Drum Roll, Please

by Lisa Jenn Bigelow

  “Wow.” The word slipped from my mouth.

  “Wow is right,” Candace said.

  Toni’s face split into a grin. “So, you two think you can work with that?”

  “How do you do that?” I said. “I know a thing or two about limb independence, but for me, it’s just rhythm. You were playing one tune with your right hand, and playing a different one with your left hand, and singing a third.”

  Toni shrugged. “Guess I’m just awesome. You should hear me when I’ve got my looper pedal with me. I’m a freaking one-girl band.”

  “And so modest,” Candace teased.

  “I’ve never hidden my light under a bushel, and I’m not about to start now,” said Toni. “Come on, ladies. Let’s get to it. I’ve got a date with the beach after this.”

  We got to it. I couldn’t remember ever playing drums to a rap song before. Not for the first time since coming to camp, I realized there were more gaps in Olivia’s playlists than I’d ever stopped to think about. There was a whole galaxy of music out there, expanding every second, and I knew just a few little stars.

  Candace played tentatively at first, bowing long notes in the background. But as Toni’s lyrics grew bolder, Candace did as well, layering on a whole new voice with her violin.

  I kept things simple. I didn’t want to distract one bit from Toni. My drums were simply the beat her hands were dancing to. At the same time, I tried to hold on to what Donna had said. Relax. You don’t have to be perfect. Toni asked you to be her drummer for a reason. Stop judging yourself, and own it. And I discovered the more energy I put into the drums, the more they fueled Toni’s performance.

  By the end, the song was downright intense. It was catchy, too. I’d be earwormed for the rest of the day.

  “I knew I made the right choice with you two,” Toni said. “Try it again from the top?”

  Breathlessly we nodded. We played hard for another half hour.

  Afterward I told Candace, “I’ve never seen anyone groove like that on violin before.”

  She grinned. “Thanks. My parents made me start learning classical when I was three, and I’m in the kids’ symphony orchestra back home. But my soul belongs to rock ’n’ roll.”

  I swung my stick bag over my shoulder. I was halfway out the door when Candace said, “Melly? Is Olivia mad at me?”

  I turned and stared. “Um, yeah. I’m pretty sure.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “Well . . . because . . . Noel.”

  Candace frowned. “But she knows I had nothing to do with what happened, right?”

  “Didn’t you? Last week, Noel liked Olivia, or it sure seemed that way. Now he likes you.”

  “I didn’t steal him, Melly,” she said. “I swear. He decided he didn’t like her anymore all on his own. If she’s going to get mad at someone, she should get mad at him, not me.”

  “She’s mad at him, too,” I said. “But what you did, jumping into her spot? Can you blame her for being upset?”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Candace said helplessly. “I’ve liked him for years. Now that he’s noticed me, I’m supposed to tell him no, just so I don’t hurt Olivia’s feelings?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

  The truth was I wasn’t sure. Why should Candace sacrifice her happiness for Olivia’s? Noel was the one who’d broken Olivia’s heart. Maybe it didn’t matter what Candace did. Maybe it didn’t matter what anyone did, as long as they made themselves happy. Maybe.

  “Still,” Candace said, “do you think you could talk to her? Things at band practice have been super awkward the past few days, and we need to focus on our performance on Saturday.”

  My mouth moved to say yes. The word almost escaped my lips. I stopped just in time. Olivia’s drama was half the reason I now had my own. Did I really want to get sucked in?

  “I think you and Olivia need to work this one out on your own,” I said. And I left.

  Twenty-Three

  That night, it was my turn to freak out about what to wear to the open mic. All my clothes were wrinkled and damp and smelled like mushrooms.

  “You can’t wear that,” Olivia said to my first choice, a T-shirt with different flavors of donuts printed on it. Mom had bought it for me, thinking it was cute. I thought so, too, until I tried it on and realized two of the donuts were located in the two worst possible places for donuts to be.

  I made a face. “It’s the only clean thing I have left, besides underwear.”

  “Well, you can’t just wear underwear!”

