Page 59 of Disharmony

He pushes his notebook across the grass for me to look at and points at the next verse.

“It’s good,” I say begrudgingly after reading, but my eyes stray to the sentences on the next page. Sentences that don’t match the love song he’s writing. I quote the words back to him, “‘Split her heart open and feed on it, because you’re a vampire for her’—that’s even better!”

Levi snatches the notebook from my fingers like I’ve seen something I shouldn’t. Something he didn’t want me to see.

“Sorry,” I say hastily, “but why sing this love song, when you can sing something like that?”

I’ve already offended him somehow, so why not ask?

He flips the question around. “Why did you want to be a musician, Ash?”

“Me?” I stroke the grass and pull up small pieces while considering my answer. “Because music is the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

“Exactly,” Levi says. “It’s not the same when you’re signed to a record label like Starnote. There are expectations and fans. People expect you to fit into a box. If we sing something different, what will happen to us? At the end of the day, we’re a product.”

“Some people would like it,” I insist, but both of us know the small portion of people who would appreciate something different aren’t their target audience. Levi’s raised eyebrows say as much. Their listeners expect feel good songs. Anything with a serious message would have parents suing them. “Okay, maybe not. But even if you can’t release it officially, it doesn’t mean you can’t sing or write it. Music is still fun for you, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes I wish we could go back to when we were last here,” he says wistfully, looking over my shoulder to the gap in the trees to where the blue glittering lake is shining through, “and do things differently.”

“What would you do?”

Levi snaps out of his pensive state and shakes his head, then his eyes widen. “What happened to your head?”

I pull my cap lower, but it’s too late. He’s already seen the Scooby Doo Band-Aid Cookie put there.

“I fell,” I reply.

“You should watch where you’re going.”

“No shit,” I mutter sarcastically.

Levi laughs. “You’re not like the other campers, are you?”

I freeze and stop fiddling with the blades of grass, not sure whether to take his comment as a compliment or not. Has Zach told him about what happened when he ran into my session at the studio? I hope not…

My vibrating cell stops me from having to answer.

Ripper: Next Saturday, 3pm. I’ll send you the details.

I smile, but when I look back at Levi, his expression has hardened. He clears his throat, “I need to be getting back to work.”

Whatever guards he let down are up again, and he’s back to his usual sulky self.

“See you around,” I say vaguely, taking the hint.

I have more pressing things to worry about than whether the Lionhearts are going to smash their next release. What I have to figure out is how I’m going to get to Wilderton next weekend.

seventeen

Ash

“Makeup should cover it,” Cookie says with confidence. A few days have helped the swelling go down. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

“Trust me,” I grumble, smearing another layer of concealer on my head and dabbing it in with my finger, “I’m sticking to soda, or I’ll never be able to get up for Desiree’s dance class in the morning.”

Cookie grins. We’re now at the point where we can make light of my weird E-trip and mysterious return to the cabin. “Soda is probably a good thing.”

“Will Leila be coming?” I ask.

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