

  “You can tell her,” Lauren said. “I was a jealous tattletale.”

  “No, it’s fine. It all worked out.”

  “So where are you going now?”

  “To talk to Brooks.” I couldn’t wait to see him. It felt like forever.

  “You’re heading the wrong way,” she said.

  I pointed up the hill toward the employee cabins. “He’s not up there?”

  “No…” She tilted her head, like I should already know what she was about to say. “He’s in the lodge…for band practice.”

  “Oh! Perfect!” I’d told him I would be grounded for a week. It was exactly a week. Maybe he was setting things up for a final sign. When I walked in the door tonight and he saw me, he’d know once and for all that hope wasn’t dead.

  I swung Lauren and I around and as we walked away, I called back to Maricela, “You’re still going to the festival, right?”

  “Yes!” she said.

  “Avery, you’re going to rip my arm out of its socket,” Lauren said as we continued down the path. “I know you’re excited to see your boyfriend, but you need to calm down.”

  I loosened my grip on her. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Technicalities.”

  “By the way, when we get back to internet,” I said, “I’m going to watch every single one of your videos.”

  “That’s days’ and days’ worth. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you the ones to skip. I might completely delete my seventh-grade year. Eighth grade has a really crappy few months in the middle…” She continued to give me a rundown until we reached the lodge.

  D was behind the desk, and if she was surprised to see us, she didn’t act like it. She just smiled. Almost too big.

  I thought maybe it was all in my head until Lauren said under her breath, “That was weird. Since when is she ever happy to see us?”

  I just waved; I was too excited to read into anything D did tonight. We reached the doors to the theater and I swung one open.

  Music was already playing, drifting down the aisles and between the seats and filling the whole air. I was happy we were adding the drums and bass to the song; it would make it bigger for the bigger venue.

  It took me too long to realize there was a voice mixed in with the music as well. A voice I recognized.

  Lauren gave a little squeal next to me. “Ian?”

  The lit stage displayed the band members perfectly, each in their designated spots: Kai on drums, Levi on bass, Brooks on guitar, and Ian behind the microphone.

  A big smile took over Lauren’s face. Then she seemed to realize what I’d realized the second I saw him—I’d been replaced—and her smile faded.

  I stopped, going still, and watched as Ian leaned into the microphone, perfectly steady on his feet, and sang “Rewriting History,” our audition song. He sounded good.

  “Let’s go find out what’s going on,” Lauren said.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “But they can’t do that to you,” she said.

  “Ian was in the band first.”

  I didn’t know if we were talking too loud or someone just finally saw us, but the music stopped in a sporadic waning—guitar first, then Ian’s voice, and finally the bass and drums.

  Kai raised both hands in the air. “Hi!”

  We walked forward. I wasn’t brave enough to look at Brooks yet; if I did, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

  “You’re back?” Lauren asked Ian as we walked up the stairs.

  He reached a hand up to his forehead, where his stitches had been. There was now a thin, dark pink line. “Not back, back.”

  As I started to take a relieved breath, he said, “Just back to sing for the festival.”

  And just like that, any last bit of hope I’d been holding on to vanished. Hope was for suckers.

  “What do you mean?” Lauren said, and I grabbed her hand and squeezed.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “This is perfect. Lauren already has great footage of you guys. She can pick up where she left off.” After having seen what an amazing job she’d done on the video for the parents, I knew she could make this band documentary something special. And since I hadn’t been honest with her, she had nothing of my singing journey. But she had tons of footage of Ian. She deserved this. It had been her idea from the beginning. “Did you bring your phone?” I asked Lauren.

  She nodded but was busy studying my face. Probably trying to see if I was sincere. I was.

  “Avery.” That was Brooks.

  I steadied my breathing and turned toward him, putting a smile on. “Hi.” He looked so handsome. I’d missed him.

  “You’re ungrounded?” He was trying to get his guitar off but seemed tangled in the strap somehow. Finally, he shook his arm in frustration and broke free. He set his guitar down and walked closer.

  “Yes, we have been released,” I said, smiling at Lauren.

  “Who knew being forced to hang out with parents all week in an internet-free environment would be such torture?” Lauren said.

  “I think everyone knows that,” Kai said.

  Lauren laughed. “Whatever.”

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Brooks asked me, nodding toward the curtains and back room. Kai’s brows shot down.

  “Yeah, sure.” We walked, and once behind the curtain, Brooks grabbed my hand. In the room, with the door shut, he pulled me into a hug.

  “Hi,” he said against my neck.

  I smiled, then kissed his cheek. “Hi.”

  When we separated, I noticed we were standing by the box of T-shirts. I pulled one out. “Bear Heads,” I said, noting the picture of a poorly drawn bear on the front. “That should be your band name.” I pointed to the number on the ear. “Two Thousand Bear Heads. Has this box of shirts really been sitting here since the year 2000?”

  He took the T-shirt from me and tossed it back into the box.

  “You obviously don’t like that idea?” I teased.

  “Avery, talk to me. What happened? What are your parents going to do?”

  “Don’t worry, they aren’t going to tell Janelle,” I said.

  “That’s good. But…” He looked up and then shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are they going to do? Are you even allowed to be here?”

  “Yes, they know I’m here.”

  “Wait…” He raked his hand through his hair. “They weren’t going to…Were they going to let you sing?”

  Were. He said the word were. “My sister made this video that totally won them over. It was pretty great. So…yeah…they were…but Ian’s back, so I get it. How did that happen?” My eyes started to sting. I looked up at the chandelier for a moment to keep my emotions in check.

  He paced in front of me. “You said the chance that they’d give you permission was low.”

  “I know. Exactly.” I had said that.

  “And you got so sick after performing last time, I thought you were just doing it for me. I felt guilty. Then Ian called and
said he was better and I told him about the festival and how we were screwed…again…and he said he could come. I thought it must be…”

  “A sign?” I said. Signs were really starting to get on my nerves.

  “Yes.”

  I found myself nodding.

  He groaned. “This is a mess. Ian moved back up here. Janelle is even letting him stay in the cabin with us, which is so unlike her.”

  “It’s obviously meant to be.”

  “No, I mean, I thought so at first, but no.” He looked so worried and torn as he walked back and forth in front of me.

  “Brooks, come here.” I grabbed his hand as he passed and pulled him close. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Ian will do great. He sounded amazing just now. Plus, he has experience. You’re right, I’d probably choke in front of hundreds of people at a festival. I could barely handle five. This is obviously how it was supposed to happen.”

  He put his forehead to my shoulder and didn’t deny anything I’d just said. “You think so?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to convince both of us.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t be. I will be perfectly happy in the audience screaming and lip-syncing with those hundreds of people. I’ll be the proud girlfriend.”

  “Was that your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?” For the first time, I could hear the smile in his voice.

  My cheeks went red but still I said confidently, “Yes, yes, it was.” Because I liked this boy. I liked him a lot.

  He wrapped both arms tight around my waist. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  My cheeks hurt from smiling so big. He leaned down and kissed me while shuffling us toward the couch. I fell back, sitting first, and then he was next to me, our lips hardly separating with the change of elevation.

  “I should probably,” he said between kisses, “go back out.”

  “Yes…” I could kiss him forever. “Oh!” I pulled back and freed the page of lyrics from my pocket, handing it to him.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “The song. I added the second verse.”

  “Oh.” He read over the words and his smile softened to a look of genuine emotion. “Avery…I…this is so good.”