Secret Heart

by Dreger,Danielle

  The effort to lift my head off of my pillow is too great.

  “I heard about Madison and Miles allegedly getting back together. Do you know what some sophomore wench called them? M&M. Ugh. It made me puke in my mouth.” He flips on the bedroom light and I squint against the brightness until my eyes start to adjust. “So I come bearing gifts.” From the nest on my bed I can see that he’s holding a large paper cup from The Bean Tree. “Almond milk latte with an extra shot of espresso from Taylor. BTW she told me to tell you hi. So hi.”

  “Hi,” I mumble. I free my hand from under the duvet and reach for the cup. “Want.”

  “I don’t think so,” he says. “You have to get out of bed first.” He pauses. “Unless you’re naked under those sheets. That is not something I want to see. Not at seven in the morning. Not ever. No offense.”

  “No,” I say and pull the covers to my chin. “Did Mom put you up to this?”

  “Not telling.” He opens my curtains and the late May sunshine temporarily blinds me.

  “Then how did you get to The Bean Tree this morning?”

  “I teleported.” Scott sets the coffee on my desk next to my laptop. The movement wakes the computer and Madison’s Facebook page is in full view on my screen. Her relationship status has changed from In a Relationship to It’s Complicated. Scott raises an eyebrow before closing the browser.

  I throw the covers off and slide off the bed. It only takes three steps to procure the coffee. My body relaxes after the first jolt of caffeine hits my bloodstream.

  “Nice jammies,” Scott says pointing at the dancing penguins that adorn my pink flannel pants.

  “Screw you.”

  Scott matches my smile. “Thanks but no thanks.”

  I take my coffee back to bed and pull up the sheets. “I’m taking another personal day.”

  “There is one week of school left. Are you trying to fail?”

  “No. Maybe.”

  Scott crawls into bed with me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I sigh. “It just hit me that everything is ending. I’m graduating in like a minute. Madison and I are totally done. I’ve lost the band. Everyone in LP hates me. I almost lost you.”

  “No one in LP hates you. I told them you were having relationship drama that rivaled a pop album and they understood. And P.S. you will never lose me.” He sets his empty cup down on the nightstand and picks up the teddy bear my dad gave me when I was three. “You might need to lose this if you ever want to get laid again.” He waves Teddy in the air and I snatch him away. “But you’ve been counting down to graduation.”

  “I know.” I lean against my pillow. Teddy is tucked under my arm. His worn fur is soft against my skin. “And I was so consumed with Madison that it all snuck up on me. I’m graduating and I don’t have a plan.”

  “You have a plan. You have your music.”

  “And I have you.”

  He nods. “Yes, you do. And Austin is still an option. I know you love me a shit-ton but you love your music more. You should be with your music, not stuck in the armpit of Florida.”

  “But Austin is off the table. I don’t have a band anymore.”

  Scott raises an eyebrow. “I bet they would take you back. Especially now that they’ve seen how pathetic you are without them.”

  I drain the last of my latte. “Monica and Janet made it perfectly clear how they feel about me. I don’t need to be told twice.”

  “There are other bands.”

  We fall silent. Tegan and Sara’s “Boyfriend,” is on repeat on my stereo. It would have been a perfect song to cover at our shows. Scott takes the remote and turns it off. “That’s little much, even for you and your romantic yearnings. Tegan and Sara did not write that song to be played on a continuous loop.”

  “Sure they did. Are you ready for Saturday night?” I ask.

  “Nope,” he says. “I’m freaking out.”

  “Will everything be ready?”

  “Of course. We have everything taken care of. LP really pulled it together.”

  “I was talking about performing with DTG,” I say.

  “I’m scared shitless about getting up there and singing. It’s not as easy as you make it look.”

  “You’ll be fine.” I reach over and squeeze his hand.

  He squeezes it back. “You’re coming, right?”

  “Nope.” I can’t watch my band perform with my best friend and not me. I can’t be around the friends I betrayed. I’m surprised by how much I miss belonging to the club but I don’t want to witness what I tried to ruin.

