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

the back of my mind since the day before. I needed some closure and I was sure she did too. Whether that was forgiving her or moving on without her, I wanted to give us both that answer before the end of summer.

I took a breath in through my nose and as I exhaled, the phone rang. My first instinct was to pick it up, but I hesitated. I looked to my left, toward the closest cabins, and it rang again. Most employees were on their shift; that’s where Brooks was. It was just after ten in the morning. So when it rang a third time, I picked it up.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi, can I speak with Brooks?” It was a woman on the other end, her voice confident and to the point.

“Um, he’s not close by. Can I take a message and have him call you back when I see him?”

“Sure, this is his mom, Teresa. Will you let him know I called?”

“Is everything okay?” I said without thinking.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, this is Avery, his…” Had he told his mother about me? I guessed the only people he’d told were his friends here at camp. He’d said he and his mom weren’t exactly on the best terms. “Friend.”

Maricela appeared around the building and she pointed at herself and mouthed, “Is it for me?”

I shook my head. “Brooks. His mom.”

“Hi, Teresa!” Maricela yelled out. “Ask her if she’s going to the festival!” Did that mean Brooks had told his mom about the festival? Last I’d heard, he thought she’d be too busy to come.

“Who is that?” Teresa asked.

“Maricela. Here, she wants to talk to you.”

I handed the phone over.

“Hi!” Maricela said into the phone like they were old friends, which didn’t surprise me. Maricela made friends fast and easily. “No, the festival. It’s Saturday in Roseville…Yes, you should come…Oh, he probably just didn’t want to inconvenience you.”

So Brooks hadn’t told her and now Maricela was extending an invite? I wondered how he’d feel about that.

“Yes, I’ll tell him you called. Tell Finn I say hey…Okay, bye.”

She hung up and then turned toward me. “Hi!”

“You know Brooks’s mom?”

“Not really, but between last summer and this one, I’ve answered at least a half dozen phone calls from her or his brother.”

“Finn.”

“Right.”

“What did she say about coming to the festival?” I asked.

“She said that punk didn’t invite her. Good thing I did.”

I held up my hands. “And you make sure he knows I had nothing to do with that.”

“Chicken,” she said.

“I already told you once this summer that I definitely am.”

“You are not.”

An uneasiness settled into my stomach and I wanted it to go away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Maricela asked. “A little context, please.”

“That Ian was back. When I saw you last night?”

“I thought you knew! I thought that’s why you were going to band practice.”

I felt myself nodding or at least attempting to.

“You didn’t know…”

This time I definitely shook my head.

“Come here. Let’s talk.” She pulled me to her cabin and inside, where she shut the door.

I sat on the pile of clothes on the extra bed, not bothering to move them.

“So Brooks didn’t tell you about Ian?” She sat on the bed opposite me.

“He couldn’t. I was grounded. He thought I wasn’t going to be able to sing.”

“But you got permission?”

“Yes.”

“But…?” She circled her hand in the air, encouraging me to continue.

“But Ian is back.”

“Wait, Ian’s still singing even though you got permission?”

“It’s their band, not mine,” I said.

“What?” Her voice rose an octave. “That’s dumb! You secured the spot at the festival, not Ian.”

“I mean, technically. But I only sang because Ian was gone. And now he’s back…It’s better this way.”

“How so?”

“I’m not good at stuff like that.”

“Stuff like what?” she asked.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Singing onstage.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And yet obviously you are since…you know…you made the festival.”

“This is their thing,” I said. “I can’t take it from them.”

“Huh,” Maricela said.

“What?”

She held up both her hands. “Nothing. This isn’t my life. It’s yours. I’m going to trust your decision.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Now, tell me everything that’s been going on with you the last week.”

“How is band practice going?” I was sitting on the floor in Brooks’s cabin after lunch a couple days later. It was his day off, so I felt like I wasn’t breaking any rules. Plus, I’d brought my homework. I hadn’t worked on it all summer and I was way behind. “You guys going to be ready in three days?”

He was reading over my government assignment. He looked up with my question. “I’d forgotten how much we all fight, but yes, we’ll be ready.”

“The pros of a two-person band,” I said.

He bit his lip, the worry line between his brows back.

Why had I said that? “Sorry, I just meant that fewer people equals less fighting.”

“It really does.” He handed me the paper. “I think it’s just asking you to draw out the government branches in an actual tree form.”

“Like literally draw a tree?”

“It seems like it.”

“I did that in elementary school,” I said. “I guess I should’ve saved my work.”

He smiled. Brooks was a little different in his room, more relaxed. His shoes were off, his hair was ruffled, and he was smiling so much easier. I liked seeing him this way.

While I began drawing a tree on a paper, he picked up his guitar, sat down on his bed, and began to play.

“Have I mentioned that you’re an amazing guitar player?” I said.

“I’m showing off for you,” he said. “So you’ll think I’m cool.” He was teasing me for how I’d called him cool the other day outside my cabin.

“Be careful or I’ll take it back,” I said.

He smirked, put his guitar off to the side, and crawled to where I sat.

I help up my hand with a laugh. “Don’t, I’m trying to work.”

“Don’t what?” He rounded my outstretched hand and kissed my neck.

“Homework. Homework needs to