Joy's Summer Love Playlist

by Piper Bee

  I love him.

  Jin leans over on the table and lowers his voice. “So, no pressure, but… can we get out of here now?”

  I smile and nod. I’m out of the booth before he says another word, abandoning my shake even though it’s half full and strawberry’s my favorite.

  I push the door open, breaking into the heat to the sound of a tinkerbell. I feel Jin’s hand on my shoulder and I turn around.

  I’m swung into his embrace in a moment. He kisses me.

  Jin wraps his strong arms around the nape of my neck and small of my back. Surprise and bliss cascade down my body like honey. There is nothing else but me and him.

  Goodness, Jin Park. If everything had to fall apart, I’m glad it was for you.

  I don’t know why I thought I could convince myself to let him go. I’m elated, pulling away from this kiss, looking into his glimmering eyes again.

  Funny how quickly happiness can fly away.

  “Joy! What the hell are you doing?”

  Carson.

  He found me. It takes everything in me not to pretend I’m invisible.

  Jin runs his hand down my arm and squeezes my hand. He’s in this fight with me.

  “Why can’t you leave me alone?” I say, trying not to raise my voice.

  He rushes us, no care for making a scene out in public. “You still need to explain what the hell that was about.”

  The light beaming off the mirrored diner feels more intense than the sun itself.

  I wipe sweat off my forehead. “Why don’t you just ask Lena? Apparently you two are very intimate.”

  Jin’s arm straightens and he shoots me a brief look of confusion.

  Carson waves that off. “Bullshit, that was just kissing.”

  “Oh, so it’s fine when you do it behind my back, but not when I do?”

  “I’m not the one who’s cheating!” His eyes flit over to Jin, making sure he heard. The cars driving by sound like slow bullets. I look up at Jin, stoic in the face of my erratic brother. I can’t tell if he’s disregarding everything Carson says… or if he’s wondering if he’s right.

  “Is it really worth it, Joy?” Carson gets up close to Jin, looking him in the eye, but keeps his words and venomous tone for me. “Mom told me your little boy toy here is going to Korea next week. Apparently his mom is super proud. So what’s the point in cheating with him?”

  Jin cracks. “She’s not cheating.”

  Carson laughs like it’s a bad joke. Every nerve I have is anticipating more, but Carson doesn’t tense up like he’s ready to throw a punch.

  He takes a step closer.

  I pull my hand out from Jin’s and point at my brother. “You’re just scared because his dad is Tyler’s lawyer, and you think all that stuff is gonna come back to us. It won’t. It’s over.”

  He looks at me, verging on hurt. “Really? You think it can be over after I lost everything?”

  I stiffen. It’s almost hard to breathe when it’s this hot. These late July days are never usually this brutal.

  I’ve been filled with so much regret ever since OSU called the meeting and pulled Carson’s scholarship. I always felt like it was my fault. Repeated to myself that it wasn’t. That it was over.

  But it was never really over for him.

  “I’ll be happy when he’s on the other side of the world,” Carson says.

  Jin rests his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I whip around. “What? But your internsh—”

  “I’m gonna drop it.” His eyes go soft on mine. “I told you I would fight for this. And I still mean it. If that means staying here, so be it.”

  I study his resolve. I know he means it, and I want him to. But the regret over Carson’s lost future still yanks on my gut. In my mind, Jin staying was never an option. The Korea internship was his future, because it’s what’s best for him.

  “You can’t do that, Jin,” I say. I’ve already ruined too many futures.

  Carson scoffs. “You’d really give up your fancy internship for a girl who cheats?”

  I look over my shoulder. “I told you, Cale was never my boyfriend.”

  Carson tugs on his shirt to air it out. “Yeah yeah, keep it up.” He looks at Jin. There are flares in each of their eyes. “You believed that shit? Even though she kissed him today?”

  My gut sinks like it’s full of lead. Jin cracks a little more, a line in between his eyebrows forming. He brushed Carson off before, but now he’s not sure what to make of it. He’s looking at me with uncertainty.

