The thought that this is our last year together makes me a little sad. I guess everybody is thinking the same thing, because Ben finally says, “Okay, what happens to us next, O wise one?”

Jack replies, “I’ve realized that I’ve been a little too hard on Red here.” That’s the understatement of the year. In every telling of our story, I end up with some horrible addiction … and Ethan dies tragically. Of course Jack becomes a huge star and Ben is some weird recluse who raises llamas or something. “I think you’re going to like this one, Red.”

I doubt it.

“We become instant sensations after we open for U2.” Nobody bothers to ask how we went from CPA to opening for U2, we just go with it. “Bono obviously becomes jealous of my dynamic personality and charisma.”

“Obviously,” Ben says with a dramatic rolling of the eyes.

“So he produces Jack and the Background Players —”

“Wait,” Ben interrupts. “When did we get a new name and why on —”

“Hey! I’m telling a story here. So he produces the band’s album and we become major stars. Soon U2 is opening for us. You know, because it’s important to remember those little people who have helped you along the way. Soon tension begins in the band as the attention shifts from our beanpole of a lead singer —”

“Hey, I’ve gained some weight this summer, thank you very much,” Ethan protests.

Jack gasps. “Yeah, you are probably what, a buck fifteen soaking wet? Big improvement.”

I shake my head; the last thing we need to do is make Ethan even more self-conscious about his appearance. It took me two years to get him into jeans and T-shirts that actually fit. And then I swear he grew another six inches.

“Okay, so the attention shifts from our bulking stud of a lead singer to the magnetic drummer.”

Ethan interrupts. “Yes, because that often happens with drummers.” Jack glares at him. “But do go on….”

“You’re all obviously jealous of the attention I receive.”

“Obviously,” Ben and I say in unison.

“But things get even more complicated as Red realizes that Ben will never return her feelings for him.”

“Um.” I know better than to try to reason with him, but I try anyway. “Maybe the fact that Ben’s gay has something to do with that?”

Jack nods at me with such sympathy. “But the heart, it wants what it wants.”

“Sorry, Emme, this —” Ben gestures at me. “Not my thing.”

Ethan begins to bang his head against the table. “Okay, we do have an audition next week, so can we please get on with this?”

Jack finally gives up. “Fine. I leave you all to become a ginormous star and marry an Oscar-winning actress-slash-Victoria’s Secret model, while Ethan dies by getting hit by a bike messenger while busking outside a subway station, Ben goes to Montana to raise wild goats, and Red, to recover from her heartbreak over Ben’s rejection, turns to her old friend Jack Daniel’s. Happy?”

Ben claps. “That it’s over? Yes.”

“Wait, how exactly is this being easier on me?” I ask. “I still have an addiction and I’m miserable.”

“You guys wanted the short version.” Jack shrugs his shoulders and dives into his food.

Both Ben and Ethan glare at me, not wanting to prolong this any more.

“Plus” — Jack shoves a few fries into his mouth — “I thought it was best to make it short and sweet. We don’t want Mount Saint Emme erupting again.”

Ethan’s fork drops, Ben looks down at the floor, and I just sit there with my mouth open. I can’t believe Jack would bring up … The Incident.

Jack realizes, too late, what he’s done. “You know, I …”

“Oh, so now you’re at a loss for words?” Ethan says through clenched teeth. “Two seconds too late.” He gets up to go to the bathroom.

“Emme …” Jack’s voice is a low whisper.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m the one …”

I don’t even want to think about what happened this summer. Ethan and I haven’t talked about it since. Nobody has.

I was hoping that we’d returned to normal. Things seemed to be a lot better.

However, Ethan’s abrupt departure from the table makes it clear:

Appearances can be deceiving.


The following afternoon, Sophie knocks on my door.

“Greetings from Maryland!” She holds out something wrapped up in tissue paper.

“You remembered!” I take the gift and start to unwrap the tissue.

“Of course I remembered. I only do it every year.”

It’s a pink scallop seashell. “These are my favorite.” I turn it over in my hand and rub the smooth surface.