  “Don’t make me do it alone,” he says. “I need your moral support.”

  “You’ll have my moral support from the comfort of my couch.”

  “Please, Avery.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Okay.”

  We stare at my ceiling for awhile. The sun makes its trajectory across the sky, casting shadows in my room. “This feels like the end of everything,” I say.

  “You know it’s not.” Scott says. “It’s just the beginning.”

  I turn to him. “When did you become an inspirational poster?”

  He shrugs. “I might have seen it on a Hallmark card.”

  I laugh and it sounds strange. “My dad used to say things like that all the time. In a way I’m glad he’s not here to see the mess I made of senior year.”

  “What do you think he’d say?”

  I close my eyes and conjure up the last image I have of my dad. He is wearing his Atlanta Braves baseball cap and a scraggly beard. “He’d be all ‘Avery you need to step up to the plate. When life throws you a knuckleball you just close your eyes and aim for the left field bleachers.’”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Scott says. “But knuckleball sounds a little perverted.”

  I punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up. It was a baseball analogy.”

  Scott rolls his eyes. “Duh.”

  “Careful, your face will stick like that.”

  “You wish.” He waits a few beats before he says, “You haven’t talked baseball in years. What gives?”

  “I’m finally moving on,” I say. “Maybe it’s time to dust off that Braves cap. Or start supporting the Rays.”

  Scott gasps. “Your dad is rolling over in his grave right now over you supporting some other team.”

  “Maybe. Tampa doesn’t suck anymore. They are finally taking some heat and connecting their bats with balls”

  Scott looks like he is having a seizure. “OMG baseball is totally perverted,” he says, his body shaking with laughter. “I never realized it. Pitchers and catchers. Balls. Keep going. Say more baseball things.”

  I clear my throat and lower my voice in a poor imitation of my dad. “Avery, you only need two things to be a ball player. A solid glove and the ability to shake things off. The same goes for life.”

  Scott roars with laughter.

  I grin and it feels good. “An infield homerun is just as important as one that is hit out the park. All that matters is that you got it done.”

  “More,” Scott gasps.

  “Don’t be afraid to get dirty.”

  He howls. “I can’t even imagine you covered in baseball dirt.” He wipes a tear from his eye and says, “Do another.”

  “Baseball is a game of statistics. One bad at bat won’t break you. Hell, twenty at bats won’t break you. Eventually you’ll find your rhythm again. Just be patient.”

  Scott stops laughing. “That’s not as funny, but your ghost dad has a point. I’m glad you’re moving on.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I hate it when he’s right.”

  ON PROM NIGHT I torture myself by following my Facebook feed on my phone while The Lucky One plays on mute on the TV. My Netflix queue is full of Nicholas Sparks movies and I have a two-liter of Coke and a bag of microwave popcorn. Mom is chaperoning Unprom with Maura’s mom. It’s just me and this leather couch.

  I’m ready to party.

  I unmute the TV for the Tay
lor Shilling/Zac Efron shower sex scene. When it ends I mute it back so I can follow the Unprom and Prom happenings. One of Madison’s soccer friends has posted pictures of them posing in front of a limo. Madison looks like a movie star in her strapless blue dress. I swipe to the next picture and the entire room freezes over. Madison is smiling up at Miles like she never said she loved me. The next photo is of the whole Scooby Douche gang posing in front of the Columbia restaurant. It is just a matter of time before there are pictures of their salads and steak dinners and selfies taken in a bathroom mirror.

  I click over to the Lion Pride fan page. I’m so proud of what Scott and everyone has accomplished this year. I don’t even hate that he sucked me into participating in a school activity. Lion Pride had its fun moments.

