Joy's Summer Love Playlist

by Piper Bee

  I don’t want vagueness to get me in trouble again.

  “We’ll finish the season together, right?” Jin asks me.

  “Yes! I’m not a Netflix cheater,” I say, kind of surprised by how easily it comes out.

  “Good to know, Joy. I’ll remember that for later.”

  ♫

  Lena’s shower is heaven. The water falls with just enough pressure, not the needle spray I get at home. Her iridescent tile makes me feel like I’m some kind of mermaid princess. When I’m good and done, I dry off with a fluffy, luxurious towel.

  I used Lena’s bluetooth speaker to listen to music and heard the text chime a couple times. I’m hoping it’s Cale with details for the Fourth. I wonder if I should invite him to watch The Walking Dead with us (since I’m absolutely positive it also wasn’t approved by his mom), but I hesitate before checking my phone.

  I kind of like that I have a thing with Jin. And I kind of like that I have a thing with Cale, too.

  I check my phone… it was Jin.

  JP: It really has been fun not being in Cabo :)

  JP: When should I come back over to finish TWD?

  I didn’t expect it would be him. Or that his words to send my mind spiraling into repeated visions of his perfect smile. A Jin Park tornado of happiness.

  I shake my damp head. What’s a good hour for a perfectly friendly friend to come over after I wake up? I’m almost settled on 11 when he messages me again.

  JP: How about a late dinner? Like 8?

  Wait, tonight? I bite the edge of my lip, kind of shocked at how badly I want to say “yes.”

  I was looking forward to spending my weekend with my waking hours heavy in the “alone” category, but I’m not peopled out. Or… not with Jin.

  There’s a sheer veil of worry on me about how Lena would take it if she knew that I spent more than half a day with Jin. But it’s not like it’s that different than Cale. Purely platonic.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and press send.

  JB: Sounds good :)

  ♫

  One episode in and I’m invested hard. Wrappers from the pitas that Jin drove out to get are crumpled on the coffee table. We’re both cozied up under very separate throw blankets on the couch. The huge TV screen fills the dark room with shifting light. OLED really does look better.

  Sweating heavily, the zombie-fighters on the screen argue against the background of singing cicadas. It feels like a Southern summer came in through the TV. My eyes start to betray me near the end of episode five. But I can’t stop! Jin was right; the suspense is the best part!

  In the final seconds of the episode, a door dramatically opens for the dirt-covered characters. I jolt awake at the floodlight on the screen. Jin is glued to the screen.

  I check my phone and it’s not even ten PM yet. I should not be tired, and I’m definitely not stopping. The next one is the finale. We agree we have to watch it, so I let it play.

  The AC blows in super lightly on my face, how I imagine floating on a cloud would feel. The blanket is silky soft…

  I’m so warm… relaxed… the voices from the show are dull chants…

  Shoot, I closed my eyes again. I try to refocus my attention on the show.

  But the TV’s off.

  I wake all at once, barely registering the den in low light. As usual, watching TV is best done with eyes open.

  There’s a crick in my neck from the position I slept in on this couch. In the middle of my yawn, I look beside me. There’s a tousled head of black hair lying still. Jin.

  I bolt up! Where’s my phone? Gah! Here, 6:03 AM. Oh my god.

  Jin and I slept on the couch. Together. All night.

  Shoot!

  How the heck can he just breathe so peacefully!?

  Okay, okay. I press the heel of my hand on my forehead. I have to figure out a way to keep Jin from telling Lena about this without revealing that she has feelings for him. She’ll definitely be hurt if she finds out I let this happen.

  I can’t tell if I’m anxious or hungry or both, so I sneak out of the den and leave Jin to sleep. Once I have some cereal in my stomach, maybe I can handle this. When I get to the doorway, though, I look over at him. Sleeping Jin is so…

  Nope. No way. I’m booking it to the kitchen.

  Diamond is waiting for me, whimpering by the sliding door into the backyard, so I let him out. Zany’s probably wondering what the heck happened to Jin.

