“I get that.” Hundred percent true statement. Same goes with me and Not So Plain and Small. I’d tell Devon, but he’d make it a thing, and I’ve got to play this right.
I hold up my fist. Devon bumps it.
Now I just need to figure out my next move.
Before I get anywhere though, the phone rings.
Mom calls from the back of the house. “Will, honey, it’s for you.”
Weird. Who would call the house line?
“Hello?”
“Will McKinney?”
“Yes.”
“This is Jonathan Warner from Tamarack Wilderness Camp. I have your application here.”
Damn, that was fast. I just sent the thing in on Monday.
“Oh, hi, right. I mean, yes, sir.”
The voice on the other end of the line chuckles. “Though I appreciate the courtesy, just Jonathan is fine. Anyway, I’m loving your application. Banjo, hiking, kayaking. Seems like you’d be a good fit with a lot of skills to bring to the table. Your references checked out solid, too. I know this is early, but our junior counselor positions fill up really quickly. If you’re ready to commit to a summer job, we’re ready to offer it.”
“For real?” Mom’s walked in and is looking at me with a questioning smile. I give her the thumbs-up.
“For real,” Jonathan answers.
“Yes. Absolutely. Thank you.”
He tells me they’ll be sending out a paperwork package in a few weeks and to keep an eye out for it but in the meantime watch my email for updates.
I hang up. “I got the job.”
“The camp?” Mom’s leaning on the counter with a big smile on her face.
“Yeah.” I scratch the back of my neck. “I think I’m excited.”
“Excited about what?” Dad appears from the back of the house. I quick eye Mom and she nods like I’ve got her vote.
“Um. I applied to a wilderness camp for the summer. To be a counselor. I got the job.”
Devon cracks from the couch, “Corrupting young minds one at a time.”
“I wish you’d get the rest of your Carolina application done with the same fervor.” Dad frowns as he pours himself another cup of coffee.
I take a deep breath. “Dad. Can we talk? Out on the porch?” I don’t want Mom there for backup or Devon to make any more well-intentioned cracks. I need it to be me and my father, man-to-man, musician to former musician.
Once seated, I clear my throat. “About the Carolina application.”
Dad interrupts. “I told you not to worry about getting in. I have that covered.”
“Dad, you’re not listening. Okay. I know I’ve been an ass since we moved here. And I know I’ve caused you and Mom more heartache than I’m worth, but I listened to you. I’ve cleaned up my act. I joined fifth period chorus. I’m studying and my grades are edging up.”
“As you should have been all along.”
I sigh and roll my eyes and Dad stops himself. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Dad, I don’t want to go to Carolina. I know it’s your alma mater. I know it’s a great school. But a strange thing happened.”
He looks at me over his mug and raises his wild eyebrows.
“I hated this place so much when we moved here. You don’t even know. But it’s kind of grown on me. The people. The land. The music.”
Dad starts rocking. “You’ve been bit.”
“What?”
“The bug. You’ve got the music bug.”
“Dad. It’s more than a bug. It’s me. It’s what I want. I talked to a guy over at ETSU and I can study mountain music. That’s where I want to apply. Mrs. Early, my chorus teacher and our guidance counselor, has already told me my scores are good enough to get in. The guy from the music school was impressed by my playing.”
Dad’s quiet for a while. Then he does this soft kind of introspective laugh. “I left here to make a better life. But it drew me back.” He looks out at the mountains rising around us. “Suppose it was foolish for me to think it wouldn’t cast you in its spell. And I suppose it’s what I hoped for.”
Then he leans forward. “Promise me something.”
This conversation is starting to feel like it’s going my way. “Yes, sir?”
“Get two degrees. Music can’t support you the way you’ve been raised.”
That sounded surprisingly like the end of a battle and the promise he’s asking for is one I can make.
“Two degrees.” I nod. “So, yes?”