  “Did you?” he asks.

  I raise my hands defensively. “Let me explain that.”

  His eyes widen. “You did?”

  “Jin, it’s not like that,” I say, but this is like that scene in every movie where someone gets caught in their deception. And it does quick work of making things worse.

  The subtle expression of hurt on his brow, the slow shaking of his head. He’s wondering about it all. Rifling through every memory for some inconsistency to the theory that I lied about my relationship with Cale.

  “You kissed him, and then you called me?”

  I try to regroup. “Okay. I thought it would make me stop thinking about you.” Damn it! I sound even worse. Textbook example of being caught in a lie.

  He steps back. “You wanted to stop thinking about me? Why? Did you feel guilty?”

  No no no no! Why can’t I say anything right?

  “Finally, he figures it out,” Carson chides.

  Jin’s dark eyes linger on me, searching for a way to reconcile this chasm my brother ripped open so carelessly. “I believed you,” he says to me, like he’s upset with himself. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  I shudder. I can’t watch this. I cover my face, blocking out the sun, Jin’s hurt, my brother’s smugness. I cry into my already damp palms.

  I don’t know how to fix this. I really don’t.

  I look at him, the rims of my eyes certainly red. “I’m so sorry, Jin.”

  He frowns, hearing my apology as confirmation. He breathes out like he’s in physical pain. “Me too.”

  My breath hitches as he walks away. I can’t bring myself to stop him. This was inevitable, wasn’t it? All the reasons we couldn’t work fill in the widening space between us.

  An ignorant couple opens the door, the bell ringing amidst the carnage of this fallout. Jin gets into his car and I cast my gaze to the gray sidewalk under my feet. His car starts up.

  And then he drives away.

  I lift my head, hoping that Carson isn’t still populated in front of me. But he is.

  “Are you happy now?” I ask, muted and angry.

  His beastly shoulders stiffen as his fuzzy hair dances in the hot, shifty air. “You shouldn’t have lied.”

  “I never did, Carson. You’re just so used to doing it yourself all the time, you can’t believe that I might’ve had an honest reason for all of this.”

  He crosses his muscly arms. “What the hell would that be?”

  I step closer to him, biding my angry hurt so I can speak clearly. “That even though I fell in love with him, I was already trying to let go. For you. For Lena. For Cale. Even for him.” I don’t know if Carson gets it, but I don’t care. “So there you go, Racecar. It’s just you and me again. You win.”

  “Joy, I wasn’t trying to beat you or something,” he says, with an oddly calm inflection. “You’re just not who you were.”

  I shake my head, tapping into anger. “Did it ever occur to you that being this way is suffocating?”

  The answer is all over his silent, slack-jawed face. It never did.

  TRACK 26 - THIS IS ON YOU

  JULY 29TH

  … auditioning as our lead vocalist… it’s your call… crossing our fingers…

  I’ve reread the email probably twenty times. I look at the date again.

  August 2nd, 4 pm. Yep, that’s troubling.

  Choppy warm air from a dusty fan travels over my heat-lazed
body. The three o’clock sun hits my bedroom window with ferocity. Apparently it’s a heatwave this week.

  It must be to melt my icy heart.

  Might be working. It’s kinda racing when I read the email again.

  It’s from Robbie Gonzalez, The Crux Constellation’s band manager. Turns out he decided to stop waiting for me to reach out and grabbed my email from an unused Facebook profile. Apparently, they don’t want to disband just because January, their lead singer, is headed off to London for grad school. I haven’t responded because… well, I’m too much of a mess to write an email.

  They want me to audition during a surprise pop-up concert, but there are two problems: the location and the date. The concert’s in Seattle, which is a four-hour drive. And that’s the day of FredU’s final mandatory orientation. The one I have to show up to if I want to attend classes.

  It’s also the same day Jin flies out from Seattle.

  So obviously I’m desperately avoiding that geographic location during that specific span of time. It would hurt too much to be that close to him as he flies off into a better life without me.