  Ugh, I’m a sore disappointment even to the dogs.

  The stupid cereal box even feels heavy, which I know is literally impossible. I’m all nerves. I slam it down on the counter. Nothing happened.

  Carson would freak if he found out. But he won’t. There’s no reason that would happen. God, I wish my brain didn’t always try to process things through the Carson filter. I think it’s my way of trying to control things ever since that night. But this is nothing like that.

  It’s over. Breathe.

  It wasn’t your fault. Everyone walked away.

  Suddenly I’m sinking. Immersed in the icy pool of that night. The house party. Colored string lights, drinks I refused, the heavy beat of an unrecognizable song, and disorienting currents of wasted teenagers. Breathe. The dim hallway. That song shook the walls and I’m pinned to them. The beat pounds in sync with my heart.

  Stop. Stop. Stop.

  Tyler forces his drunk lips on my neck. I feel sick all over again.

  The cereal bowl scrapes against the granite counter as I push it away. I’m not hungry anymore.

  Diamond paws the door and I go let him back in, having barely resurfaced from drowning in my memory.

  “Um… good morning.” I swivel on my heels. Jin. Gorgeously disheveled and totally unaware that I was just underwater. Breathe.

  Oh, God, but now I’m breathing like a fool!

  “M-morning! Jin!” I stammer.

  Diamond’s in the house and I shut the door and HOLY CRAP what am I supposed to say?! Is he just gonna play it cool? Should I do that? No, I hate that! I’m so not cool right now! But I don’t know how to play it down.

  “I’m really sorry,” Jin says. “For sleeping here. I should’ve gone home when I got tired. That’s on me.”

  Wait. He’s taking the blame?

  “No, it’s fine,” I say. Diffusing is automatic. I don’t control it. “I should’ve told you I was tired. I just wanted to finish the episode.”

  “No way. I was in the same boat and I should’ve gone home. Staying the night was not cool.”

  Wow, I’m really not used to a guy insisting it’s his fault. I’m at a loss for words.

  He stiffens, gathering courage. “Well, I mean! I don’t mean it’s ‘not cool’ like it was horrible. It wasn’t!” He rubs his face and groans. “I’m sorry. I personally think it’s a big deal to stay overnight with… a girl. So, you know...” He clears his throat. “I don’t take it lightly.”

  Is he flustered? What is happening?

  Am I just staring at him? Nod! Do something! Say something!

  “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for conking out.” Conking out? Oh my God, am I my dad?

  Jin sighs in relief. “Are we okay, then?” he asks. And then he gives me a calm, friendly, hopeful smile that obviously I am no match for. Let’s be real.

  “Of course,” I say, and I try to smile, but it hits me that I am already out of social energy. Finally met my quota. “But you should probably check on Zany.”

  “Right!” He nods once. Twice.

  “Right,” I echo and watch as he… doesn’t leave.

  Is he waiting for… “Oh! I’ll text you the details for Americanafest tomorrow.”

  “Great,” he says. That gets him moving and smiling that stupidly handsome smile again. “See you later, Joy.”

  “Bye…”

  Apparently I was holding my breath because I heave a sigh when I hear the front door close.

  I’m relieved to be alone, but I also feel guilty for it. He was so cute, waking up like that.
Trying not to offend me by insisting he was wrong to stay over. Insisting. Carson would never insist he was wrong.

  I feel this slight dethroning of turmoil in my heart. It’s over now. The words are a fraction more tangible. He insisted it wasn’t my fault, and suddenly the grip my past has on me is weaker. Can it be that simple? Are my demons just knots that can be tugged and loosened like thread?

  Upstairs, I retrieve my phone. Cale’s been texting me a bunch.

  CT: There’s a SINGING COMPETITION JOYYYYY

  CT: At Americanafest, forgot to mention that part

  CT: …and I already signed you up. :D :D

  Before I read his next message, dim anxiety rushes me. But it’s the good kind. The kind that I ride like a wave right onto a stage before a performance.

  CT: Think you can beat me???