  Scott has added a pic with Monica and Janet. DTG plays at 9:30, so get your asses to the Oak Bluffs Library. Twenty people have already liked the picture. The decorations for Unprom looks great. Potted trees wrapped in white lights line the perimeter of the meeting space. There is a makeshift stage with Janet’s drum set, Monica’s keyboard, and a couple of mics. There is plenty of room for the dance floor. The food table has a tower of donuts and an empty punch bowl. Someone in Lion Pride has rigged a net on the ceiling and filled it with purple balloons. A laugh escapes me when I find the photo booth set up in the lobby. A giant rainbow backdrop screams Scott’s handiwork. There is the LP logo in the center with UNPROM 2016. They really outdid themselves.

  A new video pops up on the page. I don’t need to click on the thumbnail to know what it is.

  I’m going to murder Scott.

  I turn off Zac Efron and head to my room. I need to put on pants if I’m going to commit a felony tonight. The vintage white tux Scott and I found at Goodwill two months ago hangs on the back of my door. If I’m going to kill Scott, I might as well look good. I pull the matching jacket on over my black T-shirt. I find my black Converse discarded under my desk with a pair of green argyle socks. No one will be able to tell that I’m wearing dirty socks.

  When I start my car I switch my music to shuffle. I’m going to let fate pick my playlist tonight. The first song to play is “Music is My Hot, Hot Sex” and I rock out to the sounds of CSS as I head to the library. The end of that song transitions to Tegan and Sara’s “Closer” which seems like it might be a sign if I believed in them. I take a hard right and something heavy shifts in my trunk.

  The library parking lot is half full when I arrive. “The Night Starts Here” begins when I pull into a parking space. I sit with the engine running until the song ends.

  Scott and Maura are dancing to Taylor Swift’s “Style” when I walk into the meeting room. All of Lion Pride is there, except for Madison and Jessica, who are no doubt at Prom by now. Darren waves at me and I flash him a quick smile before marching up to Scott.

  “What the hell were you thinking posting that video?” I push Scott hard.

  He stumbles back into the drinks table and a stack of purple plastic cups fall to the floor. He steadies himself and gives me a megawatt smile. “I was thinking I had to find a way to drag your ass here.” He gestures to my tux. “And it worked.”

  Maura picks up the cups and tosses them into a nearby trashcan. “I saw the video. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Bullshit,” I cough into my fist. I jab my finger at the purple rose boutonniere pinned to his black jacket. Mom did a stellar job on it. “I am ruined.”

  “No you’re not.” He waves his hand at the people dancing. “You have two days of high school left. And nobody here gives a rat’s ass about you singing and crying over a girl.”

  “Actually, we do,” Janet says. I spin around and face my former bandmates. Monica is dressed in a hot pink monstrosity that was probably a prop in a bad ‘80’s prom movie. Janet is wearing black dress pants with a Lion Pride shirt.

  “That was an unbelievable set,” Monica says. “I really dug that last song you played.”

  “It’s not too sappy for you?” I ask.

  “Not the least. Even Janet agrees. Right, Janet?” Monica elbows Janet in the ribs.

  “Yeah, “Last Dance” wasn’t complete shit.” The corner of Janet’s mouth edges up toward a smile. “I wouldn’t die if you played it again.”

  “Thanks.”

  The music changes to a Justin Timberlake song. “Why did you decide to play Now That’s What I Call Mainstream Music, Volume One Million?” I ask Scott.

  “It was the best I could do without your music expertise. Besides we want people to dance.” Sure enough the room is filling up. I only recognize a handful of the dancers out on the floor.

  “Isn’t your set starting soon?”

  Scott and Monica exchange a look. “About that,” he says.

  “Yeah, about that,” Monica chimes in. “We might have been a bit hasty in kicking you out of the band.” Janet nods and Monica continues. “You were right. You kind of are the heartbeat of the band. That video proves it.”

  “Without you we’re just a couple of bitches who rock hard.” Janet puts her arm around Scott. “And Brown isn’t bad, but he’s not you.”

  “I don’t do your songs justice,” he says. “And I suck at guitar.”

  “You can say that again.” Monica smiles and ruffles Scott’s hair.

  He pushes her hand away. “Hey there. I spent an hour getting it to do this.”