Sophie shakes her head. “I can’t believe you keep them. The first time I gave you one was because I was eight and cheap. What else do you give someone from the beach for free?” She glances over the other shells she’s given me, all lined up on my bookshelf.

I place my newest shell next to the others. “It’s not that.”

“Right, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Stop it.” I pick up the first one she gave me, a black-and-white shell. “I just think it’s interesting to think about its journey. Where it’s been, you know? It’s probably traveled thousands of miles in the ocean and it ends up on a beach in Maryland.”

“And then on some girl’s bookshelf in Brooklyn. What a life!” She laughs. “Although I really shouldn’t judge, since my journey hasn’t been anything to brag about.”

Sophie sits down on my bed and I see her study the photos on my wall. There’s a collage of all the talent competitions Sophie and I have competed in. Sophie is wearing a blue ribbon or gold medal in all of them. But the photos stop when we’re around fourteen. Our schedules at CPA don’t really allow us to do much outside of school, and, well … Sophie really hasn’t shone through as much as we thought she would.

She shakes her head, as if she’s trying to get rid of whatever thought is there. “Sorry, I’m just in a crabby mood. Bad night.”

“Oh, did you and Carter get into a fight or something?”

Sophie reaches into her bag and pulls out a stack of newspapers and printouts from online gossip columns. “No. I spent all last night posing for photographers and I was cut off in every picture except one.” She hands me a spread from the Gossip Guru that has a picture of Sophie clutching on to Carter. “Carter Harrison and friend … and friend!”

I look at the photo. She has one arm wrapped around Carter, while the other holds his hand. “It’s pretty clear that you guys are a couple.”

She picks up the photo and studies it. “That’s not my point. I’ve been with Carter for two years now — shouldn’t they recognize me already? And we’re seniors now, so time is running out.”

I know how much pressure senior year is going to be. I never thought it would get to Sophie, but she seems more stressed out than usual.

Sophie puts the articles back in her bag. “I really need my name out there. It’s only a matter of time before I start working with talent scouts.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t agree with Sophie’s decision to avoid college and immediately dive into the world of Broadway and record contracts. It’s not that I doubt her talent; it’s just such a hard business.

“Anyway.” Sophie lays her head on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry to dump that on you. How are things with the guys? Do you know what you’re going to do for the audition?”

“Oh, it’s fine. We’re debating which of Ethan’s songs to do.” I feel a slight stab in my stomach as I say his name. When he returned to the table, we started talking about what songs to perform and mapped out a practice schedule. I tried to talk to him afterward, but he rushed off to the subway. I guess maybe it’s better to let it go. I said my peace. Well, I said a lot of things. It was more like I was declaring war, but I had to do it.

“Hello?” Sophie waves her hand in front of my face. “Earth to Emme.”

“Sorry.”

She tilts her head. “Is everything all right?”

I nod. I’m glad to have Sophie back, and not just from Maryland, but back in my life. Each year it seems like she slips away from me. I know I carry the blame since I have to dedicate so much time to the band. But between homework, rehearsals, school performances, and band gigs, I don’t have a lot of time for anything. Still, there will always be time for Sophie. We’re a team. We’re best friends.

I pull out the sheet music with my scribbles over it.

Sophie straightens up. “I’ve been warming up my voice. Tell me everything about it!”

“I’ve been working on this one idea for a while. It’s about searching. The song is about searching for that person, the one who completes you. Sort of like ‘Where are you already?’ but I think it also works with where we are right now. Searching for our future, where we belong.”

Sophie nods at me while she studies my lyrics. “Amazing, Emme. Really amazing.”

I sit down at the keyboard in my room and begin to play the song for Sophie. After a few run-throughs, she begins to sing along. I love this stage of the writing process, when the song is like an intimate secret shared between us. It’s a bond that can’t be broken by school or by anyone. It’s only the two of us.

After we practice for a while, I type out the reworked lyrics. (Hearing Sophie sing always inspires me to make a few changes.) She hesitates before taking the sheet.

“Um, Em, I was hoping you could do me a huge favor.” She begins to curl a long brunette strand of hair between her fingers. She does this when she waits for a callback list to be posted or when she thinks she’s going to say something that will upset me.