  Good thing I have the solid excuse of college dreams. If only they felt like my dreams.

  I press my phone to my chest. I should just write the email.

  There’s a knock at my door.

  “Joy Bear?” Carson says through the seam. I say nothing. I just stare at the nick in my door, willing him to go away.

  “I want to make it up to you. Please come out.” His voice is small, and it’s not just because it’s muffled by the door.

  He’s never said the words “I want to make it up to you.”

  “Why?” I say. The door cracks but not enough for me to see him.

  “Lena’s ghosting me, so I messaged Cale. He said you never lied about anything.”

  I throw my phone onto my down blanket.

  The air shifts when I yank open my door. “Oh, so you believe me now?”

  He jolts, like he’s a little kid afraid of a disciplinary smack. “Will you come to the backyard?”

  I stare up at him.

  “Please?”

  I follow him down the hall. I’ve been forced to pass that wall of pictures these past few days and my stomach lurches every time. Those happy kids feel so far away and fake, it hurts. I’ve mentally practiced a thousand conversations with my brother, but none of them went well.

  Carson always wins. Even in my dumb mind.

  He stops us in the kitchen. “I bought like four watermelons. Picked the best looking ones and knocked on them and everything. And I got you an iced coffee.” He holds out a sweating plastic cup. It’s black coffee.

  At least he remembered that I liked watermelons.

  “I always get a headache if I skip coffee,” he says, daring a smile.

  He’s right that I’ve got a massive headache. “Well, I can’t sleep if I drink caffeine after three pm,” I say, “And I never drink it black.”

  His smile falls and he puts it back on the counter. “Oh.” I feel bad for a split second. Then I remember what he did and I have no sympathy anymore.

  “Well, I cut some watermelon up. It’s in the backyard.” He tries to sound light, but it fails.

  I go with him through the back door anyway.

  It’s fatally hot out again, like the sun decided it likes physically assaulting the skin. I thought the AC inside was broken, but I was wrong. Dad must’ve just turned temp up to give the poor unit a break from working so hard.

  Mom’s frosted glass tray sits on the patio table, under the umbrella’s shade. It’s filled with watermelon triangles. There are three other whole watermelons on the table too, like Carson said.

  Carson squares himself to me, making direct eye contact. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  I snag a triangle and bite the sharp tip. The flesh is already warmer than it should be, but it’s sweet and juicy. I squint at my brother. Should I even consider forgiving him? Since he hasn’t apologized about shacking up with Lena, I’m undecided.

  “That’s it?” I finally say because my patience is hanging on a frayed thread.

  He swallows. “Uh, no.”

  I won’t lie, his struggle is gratifying. He’s so full of himself all the time that genuine apologies are like speaking a foreign language.

  I take another bite and raise my brows at him.

  “I’m sorry for yelling at, um, Jin. And making out with Lena.” He sounds like he’s admitting he stole a cookie.

  I’m chewing watermelon in my mouth when I add, “Behind my back.”

  “Yeah,” he says, dejected. “That. I’m sorry, Joy. Um… can you forgive me?”

  Now that he’s done it, I’ve decided. I savor this watermelon a bit before answering.

  Yum. “No.”

  “Okay…” Definitely not what he was expecting.

  I scrape my bottom teeth against the pink part that’s left, sucking on the juices. And maybe I’m a terrible person, but I enjoy watching him finally lose at something.

  “What else should I do?” he asks. At least it’s a genuine question.

  I flick the rind onto the deck. “Nothing,” I say, and I pluck another watermelon slice off the tray. I expect him to get mad. To flip the table or tell me that I’m a bitch or smash a window. And I promise myself I won’t react. I won’t give in this time.

  But Carson doesn’t get angry. He takes a sizable breath, and definitely concentrates on something inside his head for a minute.

  I keep eating. It really is a good watermelon.

  “Why?” he finally asks. “Why can’t I make it better?”

  “Good question,” I say, and I have this little idea. “Let me show you.”

