“Will you say that again for my video?” Lauren said, holding up her phone, as if it really wasn’t a question at all but a demand.
“Excuse me?” the girl asked. Her name tag said Tia.
“The ‘have a fabulous day’ thing. While you’re putting a roll on my plate.” She lifted her plate so it was in the shot.
“Lauren, not everyone wants to be an extra in your film.” I sympathized with the helpless look on Tia’s face.
Lauren waved her hand in my direction. “It’s not a film. I have a channel. It’s really just pieces of my life. This will be part of an end-of-summer mash-up. Please?”
“Sure!” Tia said, suddenly unleashing a dazzling smile.
Guess she didn’t need my help. It’s not like anyone would see it anyway. Who wanted to watch pieces of our boring life? I moved to the next station and filled a plate with lettuce and tomatoes, then drenched it in ranch. Several families sat around the dining hall, each at their own circular table. My parents waved me over to where they were already eating.
I slid into the seat across from my mom. The phone in my pocket dug into my hip, so I took it out and set it on the table next to my plate.
“It’s my music,” I said when Mom looked at the phone like it was pointless to carry around. “I won’t listen to it now, of course.” I liked music when I was walking around. A soundtrack for life.
“You don’t need it anyway. They have live music during dinner.” She craned her head around.
My heart seemed to stop. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten—Brooks and his band performed at dinner. I sank a little lower in my chair, my lie from the night before replaying in my mind.
Just as it registered that I couldn’t hear any music, Mom turned back around and said, “They must be on break or something. They were playing when Dad and I first got here.”
In the corner of the cafeteria was a makeshift stage with the abandoned instruments. It was mostly blocked from my view by my mom.
“They announced a ten-minute break a little while ago,” Dad said.
Ten minutes. I could eat in less than ten minutes. Because avoiding Brooks seemed like the mature way to solve this problem I’d created. I sighed. Like avoiding Shay before we left had been? No, I’d clear things up, but not now, in the middle of the dining hall. Especially because my explanation would sound something like: Well, you were smiling, so you can see how I couldn’t correct you about me working here.
“I added another item to my birthday list,” Lauren said as she plopped her plate on the table and her body in the seat next to me. “A handheld phone stabilizer. It will help with my videos.”
“Your birthday is not for five months,” Dad said.
“I know. I’m giving you all plenty of time.”
I knew my parents, especially my dad, thought her hobby was just that, a hobby. But they mostly kept quiet about it while redirecting her attention to other things.
Mom pointed to a laminated schedule that sat in the middle of the table. “If either of you are interested, there’s a motivational speaker down at the lower amphitheater tonight,” she said, in a perfect example of redirection.
“What are they motivating us to do?” I asked.
Lauren spread her arms wide. “Live a productive life without internet.”
“Knit socks and bake banana bread?” I asked with a smirk.
Mom rolled her eyes. “Really? Is that what you think pre-internet life was like?”
“You probably also mapped stars and wrote poetry,” I said.
Dad raised his fork. “I actually did take an astronomy class one semester in college.” He flipped the schedule around to face him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they offered some stargazing here….Aha!” He stabbed his fork into the middle of the page, his eyes lighting up. “All your wishes come true.”
I smiled, looking between Dad’s fork and his goofy expression. The stars the night before had been pretty amazing. It would be fun to learn more than the basic constellations.
I shoveled a couple bites of salad into my mouth, then stood.
“You done already?” Dad asked.
I swallowed. “Yes, that badminton earlier really took it out of me.” I lifted my phone off the table.
Lauren scoffed at the lame excuse. Microphone feedback rang out and I dropped back into my seat as quickly as possible. That had not been ten minutes. Not even five.
“You don’t have to stay,” Dad said as if I’d changed my mind because of his question.
“It’s fine, I’ll leave when you guys do.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously, but continued to eat.
Brooks’s voice came over the microphone. “We’re back, and, just a reminder, we take requests. The song list is on the back of the schedule on each table.” Was he the lead singer?
“Hello,” Lauren said, her eyes glued to the stage, which, unlike me, she could obviously see clearly. I ducked a little more and reached for the schedule at the same time Lauren did. I let her have it first.
“Hello, what?” Mom asked.
Lauren scanned the song list, then handed it to me. “Hello, cute band in the middle of the woods. Sign me up. Avery, check them out. Let’s go request something.”
I looked down the list, which contained mainly oldies—the Beach Boys, Elvis, the Beatles, and more. None of which were the punk rock vibe I’d heard the night before in passing. I peeked around Mom and watched as someone who wasn’t Brooks began singing a Billy Joel song. He had a nice voice—smooth with just the right amount of rasp.
Dad, now staring at the band too, said, “They are way too old for you to be fraternizing with.”
“How do you know how old they are?” Lauren asked.
I wasn’t sure how old the others were, but Brooks