  “Believe it or not, I’m aware of that,” I said.

  Olivia picked through my suitcase. She pulled out a wad of paper. “What’s this?”

  “Nothing!” I peeled it from her grasp.

  “Is that one of the letters from your parents? Why is it all crumpled up?”

  “It’s just garbage,” I said, throwing it back into the suitcase. “Who cares? Now are you going to help me find something to wear or not?”

  Olivia gave me a weird look. “Okay, chill. Wear this.” She handed me a tank top with a butterfly on it.

  “I wore that last week.”

  “Yeah, but there’s no stains on it, and it doesn’t have armpits, so it can’t smell that bad.”

  I sniffed it. It had the same damp suitcase smell everything had, but that was it.

  “And I’ve got to do your makeup,” Toni told me.

  “Me next, please,” Shauna said, twirling across the tent. She’d been chosen, too. She wore full cow woman regalia, including a hat she’d gotten who knew where.

  Finally we were ready to leave.

  At the lodge, the four of us grabbed seats together near the stage. It was so different from last week, when Olivia ditched me for Noel. When Adeline nabbed me and I felt something change. My stomach twisted, and it wasn’t just nerves. It was regret.

  The pressure of opening fell to Shauna and her posse of Bass Cliff boys, who performed one of her feisty country anthems. It was hilarious in all the right ways. Everyone laughed and cheered. It was the reminder I needed that Camp Rockaway was the friendliest crowd ever.

  Toni, Candace, and I were only third in the lineup, thankfully. I didn’t have to spend too much time biting my nails. I hadn’t been on a stage since our school’s spring concert. Sitting behind the drums, squinting into the darkened room, dozens of people staring up at us from the audience, I remembered all at once how powerful and terrified all of this made me feel.

  Relax. Let go. These are your friends, and they want to see you rock. It helped that Toni didn’t betray a single raw nerve. I couldn’t stay very anxious with her in the lead.

  The true sign we’d won over our audience was when they started to clap along. Suddenly I wasn’t alone on percussion. I was one drummer among dozens—but I was the leader. I held down the beat, and the audience followed. As for Toni, she was dynamite, all right, exploding with energy as her voice bounced off the walls of the lodge.

  My friends hugged me as we came down from the stage and took our seats. My hands shook as I drank the lemonade waiting for me, but gradually I settled back in my chair—that is, until Damon said, “Now we have Adeline, performing an original song she calls ‘Headlights.’ Please welcome her to the stage!”

  Adeline walked onstage alone. Her outfit wasn’t fancy. She wasn’t wearing makeup. The lights picked up every scar on the surface of her guitar. And somehow she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Realizing that hurt.

  She swung her guitar strap over her shoulder and adjusted the microphones, one for guitar, one for vocals. She looked solemnly into the darkness in the back of the lodge for a moment. Then she smiled and leaned into the mic. “Thanks,” she said. She began to strum. She began to sing.

  Gray skies, seems the rain will never end

  Lonely, I could really use a friend

  I thought you were just like me

  Now I don’t know, gotta wait and see

  Wish I could be
wherever you are

  Whether it’s Michigan, whether it’s Mars

  Rain wouldn’t matter, riding in our car

  The streetlights like planets, the headlights like stars

  Adeline picked up the pace, plucking at the strings, thumping on the body of her guitar, while I sat rigid. I was hot. I was cold. I’d been struck through the heart by lightning. She’d written this song with my words from the balcony. The message couldn’t have been clearer. The kiss had not been an accident.

  Rain’s stopped, but the clouds won’t go away

  Sun shines, but it’s never here to stay

  I’m waiting for you to come around

  I worry you don’t like what you’ve found

  Wish I could be wherever you are

  Whether it’s Michigan, whether it’s Mars

  Rain wouldn’t matter, riding in our car

  The streetlights like planets, the headlights like stars

  I’m waiting for you, I’m waiting for you, I’m waiting for you to come around. . . .

  The whole hall was clapping along, except for me.