  The song changes to one by Beyoncé and out of the corner of my eye I spot Darren doing the choreographed dance moves.

  “What do you say?” Janet asks. “Will you come back?” She bites her bottom lip as she waits for my answer. I hardly recognize my bandmate looking sincere. She really wants me back.

  “Pretty please,” Monica says. “And we don’t have to talk about Austin until after graduation if you don’t want to. We can just focus on today.”

  The words that pour out of my mouth surprise me. “I’m open to Austin.” Scott smiles at me and there is a pinprick of sadness behind my eyes. What he said to me in my room about this not being the end has been haunting me all week. It’s not like I can’t FaceTime him. Or G-chat with him during Scandal. Just because I’m in a different red state doesn’t mean we’re going to stop being besties. “I will consider moving there if this works out.”

  “Really?” Monica asks. Her face explodes with happiness

  “What changed your mind?” Janet asks. “Student council?”

  Monica punches Janet in the shoulder. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

  “The thing I realized,” I start, “is that I don’t want to be a solo performer. I don’t want to play for old geezers or in coffee houses. I want to play with you guys in real venues in a real city. You guys are like the sisters I never had.” I look at Janet and say, “You annoy me and I hate you half the time, but you’re family. I missed you.”

  “I almost missed you,” Janet says smiling. “And I hate you three quarters of the time.”

  “Look at that. The band is back together,” Scott says.

  “This is not how I envisioned how my night would go,” I say.

  Monica hugs me and says, “Welcome back, Avery, too bad you don’t have your guitars.”

  “She has them with her,” Scott says.

  I give him a confused look. “No, I don’t.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “I might have asked your mom to sneak them into the trunk of your car this afternoon. Just in case you changed your mind.”

  I shake my head. “What would I do without you?”

  “I don’t know. Watch shitty rom-coms by yourself? Listen to Taylor Swift? Stuff your face with pizza? Wait, that’s what you do now.”

  “Screw you,” I say.

  “There’s not enough time,” Scott retorts. “You’ve got a show. Get your ass moving.”

  I run out to my car to get my guitars. Now the parking lot is nearly full. On my way back in I spot Alex and Kristin posing in the photo booth. They wave and I wave back.

  “Coming through,” I say as I push through
the couples dancing to Katy Perry. Janet and Monica are finalizing the set list. I’m in the middle of tuning when Scott comes up, holding his phone like precious cargo.

  “So Prom Queen was just announced,” he says.

  “So?”

  “Jessica uploaded a video of it to Facebook.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m busy. I don’t have time to watch that crap.” The room is humming with energy. Nearly everyone has stopped dancing to look at something on their phones. “It must be one hell of a cat video because no one here gives a flying fuck about who was crowned Prom Queen.”

  “Trust me,” he says. “It’s not a cat video. You want to watch this.”

  “I have three minutes before we play. It can wait.”

  “No, Avery. It can’t.”

  “It can’t be that big of a deal,” I say but the serious look on his face is too much. I take his phone and start the video. Madison has the camera trained on her. “Hi, everyone,” she says. “The DJ is about to announce Prom King and Queen. Wish me luck.” The camera gets turned back to the dance and the dance floor of her Prom is nearly empty.

  The sound is tinny but I can hear the DJ announce Prom King. It goes to Dylan Prescott. “The voting must have been rigged,” I tell Scott. “No one in their right mind voted for that asshat.”

  “Agreed.”

  The DJ bellows, “And this year’s Prom Queen is Madison Shea.”

  Madison must hand her phone to someone because the there is a brief view of the floor and someone’s red shoes before the camera is trained on Madison walking up to the stage. I hand the phone back over to Scott. “I’m done. I don’t need to see her get a crown or dance with that dick. This is me moving on from Madison.” I point to my face. “This is me not caring.”

  He puts the phone back in his pocket. “If that’s the case then why are you playing “Last Dance?” Are you trying to send her a message?”

  I sigh. “No. It’s not for me. This song is for everyone who is graduating and moving on. It is about saying goodbye.”

  “To Madison.”