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I lovedThe Little Mermaidmovie growing up. Loved her sense of adventure and independence, the way she made her ownpath.
My second time through the song, I sing overtop.
Movement at the front of the bus has mestraightening.
I relax a bit when my dad appears at the top of the stairs, brows pulled together. “What are you doinghere?”
“Messingaround.”
He crosses to me. “I’m looking for Tyler. We’re supposed to go check out astudio.”
A sound on the steps has both of us looking toward thedoor.
Tyler fills the frame. He’s the same breadth as my dad, only taller. His face is leaner, his eyes soulful the way my dad’s arefiery.
His hair’s damp, and I wonder whether he showeredalone.
“There you are. We gotta go.” My dad turns and claps him on theshoulder.
But Tyler’s attention lingers on me as my father bounds down thestairs.
He presses something to the side of the bus. “This was on my floor thismorning.”
The sticky note says, “This one’s foryou”.
The empty ache swells in my chest again, the one the music had been numbing since I left the poolhouse.
“We’ll talk later,” Tyler states. It’s a promise, not arequest.
I watch him disappear down thestairs.
But we don’t talklater.
Instead of meeting up with Pen or reading or swimming, I turn off my phone, take the guitar, and drive off to a secluded place at my favorite lake a few miles down theroad.
I sing until my throat’s sore and play until my fingersbleed.
By the time I return home, tucking my Audi next to my dad’s Bentley and Tyler’s bike, the sky is dark and I’mempty.
* * *
“Ican’t believeyou’re doing this,” Pen whispers from the next seat in the auditorium the nextmorning.
“Meeither.”
“Carly,” the teachercalls.
“Here we go,” I murmur, shifting down in myseat.
Carly claims the stage as if her dad paid for it. Hell, maybe hedid.
“Do you have music for the accompanist?” Miss Norelliasks.
“Oh, yes,” Carly informs her. “We went over it atlunch.”
When Carly starts to sing, I’m forced to recognize she’s good. Her voice is confident, her chin heldhigh.
“She’s not Ariel,” Pen whispers. “She’s toococky.”
