Page 6 of Disharmony

Can I really sell myself out?

I’ve been up against other people’s judgment all my life, but I’ve never pretended to be someone I’m not. But am I really in a position to turn down their offer because of my own stubbornness to not conform? Making music of some kind is better than working for Brick’s dad and staying in this dump, isn’t it?

It’s the opportunity of a lifetime and, without it, I have nothing. My own attempts at getting into camp based on the music I love didn’t work. Maybe embracing something new is the only way…

* * *

I pound the drums, and as my foot hits the pedal, I swing my head to the rhythm. I’ll miss these babies. If I’m going to pretend to be a pop princess, there’s no way I’ll be able to play these at camp.

I’m playing one of my originals that I’m working on. It’s calledMetamorphosis, but I still haven’t nailed the ending. I sing the chorus:

“Split your heart open,

Invite the darkness in,

Let it make you whole again.”

“Ash?” Dad yells above the noise. “Ashley!”

I take off my headphones, unaware of how long he’s been standing there. “Yeah?”

“Can you come in the kitchen for a sec?” he asks, adjusting his collar. I groan inwardly. I knew this moment was coming. “I need your help with something.”

“Sure,” I reply, trying to keep my tone measured.

Dad has spent the past few days sneaking around to organize a surprise farewell party. You’d think a cop would know better than to leave the guest list on the kitchen counter but, thankfully, his terrible party planning has given me time to prepare to face our distant family members. Most of them have only decided to pay an interest because they’ve seen my video. They are no better than the random assholes messaging me. In fact, Brick and his parents are the only people on the guest list I’m going to be happy to see—at least they didn’t abandon us.

I follow him from the garage into the house.

“Just through here,” Dad says loudly, beckoning me into the kitchen.

As I enter, the lights flicker on. Party poppers explode, and figures jump out wildly from behind the furniture with a collective chorus of “Surprise!”

“No way.” I cover my mouth to feign shock, but Brick raises his eyebrow to let me know he isn’t buying it. I can sing, but I’ve never been a good actress. “You planned all this, Dad?”

“I wanted to do something.” He shrugs, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. As much as he isn’t afeelingsguy, he wants to show me he cares. “Don’t worry, I’ve ordered pizza.”

“Sounds great.” I smile. Unfortunately, Dad’s cooking skills extend about as far as a sandwich, and I can’t risk food poisoning the day before arriving at camp. “Thanks for… you know…”

“Ashley, I hope you don’t forget about us when you’re all rich and famous.” My Aunt Susan, who looks like a female version of my father, butts in to place a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I wipe it off as she pulls away. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you.”

I wince, and whose fault is that? It’s the first time any of my dad’s family has visited us since the funeral. Where were they when we needed their support? They forgot about us and carried on with their lives while our whole family fell apart.

“Excuse me, Susan. Can I steal Ash for a second?” Brick intervenes at the perfect moment. He places his hands firmly on my shoulders to steer me away before I get a chance to say what’s really on my mind. He knows what I think of my dad’s family. “Let’s go sit on the porch, huh?”

I grind my teeth together but allow him to lead me out. If my dad hadn’t made such an effort, I’d have no qualms about telling Susan what I think of her and the rest of the vultures here tonight. Family isn’t a part-time deal. You can’t opt in or out depending on the circumstances.

I plonk myself down on the porch swing. “You didn’t have to do that, Brick.”

“I think I did. The parties just started,” he says. “The pizza hasn’t even arrived yet.”

We sit in silence, looking across our yards at the street where we have spent most of our lives. Aside from a rushed text to tell him I got a place at Camp Harmony, it’s the first time we’ve been alone since I climbed through his window to give him a rude awakening.

“So…” I begin.

“So?”

“I think I owe you an apology.” I scrunch up my nose like something smells rotten. I hate apologizing but, without him, none of this would have happened. His actions turned everything around for me. “I was pissed that you uploaded the video, but without it, I’d never have gotten in.”

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