“Son, you’re eighteen. You’re going to forge your own path. Blaze your own trail. Yes, that trail got a little crooked for a while, but if you’re brave enough to take the risks I wasn’t able to, then go with my blessing. But . . .” He leans farther forward and puts his finger toward my face. “No more funny business.”
“Yes, sir.” And then, I get up from my chair and wrap my dad in a bear hug. A real man-to-man, arms-tight embrace. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too, Will.”
What’s felt like two years of tension eases away and what’s left behind is hope.
Now the only thing I still need to do is tell Amber Vaughn how I feel.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I was ready
Time to go
One phone call
One swift blow
I never worked up the nerve to call Amber on Saturday. I worked nonstop on her songs, but somehow actually reaching out, now that I could without guilt, scared the shit out of me. Now here it is Sunday afternoon, and I’m still staring at my phone like it’s a two-headed rattlesnake. Come on, Will. You got this.
I hit her number. It rings a couple of times, and then she answers. Her voice is bright and breathless.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Amber.” Then I think about how she must think we left things on Friday night. “Sorry our practice got cut short Friday.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Can we try again? Tomorrow after chorus? I’ve been working on ‘Ave Maria.’”
There’s a pause. “Are you sure you want to?”
Does she want to? “I told you I’d help.”
“I know. I just don’t want your girlfriend pissed off at you. Not that I’m a threat or anything, but—”
I’ve got to stop her. Let her know. “Not So Plain and Small.”
“Yeah?”
I clear my throat. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No.” There. I’ve done it. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders.
But she keeps talking like she didn’t hear me. “Hey,” Amber says. “Would you help me with an errand after school, before practice?”
I’m not sure she understands what I just told her. I did tell her, didn’t I?
“Sure, what do you need?”
“I’ve got to go by the pawnshop to pay for a guitar.”
“A guitar?” Why are we talking about guitars and not the fact that I broke up with my girlfriend? “Is it for you?”
She’s super-quiet for a long time. Then she says, “It’s for Sean. I took up a collection and we got him a Gibson. Sean’s really good. We should all play together sometime.”
And there is the mic drop. I am speechless. I waited too long.
“Will?”
I must make some guttural sound.
“Is that okay?”
“Oh, yeah sure.” Fuck, fuck, fuckity motherfuck, fuck. “Um, listen. I’ve got to run. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
When I hit the off button, I stare at the phone.
Then I throw it against my wall.
Later in the afternoon, Devon comes and finds me out back where I’m sulking with a Ron Rash book in the tree platform Dad built for us. We’d laughed at the time, because we were already in high school, but his fulfilling his boyhood dream for us actually turned out to be a good thing. It’s both me and my brother’s favorite thinking spot.
“Here.” Devon hands me a Gatorade and a warm pumpkin muf
fin. “Dad got all domestic this afternoon. Told me to bring you one.”
“Thanks, man.”
Devon settles back against a post. “Whatcha reading?”
I hold up the book. “Some dude. Teaches down at Western Carolina. Short stories. They’re pretty good.”
Devon nods.
“How’s it going with Skype boy?”
It’s like my brother’s internal lightbulb switches on. “He’s great.”
“Huh,” I say.
“What? Don’t tease. I really like him. He’s cool. You’ll like him, too. He skis and sails and is really into archaeology.”
“What about music?”
“Enough.”
I eat the muffin and we settle into brother quiet. Off in the distance a woodpecker hammers a dead tree. Eventually, Devon speaks again. “Found your phone. I was sort of curious why it was on the floor with a cracked screen, so I did some snooping.”
I put the book down.
“I thought I was going to find Amber Rose’s number as the last dialed and that y’all had gotten into it again. Was sort of surprised to see Plain and Small’s instead.” He raises one eyebrow.
“I called her about practice.”
“And threw your phone at the wall?”
The jig is up but I definitely don’t feel like talking about it. “Drop it, bro.”