  I take the biggest watermelon in both hands and carry it over to the grass, setting it on the ground. Then I turn around and walk back to the deck, while Carson watches me utterly confused.

  I snatch the baseball bat that’s leaning against the house next to the door. Maybe he’ll get it if he sees it in a familiar context.

  So I stand over the watermelon and point at it with the bat. “This represents my heart, okay? Here’s what happened when you showed me your little surprise.”

  I swing the bat down onto the watermelon with all my strength. The thunk leaves a sizable crack, most of the inner flesh visible, but it’s still held together. I look at Carson’s upturned brow. Good. At least some regret shows through.

  But there’s more.

  “And here’s how I feel now that I have no remaining friends, mostly because of you.” I throw another swing onto it, which splits it in two mangled chunks.

  Juice drips down the wooden bat. I sigh from the effort.

  “But you didn’t stop there, did you? You could have stopped, but you never do.”

  Carson’s mouth tenses downward.

  I smash the watermelon remains again. And again.

  “I’ve only ever fallen for one guy, Carson! But you showed up and told him I lied when I didn’t!” I slug the poor fruit one last time, but I’m shaky and out of breath. I stare down at the pile of pink pulp and green shards.

  My voice lowers. “And I let it happen. Because Jin deserves better than what you made me.” I toss the bat into the grass. “So what do you think? Do I have the heart to forgive you?”

  Carson’s eyes travel the span of our backyard where I murdered the watermelon. And there’s a glimmer of regret on the rim of his eye. I’ve seen him cry before, even as a grown man. He’s not void of emotion. The world has been cruel to him before.

  But this is different. He looks at me and breaks. For me. He hurts with me right now. And he can clearly see that the cruelty was his.

  He falls to his knees, witnessing the carnage. “I am so sorry.”

  Even though it’s the most genuine sentence I think he’s ever said, I’m not giving another inch. Not today. “I know you are.”

  I walk past him to go inside.

  “Joy, please,” he begs.

 
I pretend I haven’t heard him and walk through the door. He deserves to face this alone.

  When I’m inside, I find Dad in the kitchen, still dressed in his navy work suit. I pull the door a little too hard when I close it. Between the sharp sound of it shutting and Carson crumpled to his knees on the other side of the glass panes, Dad knows something’s up.

  He grabs an apple and takes a bite. “Your brother okay?” he asks. Fewest words possible, as usual.

  I adopt his method. “No.”

  He stops chewing, uncertain how to proceed. “What happened?”

  “Today, he didn’t win.” I weave past him and head for my room.

  But Dad speaks again, “Was there a game?”

  I halt. He’s already talking more than I expected him to.

  “Not anymore,” I say.

  “Joy.” I meet my Dad’s eyes through his coke bottle glasses. “What happened?”

  “He always just has to win, you know?” I say, my throat catching. I clear it.

  My dad blinks. “That’s not true.”

  I slam my hand on the counter. “It is! He’s a bad sport.”

  “Not true, Joy.”

  “Don’t defend him! You’re the one who's supposed to take my side.”

  “I don’t pick sides.”

  We stare each other down. He’s met his daily conversation quota, so I’m hoping he already exhausted himself and stops expecting me to elaborate.

  He doesn’t. Carson doesn’t get his stubbornness from Mom.

  “Carson loses to himself all the time,” he says. “Most of the time, you pick up the pieces.”

  “What if I don’t want to do that anymore? Why can’t he handle life without me?”

  “He’s trying.” Dad’s so sure of it, I know there’s something in what’s unsaid.

  “Really? How?”

  “Therapy. Last couple months.”

  I’m a bit in shock. “No one told me that.”

  “Carson didn’t want us to.”

  I can gather what’s unsaid now. Carson wants me to be proud of him. Needing therapy bruised his ego. And he’s enough of an idiot to think I’d consider him weak for going.

  Was that what that was? Him trying?

  Even though he sucks for hooking up with Lena, and he sucks for charging at me and Jin the way did, and he really sucks for thinking it could all be forgiven with some cut up fruit…