Page 100 of Disharmony

thirty-seven

Ash

“I’m fine, Dad,” I reassure his flickering face on Cookie’s laptop screen. The connection is shitty. “Honestly, I am. How many times do I need to tell you that it’s no big deal?”

The only solace of having my cell taken away is Dad can only contact me when I call him from the camp phone, or Brick arranges a weekly video call when Dad eats with the Langford family. He’s hopeless with technology, and Brick’s mom makes sure he eats some vegetables, so it works out nicely.

“Ash can handle herself,” Brick chips in. “Trust me, I’ve seen her sucker punch a jock before.”

I pout. “That bastard deserved it.”

“Language,” Dad tuts, but his mouth twitches up at the corners. He’s pleased at how his self-defense training came in handy when a handsy guy made the mistake of grabbing my ass.

I roll my eyes. “Sorry, Dad.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff Cooper,” Cookie pipes up behind me. “I’ll look after her.”

Since we’ve been using her laptop to talk without worry of Camp Harmony staff monitoring us, Dad and Brick have been getting to know my roommate. She’s already invited herself to stay over vacation, and Dad’s overjoyed that I’ve made a friend that’s not Brick.

Brick’s mom calls that their dinner is ready in the background.

I wave at the two of them. “I’ll speak to you next week.”

“No more singing with rockstars,” Dad grumbles, as I disconnect the call.

I snap the laptop lid closed. My jaw hurts from fake smiling as I collapse onto my bed with a huff.

“You lied to them about going to the open-mic,” Cookie points out.

“Yeah, I’m perfectly aware of what I’ve said,” I snap.

Dad worries about me enough, it’s easier to let him believe I’m having the time of my life. Being here is what I’ve wanted for years after all.

“You’ve not been yourself since the night with the Basilisks,” Cookie says. A few weeks have passed, but it feels like ages. “You can’t sit around and mope forever.”

“Try me,” I shoot back, getting up to grab my tub of chocolate frosting that I begged Claudia to give me.

After the video of me singing with the Basilisks was released, my leper status in camp has increased. Tiffany and the Lockets’ snide remarks are growing unbearable, convinced I did it for attention. A few days ago, the wordFREAKwas graffitied over the side of our cabin, which I’m sure was their work.

“We’ve only got three weeks to go until the final show,” Cookie reminds me as I cram a giant spoonful of sugary goodness into my mouth.

How can I forget? It’s all everyone talks about—that, and who will be selected to go on Popstarz. Tiffany, of course, is already acting like she’s won. Jacqueline’s influence has forced McCallister to keep me in the final show line-up. Humming behind Tiffany in rehearsals like a good girl makes my blood boil.

I power up Cookie’s laptop again. I have a sneaking suspicion my new camp-supplied one will have every key stroke tapped, so I use hers whenever I want to search for something… like whether there is any news on what the Basilisks are up to.

Since their private show at The Smoker, they’ve gone quiet. It’s not unusual for them. They spend a lot of time off-grid doing whatever masked singers do when they aren’t performing. I wonder whether they’re still working on their new album or recording the song we worked on. To make matters worse, all my notes from our time together are lost. My lyrics book is missing, and the last place I had it was on the bus with the Basilisks.

“You’re searching for them again, aren’t you?” Cookie waves her hand in front of my dazed face. “Are you even listening to me?”

I jerk myself back to reality, not realizing she’s been talking this whole time. “Sorry, what?”

“I said, you can’t let this ruin your summer,” she says gently. “I don’t know what happened on that date…”

“It wasn’t a date,” I say hastily. “I helped with their music.”

It’s not exactly a lie. That was my reason for going, but I omit the part where the three of them fucked me. Even thinking about it sends a shot of desire between my thighs, and I’ve had to take a lot of cold showers recently. I never thought I’d be into group sex, but the Basilisks unlocked my wild side. A part of myself I’ve had to cage in camp and in my hometown.

“So you keep saying…” Cookie isn’t believing a word of it. “You wouldn’t be this upset about not being able to speak to them after a music practice if there wasn’t more to it. Do you think I’m an idiot?” She taps her binder in her hands. “I notice everything.”

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