Devon sits up and folds his legs across each other. “No. What’s up? Do you like her or something? I’ve kind of been getting a vibe.”
“I said drop it, Devon. She’s buying a guitar for Sean. She obviously is into him.”
“Huh.” Devon looks off like he’s thinking. “I knew about that. Think she was just being a Good Samaritan. She hasn’t mentioned that she was into him.” Then he looks at me again. “But you’re into her?”
I lift my shoulders. “She’s cool.”
“You know, I wouldn’t care. She’s my best friend. And you’re my other best friend. As long as you didn’t get all weird around me, I might actually like the two of you together.”
“Yeah, doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”
Devon rolls his eyes. “And you people call me the drama queen.”
He walks back to the house and I wonder. Is he right? Am I overreacting? Again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The sight of you
The way you sing
Block out my doubts
Make my heart ring
Monday morning, I decide I’m going to tear a page from Devon’s advice column and take a chill pill. I see Amber when she comes into school and it’s hard not to react in the woe-is-me way. She’s dressed like she’s ready for the stage, not her normal school clothes, but more like she’s got someone she’s trying to impress. But Sean doesn’t meet her. Devon and C.A. swoop in and flutter around her then lead her off to the art room. Good thing, too, because I see Amber Rose looking at her like she’s ready to kill.
True to her word, Amber Rose doesn’t talk to me. But Sarabeth does. “So, hear you broke my girl’s heart on Friday. Congratulations, dick. What’d you do?”
“Nothing, Sarabeth. We just aren’t right for each other.”
“You’re a dick.” But she doesn’t start yelling about me being a cheater.
I catch Amber Rose’s eye. She nods once then looks away. I sigh. “Go away, Sarabeth. Make someone else’s life miserable.”
“Whatever. You’re dead to us, you know.” I guess Amber Rose is lucky to have a friend so loyal but she’s making me crazy. I shoo her away with my hand.
When Sarabeth leaves, I head to class early for some alone time so I can figure out what’s next. Maybe I can talk to Amber at lunch and ask her point-blank about her and Sean. It’s better to know than to assume.
I sit through first, then second block. As I watch the clock, I’m figuring out my strategy. I’m going to walk right up to her and lay it out. “Amber,” I’m going to say, “I don’t think I was clear yesterday. When I said my girlfriend wasn’t going to be a problem, it’s because I don’t have one. Me and Amber Rose broke up.” Then I’m going to judge her reaction. I’ll swallow a big mouthful of pride and ask her about Sean. I won’t know my next move until I hear her answer.
The bell rings. I gather my books and my nerve.
Down the hall, kids are milling and moving about, clanging lockers and yelling to wait up. Me? I’m in quicksand. My throat is dry. My hands are nervous. This is so stupid. I’m not this guy.
When I get to the first floor, I see Amber huddled with Devon and C.A. outside the library. A group of freshman girls walks by and just as they pass, Amber takes off. Toward me. I want to yell at her to watch out for the book bag on the floor but it’s too late. She hits it and goes flying.
I jog toward her. Devon and C.A. come running from the other direction. Mrs. Early appears from her office door. We all get to Amber at the same time.
“Are you okay, Amber?” Mrs. Early leans over her.
Devon and C.A. squat down and put her arms over their shoulders. “Here, we’ll take you to the nurse.”
I’m standing there not doing anything, not sure where I fit, when Amber looks at me.
“Are you okay?” I take a step closer.
She looks away, tears in her eyes, her face filled with pain and something else. Embarrassment? “I’m okay,” she says, but her voice is choked with tears. When she tries to put pressure on the ankle she hurt a week ago, Amber crumples.
“Oh.” C.A. leans in and puts a hand to her mouth.
I step in. “Here, let me help.” I take the arm C.A. had and Amber grips my shoulder. We take her, en masse, to the nurse’s office. I guide her onto the examination table while Devon explains what happened to the nurse.