  Shoot him the gif of Ice Cube saying “It’s on” very intense-like. My pre-performance panic is always diminished when music gets involved. Or maybe when Cale gets involved.

  I don’t care if it’s tomorrow and I haven’t practiced anything. I’m already sounding off scales and imagining the bliss of belting out a ballad.

  I will definitely beat Cale!

  TRACK 10 - TAKE ON ME

  JULY 4TH

  Hopefully I’m not failing at channeling Lena’s make-up sense. Effort is important on this day, the anniversary of our nation’s founding. Good Lord. Is there a foundation that covers inherent dorkiness?

  I weave my hair into a braid crown. The sunshine has given me lighter gold streaks, so the crossing of my strands is cooler than I’d expected. My patriotic foresight was actually in check this year because I actually have an outfit. A striped cherry red-and-white off-shoulder top, kind of a vintage 50s feel, with navy high-waisted (not-too-short) shorts with stars in place of polka dots.

  When I check my made-over look in Lena’s massive mirror, I like it. My freckles pop, and the green in my hazel eyes, too. Blood rushes to my already blush cheeks. I’m knocking on his door today. I wonder if he already texted me.

  I pick up my phone, realizing it’s on vibrate and there’s half a dozen messages and a missed call from Cale.

  CT: Hey, what time should we meet?

  CT: The contest starts at 12. Check-in at 11.

  CT: Should we drive together? I can pick you up from Lena’s

  CT: Actually, I don’t trust that beater. I’ll come get you

  CT: ??? What time? Hello?

  CT: Nvm, I’ll be there at 10

  It’s 10:02 already!! I race down to the front door, and sure enough, he’s on time. Or two minutes late, which feels like 20 minutes early as I mentally list my morning failures. One, I didn’t prepare for Cale being this early. Two, I still haven’t fed the dog. Three, I never ate breakfast.

  And four, I haven’t yet gotten to knock on Jin’s door.

  Chill! It’s going to be a great day. The weather is perfection, I have two really awesome friends to hang with, and I’m going to a festival where there’s a singing contest. All my nerves are like bubbles!

  I wave to Cale once I notice he’s spotted me, then check my phone again.

  Apparently I missed Jin’s texts too.

  JP: Should we ride to the festival together? What time are you thinking you’ll go?

  JP: I’m an early riser so I’ll be ready whenever ;)

  My heart leaps a little at the winking face. It’s just an emoji, sheesh!

  I should go tell Cale I’m running behind schedule. I exit the house and walk up as his driver’s side window slides down.

  “Ooh, automatic windows are so nice,” he says with feeling.

  I laugh. “Wow, rub it in.”

  He slaps the outside of his car door. “So hey, since you weren’t answering, I did the manly thing and decided for you.”

  “Sorry. My phone was on silent.”

  He tuts and rolls his eyes, but it’s exaggerated enough I know he’s kidding. “Well, you ready?”

  “Um, almost. I still have to feed the dogs. And ask if Jin wants a ride or if he’s driving himself.”

  Confusion registers on his face. “You mean Lena’s Jin?”

  Yeah. You know. Your romantic competition. I guess I forgot to mention that I invited him.

  “Uh, yeah. Is it cool if I offer him a ride with us?”

  Cale’s playfulness dissipates as he considers it, which I wasn’t expecting.

  “I guess so.” His tone sounds the tiniest bit offended, but maybe I’m reading him wrong.

  I decide to ask Jin to drive himself. I don’t want Cale to feel like he’s playing chauffeur to the guy who could upend his chances with Lena. Cale agrees to wait and I head over to Jin’s house.

  I lift my knuckles to knock on his door, but he opens it before I make contact.

  “Morning!” he says, extra cheery. I process him in pieces. Voice, then smile, then sunglasses, then cherry red tank. It reads “AMER” and then “ICAN” but in alternating blue and white, to emphasize “I CAN.” I smile back at him.

  “Morning…” I say, amused.

  “Did you get my text?”

  “Yeah, um, is it okay if you drive on the way there? We could ride back together and save Cale the trip.”

