Chapter 3 (part 5)
We both know it was not enough, but we know our presence helps her cope, and we did our best to make her feel better.
“He told me…” she began again, but her words felt heavy, like she can’t get them out. She can’t finish her sentence without drowning in her own emotions. It was like she was dragged under by the ocean, but we didn’t let her go. She fought the waves, struggling with the riptide. “He said he doesn’t want to waste my time… anymore.” She said it bitterly, like she just swallowed something she regretted. She looked at us, for the first time since we got there, pain shining in her eyes. “He just told me I’m wa… wasting his… time.” She repeated, her voice rising.
People at the ice cream shop looked over at us. She stood up. We held her shoulders. She looked at me. I shook my head, trying to stop her from yelling, but I failed.
“Then he told me I’m not enough.” Her voice shook.
She dropped to her knees. We stood and tried to help her up, but she doesn’t want to stand. She stayed on her knees, nodding her head back and forth like she was praying for strength, but she looked more like a patient losing her grip.
“You have to be strong, Z.” Arya said gently.
“Come on, get up now.” I ordered, but she doesn’t listen.
…
After Zara sings, she goes straight to her seat without looking at anyone. Arya gives her a high-five. I follow her with my eyes. She’s smiling. I’m so proud of her—she’s beautiful and talented and deserves better than the guy who made her cry.
“Are you a Swiftie now?” I ask, smiling.
For the first time after her performance, she looks at me and shoves me lightly.
“It was just something emotional.” She smiles, but I see something deeper in her eyes.
After three years of friendship, I know Zara well enough to read her—one of the perks of being silent and introverted is learning to read people.
Arya sings her favorite song by the band. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, opens them again, and begins. After she finishes, she looks at me before she even sits—a cue telling me it’s my turn.
In my peripheral vision, I sense Harry’s gaze. It’s overwhelming. I’m not strong enough to handle it, but I try so hard not to be affected by those eyes.
When Arya finally takes her seat, she pinches me, fully waking me up. I’m still sitting beside her when she pushes me, stumbling in my seat, forcing me to stand.
“It’s your turn.” Arya says.
Everyone’s eyes are on me now. I stand straight managing it despite shaky knees. I slowly walk to the center, hands on my thighs like a scared kid. When I reach the center, I shift my posture, pretending I’m used to being in front of everyone’s eyes, but still, I don’t know what to do.
“Hi!” I wave awkwardly. “I’m Elise.”
I glance at my friends for support. They nod and smile big. I exhale. This is just a warm-up, Elise, I remind myself.
“To be honest, I don’t know what to sing. I don’t like famous songs I hear everywhere.” I laugh. The campers laugh with me.
“Just sing whatever you want.” Harry says.
I look at him. He smiles. I roll my eyes.
I step toward the guy holding a guitar in front. He looks older—not old old, but older than us. His hair is in dreadlocks and both ears pierced with five earrings each.
“Can I borrow your guitar?” I ask.
He hands me the guitar without a word.
“Uhm, I guess only a few of you know the songs I listen to…” I say, tuning the guitar. “I want to sing something everyone knows, so everyone can sing with me—just like everyone did before me. I guess there’s a hidden rule here not to sing a song someone else already sang.”
They laugh again.
I don’t know why, but I feel pressure reaching the center. The crowd was wild a moment ago. I take a deep breath and start strumming. I close my eyes, letting waves of emotion flow freely. Even with my eyes closed, I see Harry’s face. I open my eyes again. I don’t know if it’s hot here or if it’s just my red plaid long sleeves that make me feel warm. I feel my legs shaking. Luckily, I’m wearing my old pajamas, making it less noticeable.
I look in the mirror
Window outside
I’m watching the rain falling from the sky
I look in the mirror
My face, the tears begin to dry
You knew everything about me
Promise, but I can’t live without you
Everywhere I go
Every place in the pictures
Everything is memories
How can I live without you?
If you are my world, my air, my life and all, and all, yeah
That song was written when I just got back from Manhattan. I arrived with my suitcase and belongings, visiting all the places you and I used to go—the places filled with nostalgic memories and emotions. Feelings I had forgotten play like a movie on my face. I’m about to lose control, crying over the things I miss. I remember everything while I was there—my childhood with you, the happiness we shared, the secrets we kept, hoping I’d see you again, and the pain I gathered. It all feels like it never happened, like it was all just a dream. What I realize feels like a joke to my own naked eyes—a wishful thinking, not reality.
Tears start to form. I want to bring back those years as I sing, but I try to balance my emotions—I don’t want to show weakness with all these eyes judging me now.
When I finish, I smile and hand back the guitar. I thank him. As I walk to my seat, I glance at Harry, who gives me a standing ovation.
This is the first time I sing my own song out loud in front of people, and I don’t know how to react. I’m still shaking a bit.
After me, only three campers remain to perform. When everyone finishes, the coach takes the floor again.
“So… we already heard everyone sing,” she says.
“We want to hear The Pedal sing!” one of the campers calls out.
Everyone looks at him and nods in agreement.
Landon is the first to stand; the others follow. They don’t wait for the coach to tell them to stand up. When they reach the center of the circle, they form a smaller circle that looks like a secret force. After a moment, they face us. Neal borrows the guitar I borrowed earlier and begins strumming. I know the song — it’s rumored Harry wrote it for his ex-girlfriend. I hum along, knowing just the melody, not the words. Maybe after this, I can be a normal kid with a normal idol — but I don’t want to be like everyone else, so maybe I’ll stay the same.