  No wonder Adeline had been hurt. I’d been blaming Olivia’s jealousy for the distance between us, but I’d never stood up to her—and why? Was our friendship so fragile? Sure, I wanted Olivia to be happy, but what about me? Didn’t I deserve to be happy, too? And if Olivia was really my best friend, wouldn’t she want me to be?

  Oh. The realization sank in my stomach. I knew I was unhappy, and why, but did Olivia? I’d hidden so much from her the past week and a half, pretending everything was fine. I’d said I’m okay a hundred times—every time she’d asked. I’d never given her a chance to understand.

  As the lights came up after the show, I turned to Olivia. “We need to talk.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You realize how ominous that sounds.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “You don’t need to be worried. I don’t think.”

  “Comforting,” Olivia said. “Okay. Let’s talk. But when?”

  “After lights-out. After the others are asleep. We can go to the fire circle.”

  My stomach somersaulted as I lay in the darkness later waiting for Toni’s and Shauna’s breathing to slow. Olivia and I had agreed not to talk after we got into bed, so the conversation lost steam quickly. When I could no longer hear voices murmuring across the campsite, I whispered Olivia’s name. We ducked out from our netting and padded out of the tent, not bothering with our shoes. The earth was cool under my feet and dusted with soft, dry leaves.

  We sat on the same log bench. I leaned over and hugged my knees. Adeline’s song had given me a shot of bravery, but was it enough to get me through the things I needed to say?

  Olivia waited for a long moment before saying, “It’s kind of cold out here, Mel.”

  It was. I’d thought my shivering was just nerves, but in the woods, in the dark, it was chilly—and we were only wearing our pajamas. “I have to tell you something,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Olivia said. “I kind of got that.” Her voice softened. “Is it about your parents?”

  “No,” I said. “But since you mentioned it, there’s something I need to tell you about them, too.” I wrung the hem of my pajamas, twisting it back and forth, back and forth. It grew damp in my palms.

  Olivia reached out a hand and took one of mine. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s been a hard couple of weeks,” I said.

  Olivia squeezed. “I know.”

  “First the divorce. And then coming here, when I didn’t want to. And suddenly you had this crush on Noel and were always with him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “I was sort of awful. And he totally wasn’t worth it. But Melly—I told you if you needed me, I’d be there.”

  “I was doing fine, mostly,” I said. “I was making new friends, too. I was having fun.”

  “Then what happened?”

  Noel ditched you? Adeline kissed me? David tried?

  “My dad told me why they’re getting divorced,” I blurted.

  Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “He did? So what’s the big reason? Is it an affair?”

  I shrugged. “There is no big reason. He says they just fell out of love.”

  “That’s it?” Olivia said. “Well . . . well, that’s not a very satisfying explanation.”

  “Right?” Her reaction was so much like my own that I giggled—but I choked on it. Tears welled in my eyes. I pulled a sleeve over my wrist and wiped my face. “He says they’re still friends. Couldn’t they stay friends in the same house? Did they even stop to think how I’d feel?”

  “Oh, Melly.” Olivia let go of my hand, but only to put her arm around my shoulders. “Trust me, I want to beat up your mom and dad for making you feel this way. But they’re good people. I’m pretty sure they feel terrible right now.”

  “They don’t sound like it in their letters,” I said. “Mom’s redoing the bathroom.”

  “Yes, because redoing the bathroom is a sure sign someone is feeling fantastic,” Olivia said. We both giggled this time, and then we laughed harder at the giggle.

  That’s when I said, “Adeline kissed me.”

  Olivia clapped her hands to her mouth. “What? What do you mean she kissed you?”

  I blushed. “She kissed me. On Sunday. On the HydroBlaster.”

  “The Hydro-what?”

  “This ride at Michigan’s Adventure. We were sitting in the dark, on this raft, waiting to go down the water slide. And it just sort of happened.”

  “No way. Kisses do not just sort of happen.”

  I shrugged, and even though things with Adeline were totally weird right now, the memory put a stupid grin on my face. Whatever happened next, nothing could undo that kiss.