  He beams in the bright morning sun. “Sure! Guess I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay.” I turn to leave.

  “Joy?” he says, so I look back. “You look great, by the way.” His grin lingers.

  My feet and well, honestly, my entire body stay stuck for a second. Everything except my heart, which is freaking out. Can’t this sunshine melt my frozen self a little faster?

  “Thanks,” I finally say. Loosen up! “You, too.”

  When regaining my agency, I resist the urge to run as I head to Lena’s house.

  I don’t really catch my breath from his perfectly innocent compliment until after I get food into Diamond’s bowl.

  He said I looked great. Ugh. It’s stupid to keep replaying it in my head. But I do.

  I pile myself into Cale’s car. There’s a rising desire in my chest to share what just happened. But it was probably nothing. I’m sure he says that to Lena all the time.

  Stay cool, Joy.

  “Doesn’t need a ride after all?” Cale’s cheerfulness has mostly returned. I’m back to reality.

  “Nope. He’ll probably drive me back, though, if that’s cool.”

  Cale nods. “That’s cool, that’s cool.”

  He’ll probably drive me back. Just me and him.

  ♫

  It wasn’t just me who put some thought into patriotic dress. Even though that sounds obvious, I’m not just talking about other people. I’m talking about this whole “old town” part of town. Red, white, and blue striped Americana banners decorate the antique lamp posts. Main Street is closed for pedestrians and the shops have their doors wide open. Booths litter the sidewalks, covered in shiny patriotic balloons. The hum of the crowd and distant live jazz music fill the air.

  We walk through the sea of people wearing America’s colors. Occasionally, there’s a rebel color like cotton candy pink or canary yellow. Jin’s neon green cast sticks out that way.

  Nothing is better than food carts. The smoke and salty, spicy aromas waft around us and my mouth waters. Since I was breakfastless, my nose is on high alert for something hot and probably meaty.

  Part of me is sad to miss out on my family’s baked beans and Dad’s barbecue chicken, but I already told myself I’d settle for leftovers. It’s the first Independence Day in which I’m claiming my own independence.

  However, my stomach seriously expects some food right now. Hamburgers and hot dogs in red plaid cartons walk by me, in the hands of less worthy eaters. There’s shaved ice and fritters and curly fries the perfect color of crispy, dark orange. I ache for them. Like almost literally.

  “We gotta go check in!” Cale says, nudging me away from the blissful morsels of fried sustenance. Jin and I keep up with Cale’s energetic pace.

  “Did
you eat yet, Joy?” Jin asks. I shake my head.

  We head straight to the table labeled CHECK IN. The guy at the table is wearing a shirt far too small, and seems very uninterested in fun. He hands us a clipboard with a list of names and songs for us to choose from.

  Cale writes his name with flare. He winks at me when he hands me the clipboard. I glance at it.

  CALE THOMAS - TAKE ON ME

  He literally couldn’t have picked a better song for himself.

  I write my name in my bubbly penmanship.

  JOY BECKER -

  I scan the setlist. It’s all 80s karaoke. I want a song with power in it. Not just upbeat or punchy. Something to showcase my range. And wipe that smug look off of Cale’s face.

  Found it.

  “You’re goin down, Thomas!” I say as I pencil in my song choice.

  I hand the clipboard back to the guy at the table. Completely monotone he says, “You must be present to accept the title after the competition. Results at 3pm.” And then he sighs.

  All I can say is my mood is the opposite of this guy’s.

  My stomach gurgles at me. I get that odd sucking feeling, like my stomach is trying to escape my body and get food on its own. I scan for nearby carts, but I notice Jin’s missing.

  “Where’s Jin?” I ask Cale. He shrugs.

  I turn around and search the crowd, trying to spot a lime green arm somewhere.

  “Joy!” I hear on the side I haven’t checked. Jin weaves through people. With a pulled pork sandwich on a flimsy paper plate that might as well be fine china.

  “I got you some food,” he says.

  Who is this angel sent from Heaven? I close my gaping mouth, fearing drool might escape.