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

The expressions on their faces didn’t look any softer than they had a week ago despite all the quality family time we’d been having.

“Well, girls,” Dad said when we sat on the couch. “You are officially free.”

“But there’s a twist,” Lauren said in an operatic voice.

I didn’t think her joking was going to help in this moment, so I held up the letter. “Can I read you something?” I asked, looking at Mom, then Dad.

They exchanged their own look but Mom said, “Yes, go ahead.”

I cleared my throat. “Mom, Dad…”

“Countrymen,” Lauren said.

“Lauren, please,” I pleaded.

“Wait, just wait,” Lauren said. “I have something we should all watch first.”

“What?” I said, dumbfounded.

She held up her laptop, which I hadn’t realized she’d been hugging to her chest.

“Lauren, do you have to do this right now?” I asked, shaking the letter.

“Believe me, I do.”

I sighed and Dad nodded the go-ahead. She put the laptop on the ottoman and forced us all to squeeze onto the couch so we could see better. Then she pushed play.

Some footage of the band came on the screen from one of the nights before Ian got hurt. I wasn’t sure Lauren showing my parents the half-finished band documentary would change their minds about me singing, but maybe it would help them get to know the guys better, which was actually a good idea.

The music rang out of the small speakers of her computer.

Just when I thought the video was going to cut to an interview with Kai or Ian, the camera panned over to me, sitting there, listening to the band play. I had the biggest smile on my face as I watched. The video zoomed closer and closer to my face and that look of happiness. When the song was over, the me on the computer screen clasped her hands together in a giddy gesture. I hadn’t realized I’d done that at all.

Then the video faded and a phone screen filled the picture. I remembered when Lauren had grabbed my phone earlier in the summer and had recorded a video of her scrolling through one of my playlists. “Do you know how many songs you have on here?” she asked on the video.

“No,” I’d said. “A lot.”

“More than one person could listen to if they listened to music every day for a thousand years.”

“Too bad most of them aren’t downloaded.” I’d made a face at that. “Can I have my phone back?”

She flipped the camera to her own face and whispered, “Avery loves music. It’s a sickness. Someone get this girl help.”

That day, I’d been too busy exiting out of the screens she’d opened on my phone to actually hear what she’d been saying to her phone.

The next cut was to a scene of me lying on my bed and staring at the love song lyrics I’d been working on. I was repeating lines over and over and then mumbling, “No, that’s not quite right. What would be better? Hark? No, park…missed my…mark!” I’d looked over at Lauren. “Dark and mark! It was so obvious.”

“Sure was,” Lauren had said.

Screen me nodded absentmindedly and scribbled the words on the page.

Another cut and I was sitting on my bed cross-legged, holding a different paper in my hand, practicing what I wanted to say to our parents tonight. I hadn’t realized she was recording.

“Mom, Dad, I have been holed up in my room a lot of this week, causing me to have clarity on many issues.”

“Did you really use my ‘holed up’ suggestion?” Lauren asked.

Screen me turned the paper toward her and pointed.

“I thought you’d replace it with some of your fancy words.”

“No, I liked it. Now stop interrupting.”

She tilted the camera slightly so the view was on her and she rolled her eyes at the camera. “Fine, keep going, then.”

Screen Me went on. “I am not arguing the fact that I definitely should’ve had consequences for my actions.”

“And Lauren shouldn’t have had any,” video Lauren whispered.

“Do you want me to add that?”

“No, everyone already knows it.”

“I understand that lying leads to losing your trust. I hope that by being completely honest now, I might gain some of it back.”

“They’re going to like that part,” Lauren said.

“I’m not saying it because I think they’re going to like it. I really do believe that,” Screen Me said.

“I know, I know,” Lauren said. “Continue.”

“Several weeks ago, Dad, you mentioned offhand to a perfect stranger how amazing and creative Lauren was and how bright and exciting her future looked. In basically the next breath, you called me laid-back and predictable. Ever since then, I’ve been on a journey, of sorts, to discover something exciting within me. So when this opportunity to sing for a festival arrived, I felt everything was pushing me to do it.”

I glanced over at my dad, who was watching the video intently, and his eyes looked sad.

Screen Me continued. “I hadn’t intended to lie when this all started. I genuinely thought that I’d sing and realize I couldn’t do this at all, just like all the other things I’ve been trying for the last several weeks. But then I did…and I enjoyed it…and it felt too late to come clean.”

“Come clean makes it sound worse than it is,” Lauren said on the video. “Mom and Dad are easily led. Pick the right words.”

Lauren, on the couch next to me, coughed. “I meant to edit that part out,” she whispered.

Dad chuckled a little and for the first time since I sat down, a little hope blossomed in my chest. I enjoyed hope.

“And so,” Screen Me continued, “I am begging you that I might be able to sing at this festival with someone who has helped me see that I’m not boring and predictable.”

Lauren kept recording as I gave a fake bow.

“What do you think?” Screen Me asked.

“I can make it work.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Go shower.”

I’d left the room and Lauren pointed the camera at herself. “I mean, no wonder she’s everyone’s favorite.”

The video cut back to band practice. This time