Sunkissed, Kasie West [best authors to read TXT] 📗

I tried to clear my mind, think about my future, college, teaching, like my mom. But all I could see was Lauren’s disappointed face when I’d said I couldn’t sing. And Brooks’s shrug when I’d said I was sorry. I tried to picture myself onstage, a microphone in hand, a crowd of people waiting, watching, and panic immediately gripped my chest.

Maricela squeezed my hand and I realized I was breathing fast. I relaxed my shoulders and shook away those thoughts. I needed to try something new tomorrow, I decided. Get back to my goal of discovering myself. Picture something new you can try, I told my brain. But I was left with only blackness. Brooks would help me think of something.

I froze.

Wait, Brooks wasn’t doing the festival anymore. I no longer needed to help him write a song. Did this mean our deal was off? He wouldn’t help me anymore either?

My eyes flew open to look at him, but I couldn’t see a thing.

Maricela let go of my hand and picked up her flashlight. “I hope the moon grants you everything you desire,” she said.

“I don’t trust the moon,” Kai said. “She’s shady.”

“Was that a pun?” I asked.

Tia giggled again next to me. Maricela playfully hit Kai’s arm and he laughed.

Clay, across the circle, said, “My wish right now is to get back across the lake without getting caught.”

Maricela, light pointed at her face, rolled her eyes. “None of you took this seriously. No wishes for any of you.” I could see the hint of a smile on her lips as she said it. “Let’s go.”

I climbed to my feet. And as the group dispersed, I took several quick steps, trying to see which shadowed form was Brooks, when Clay stepped up beside me.

He draped his arm across my shoulder in a friendly manner. “Need any more random experiences to answer obscure college essay questions?”

“You have no idea,” I said.

Maricela, who was now on the other side of Clay, said, much louder than necessary, “How about a late-night swim in the light of a new moon?”

“How about a late-night skinny-dip in a new moon?” Clay said with a laugh.

“Did someone say skinny-dip?” Kai asked.

My light was pointing ahead, so when Brooks glanced back, I could see his face clearly—a flash of hurt or disappointment or maybe something else entirely.

I shrugged Clay’s arm off my shoulder and quickened my pace, wanting to clarify that what just happened had nothing to do with Clay or Mari helping me to discover myself and was just a stupid joke. But Brooks stepped up to the canoe that already had Lucy and Tia inside and pushed it farther into the water. Then he climbed inside and they were off.

“Who’s ready for crazy Fourth of July week?” Mari said, stepping into the other canoe.

“Is it worse than normal?” Kai asked.

“Our highest occupancy rate of the year. And everyone seems to think celebrating their independence means demanding free things.”

Fourth of July. Was it already almost the Fourth?

“What did you ask the moon for?” Maricela said, taking the seat in front of mine.

“That’s between me and the moon,” I said with a smile.

“Well, I hope you didn’t ask it for a certain boy we both know, because he’s a mess.”

“I didn’t.” And that was the truth.

As we rode back across the dark lake, I stared up at the sky full of stars. Just help me to know what I want. A few signs wouldn’t hurt.

I shouldn’t have asked for signs, even if I didn’t believe in them, because it made me read into everything that happened that week. It started the next morning at breakfast.

I was stirring my oatmeal when my mom asked, out of the blue, “Remember when you used to sing in that elite choir at school?”

My eyes shot to my sister. She held up her hands. “I did not say anything.”

“What?” Mom said.

“Why did you bring that up?” I asked, adding another scoop of brown sugar to my bowl.

“I don’t know. I just remembered how much you loved it.”

“I remember that. What made you quit choir?” Dad asked.

“You honestly don’t remember?” I asked, my agitation growing. Lauren had to have said something to them. She obviously didn’t spell it out because if she actually told them she wanted me to sing in a festival with an employee, they would say no. Maybe I should tell them and shut this down right here and now.

“No, I don’t remember,” Dad said.

“I ran off the stage in the middle of a concert because I froze up. Forgot my part,” I said. “The whole audience laughed.”

“Oh yeah,” Mom said. “I had forgotten that too.”

How could they have forgotten one of the most humiliating days of my life? “Well, I haven’t,” I said.

“Maybe it’s time,” Lauren said, “to replace that awful failure with a triumphant success.”

“Maybe it’s time,” I said, standing up, “for you to think of a new documentary you can create this summer.” I placed my half-empty oatmeal bowl in the sink and filled it with water. “Maybe it can star the lifeguards or the cooks.”

“Stellar ideas, Avery,” Lauren said. “Those sound like blockbusters.”

“What is going on with you two?” Dad asked, but he was really staring at me. He wasn’t used to seeing me lose my cool. “What documentary?”

“Nothing,” I said, and Lauren chimed in with, “Beyond nothing.”

Maricela was right—Fourth of July week had the camp bursting at the seams with the influx of new guests. Every table in the dining hall was full that week. The walkways were teeming with people, the lodge activities had sign-ins and waiting lists, the swimming pool reached its max capacity. But that didn’t stop me from putting on my swimsuit and heading for the Slip ’N Slide midweek. We’d been here awhile and I still hadn’t tried it.

There was a line at the slide. It snaked halfway down the hill and then took a sharp turn