  “Well.” Olivia seemed at a loss for words. “Did you want her to? What was it like?”

  “Um.” I fidgeted. I wanted her to know the truth, but I wished she could just know without me having to explain it. “It was like a total surprise. But . . . not a bad surprise.”

  She shook her head. “Oh my God. Melly, are you gay?”

  “I don’t know!” I said. My crush on Arjit had been real, even if it wasn’t as deep. But the past two weeks had been filled with surprises. There’d be more around the bend. How was I supposed to know what would happen? “It was only one kiss, Olivia.”

  “But if you liked it—”

  “Would it matter to you? If I was?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean . . . for crying out loud, you’re my best friend! Nothing’s going to change that.”

  “I know,” I said, believing it. “And you’re mine.”

  “My best friend got her first kiss,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “Melly, I can’t believe you beat me.”

  I nudged her in the ribs. “That’s not true. Remember Stella’s party.”

  “That didn’t count. That was on a dare. You got a real kiss.”

  “I didn’t know it was a race.”

  “I didn’t either! But now that I’ve lost, I’m feeling pretty low.” She grinned ruefully. “Look. If you’re happy, I’m happy. ’K?”

  “’K,” I said, but my smile faded. I took a deep breath. “The thing is, I’m not. Since it happened, Adeline and I have barely talked. First I thought what happened was maybe an accident, and then you were mad at me, and then I said some things she took the wrong way, and it’s turned into a big mess. But I want to fix things.”

  “Oh, Mel,” said Olivia. “I wish I’d known. I would’ve been so much nicer to her.”

  “You weren’t completely wrong,” I said. “I’ve only known her a week and a half. I’ve known you my whole life. On Sunday, all I wanted was to be with her, and I left you behind.”

  She exhaled, her bangs lifting from her forehead. “All right, yes, that was crappy. And I still would’ve gotten mad at you. But maybe I would’ve understood better. Maybe I would’ve been happy for you instead of jealous. I would’ve know
n you weren’t leaving me for good.”

  My heart broke at the idea, and so did my voice. “I could never.”

  My best friend put her arms around me, a full-on hug this time, cradling my feelings as if they were her own.

  Twenty-Four

  “I told Olivia everything,” I said to Adeline the second I walked into practice.

  Her eyes went wide. “And?”

  Caleb and David pushed through the door with their instruments, and Donna clapped her hands. “All right, people. We’re at T minus forty-eight hours, and it’s time for the training wheels to come off. Show me we haven’t been wasting our time for the past week and a half.”

  “Let’s talk after,” I said. Adeline nodded.

  David pulled the tie-dyed bandanna out of his bass case and wrapped it around his head. “I hope it’s okay if I wear this,” he mumbled.

  “Of course,” I said as casually as I could. “That’s why I gave it to you.”

  We seemed to have agreed, without saying as much, to pretend nothing had happened between us. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel weird to look into the eyes of the boy who’d tried to kiss me on the worst of all possible days, but practice went much better all the same.

  Donna stopped us a few minutes early. “Two days, and you’ll be onstage in front of hundreds of people. Whatever was off yesterday, you seem to have gotten over the hump. But you still need to finalize your set list and choose a name.”

  “I like our version of ‘Enter Sandman,’” Adeline said.

  “All right.” Donna jotted it on the chalkboard. “What else?”

  “I guess we could do ‘I Knew You Were Trouble,’” Caleb said grudgingly. “As long as we do the metal version.”

  “Great. There’s room for one more,” Donna said. “What’ll it be?”

  That’s when the arguing began. Caleb wanted “Pulse of the Maggots.” Adeline wanted “Landslide.” Angry voices collided in the cabin’s cramped quarters.

  Donna interrupted. “Melly. David. What do you think?”

  “Either would be fine with me,” I said, squirming. I think Donna was hoping I’d say “Rebel Girl,” and I sort of wanted to. But something stopped me. Maybe I didn’t want to jump in the middle of the argument. Or maybe I still wasn’t ready to own it.