Page 121 of Disharmony

We’re getting ready to perform the final song of the set. The song with my solo. It’s a cover ofWrecking Ballwith a slower twist. Tiffany starts, her soft voice fills through the clearing. She sounds like a fucking innocent angel whenever she opens her mouth, the opposite to her usual whiney bitch tone. Her mom’s money has been put to good use.

I scan the campers’ faces in the audience. Everyone has come to watch the final rehearsal, including Jacqueline. She nods along, taking in every aspect of the show. At her side, the Lionhearts don’t look as engaged. Levi scribbles in his notebook, the one I recognize from the afternoon I helped him with lyrics. Next to him, Zach sits up straight to give the illusion he’s paying attention, but I have a suspicion his attentive act is for appearance only. Unlike Zach, Damon isn’t pretending, he actually has the audacity to yawn.

Tiffany’s chorus comes to an end. We transition into a short dance interlude, followed by a dramatic puff of purple smoke. I’m not a fan of smoke machines. As cool as they look, it took a few days of practicing for the dense vapor not to stick in my throat every time I opened my mouth.

I step through the foggy haze into the center of the stage and take the microphone. Unlike Tiffany, who performs while dancing impeccably, McCallister and Desiree thought it was a safer bet for me to stay stationary.

My fingers grasp the mic, and I start singing. The words are so familiar, singing them is effortless and they seem to materialize out of thin air. When I’m done with my part, I’m surrounded by gray fog and return to my place in the shadows. As I step back, a faint applause breaks over the music.

It’s not until I’ve returned to my usual spot that I see Jacqueline grinning smugly and putting her hands back in her lap. Her clapping didn’t go unnoticed by Tiffany. When she returns to sing the next verse, her confidence is shaken. She comes in too strong, trying to overcompensate, which makes her fall off-key. Then, the song ends… and the lights fade to black.

Tears sparkle in Tiffany’s eyes as she turns around. If she didn’t act like such a bitch, I might feel sorry for her. She flounces past, into the backroom, and the Lockets trail after her. McCallister vacates his position in the front row and storms away to join her, presumably to speak about her slip-up. Her error wasn’t bad enough to be picked up by an audience, but everyone who attended rehearsals over the past few weeks knows she fucked up.

I should be flattered that Jacqueline chose to single me out, but it leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that I can’t shake. The shrewd twinkle in her eyes signals she has plans for me, and I don’t think that’s a good thing…

“Well done, Ash!” Cookie throws her arms around my neck and hugs me. It’s the day before the big show, and I need to stop worrying about Jacqueline. I’m being paranoid. Nerves and irrational thoughts go together, right? “You were amazing out there! It was your best performance yet.”

“Let’s hope I can pull it off tomorrow,” I say with a nervous laugh as Conor and Leila come over to us holding hands. Declan trails behind them. It’s the first time I’ve seen Conor and Declan in the same place since the lake party.

“How did it feel to hear your songs up there?” Cookie probes the twins. “They’re amazing. Who wouldn’t want you to write for them after hearing those?”

Declan smiles sheepishly, while Conor flashes a giant grin indicating he knows exactly how good they are.

“We’ll see,” Declan shrugs. He’s the modest twin. “Not long to go now.”

“And not long to go until camp ends,” Cookie says.

“So, who is ready for the real night to begin?” Leila asks, nudging her head in the direction of campers heading into the woods. “It’s a big day tomorrow, but we can still have one drink for the sake of Camp Harmony tradition.”

“I’m not,” I say quickly.

“We’ll forgive you—you do have a solo,” Leila says with a wink. She starts walking, tugging Conor along, then turns back to us. “What’re you waiting for? Come on!”

With the lovebirds leading the way, the three of us hang back to give them space.

“How are you feeling about this being your last summer here, Declan?” I ask. “Ready to never set foot in camp again?”

“I’m surprised I came back after last…” Declan’s voice trails off. “It’s time for a fresh start and to do something new.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t go without a send-off, right?” Cookie says. The sun is setting, and she uses her phone light to lead us through the trees. We’re not alone. Voices carry through the wind, making the branches and leaves come alive with conversation. “We need to show the first-years how to party.”

Usually, parties happen on the lake, but we steer away from it and continue along the path that leads to our cabins. Instead of turning to pass through the Accommodation Village, we head further into the forest, past Leila’s cabin to the thicker wilderness.

“Doesn’t Jacqueline get pissed that people are partying before the big show?” I ask.

“It’s tradition!” Cookie says, as if that makes it okay. “She doesn’t care as long as the final show goes perfectly, and it always does. Everyone responsible for what’s going to happen on that stage won’t risk doing anything stupid to compromise their big moment. It’s too important.”

“Plus, some of their parents will kill them if they do,” Declan chips in.

Laughter and house music burst from a clearing. It reminds me of a packed dance floor as the entire camp has shown up to party in a circle of trees. Someone has rigged a small DJ booth. To the right of it, kegs are precariously placed on large tree stumps. Campers dance in the middle of the circle, lit up with fairy lights intertwined through the branches. Groups who don’t fit into the space or want to chat have divided into smaller clusters deeper into the forest.

I look around awe-struck and ask, “Who set this up?”

Cookie taps her nose. “The Camp Harmony fairies, of course!”

We follow Leila and Conor to the kegs, where first-years are already cracking open the second one.

“We need you to be in perfect shape tomorrow to show Tiffany how it’s done,” Leila says as she tosses me a soda from the ice bucket.

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