Mrs. Early and C.A. leave once they’re sure she’s in good hands but me and Devon hang out.
“So what happened back there? Why were you running?” I slide onto the table next to her, desperately wanting to put my arm around her and make the pain disappear.
Devon looks over. “Kush is talking trash about her.”
Amber shudders back a sob. “Why would he do that?” She presses a Kleenex to her eyes, then her nose.
Devon shrugs. “Maybe because you rejected him? Because he thinks you picked Sean instead?”
“Thinks?” I look between them. Now Kush is after Amber, too?
Amber starts crying.
Devon huddles close. “Yeah. It’s my fault. I asked for her or C.A. to kiss Kush.” He nudges me. “You know, as a test.”
Amber sucks in a breath as the nurse touches her ankle. Or is it because of what Devon said?
“Did you?” I ask. “Kiss him?” Every time I think I’m finally going to say what I need to say to this girl, another wrench gets thrown in the works.
“Yes,” she says. “I did. But it’s not what you think.”
“But you kissed him.” I need the facts.
Volcano girl reappears. “It’s not like I have a boyfriend, even if I had been into it. Which I wasn’t.”
The nurse shoos us out of the room before I can say anything else.
“Devon?” It’s the only question I need as we walk away, toward the cafeteria.
“She’s not into Sean. I checked. And she’s telling the truth. You should get her to tell you the whole story. It’s messed up and now Kush is being a total douche bag. Makes me extra glad I didn’t keep barking up that tree.”
Okay. So she kissed the dude. But she doesn’t like him: it was a dare. And she’s right. She’s not my girlfriend.
“So are you going to ask her out, or what?” Devon hands me a tray as we reach the front of the food line.
“You don’t care?”
“I told you I didn’t.”
“Do you think she’s interested?”
Devon rolls his eyes at the lunch lady and mouths “boys.” She winks at him and smirks at me. “I don’t know, Will. Should I send her a note? Check yes if you like my brother.”
“Would you?�
��
He stops the line and stares at me for a full five seconds without blinking.
I shake my head. “Okay, stop. I know.” I take the pizza the lunch lady offers.
Devon huffs. “You sound like a whipped dog. But, yes, I will ask her if she likes you.”
We punch in our student account numbers at the register.
“Today?”
He cranks his head around and goes all bug-eyed and annoyed. “Yes, Will. Today. I’ll ask her today.”
“Geez. You don’t have to be so testy.” But even as I growl the words, I can’t stop the smile from creeping onto my face.
Before lunch ends I text Amber to see if she’s okay. Turns out her ankle was broken not sprained and she’s getting a cast, but I ask about our tentative practice plans anyway.
Practice?
Yes. Then I see she’s typing more. That kiss wasn’t real, I swear.
You don’t owe me an explanation. I answer. Then type another line. But I believe you.
I hit send. Then write a few more words.
So when are you going to kiss me again?
I don’t have the nerve to send that one.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It’s nice to talk
To watch your eyes
To take it slow
To realize
When I leave school I have a revelation. I don’t want Devon to intervene. I don’t need his help. If there’s a real thing happening between me and Amber Vaughn, I want it to unfold like a song. A slow build. A chorus. A repeat. Anything else is middle school.
“Dude. I changed my mind about Amber.”
Devon is slathering peanut butter onto thick slices of Dad’s homemade wheat bread. He takes a bite, then garbles his response. “Whatever.”
“No. I’m serious. She’s coming over to practice. And she’s good. She’s going to get into that school and the last thing she needs is me messing with her head. Promise you’ll leave it.”
He swallows the bite he’s chewing. “Just because she’s auditioning doesn’t mean she can’t date. You two will be adorbs together.”
Now would be the perfect moment to tell Devon what happened between me and Amber Vaughn. But even though I am the boy who cheated, I am not the boy who tells. Even to my brother. If Amber wants to tell him, fine, they’re best friends. But it’s not my place.
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