Sing. Vivi Greene

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ out across the water. A cluster of gulls hovers above the ocean, squawking and diving in a sort of dance. I can’t remember the last time I was this close to the sea. The beach was just a short drive from my house in LA, but the only time I ever spent there was the week we shot the “California Christmas” special for MTV. Otherwise, it was just the scenic blur of my daily commute to and from my house.

      Choppy DJ chatter bursts from the car speakers and suddenly “You Are Here” comes on. It’s a song I wrote about getting lost while driving around LA with Caleb. I still feel a little jolt every time I hear the opening bars of one of my tracks on the radio. Usually, it’s a happy, heart-pumping thrill. But today it’s more of a guilty pang, like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

      Aside from my parents, I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving the city. I thought about texting Terry, but I knew he’d try to talk me out of it. I’ve decided to call him when I get to the island, explain that getting away is the only option right now. There are three months until tour, and I have to relax before then. I can’t risk another scene like yesterday. Terry won’t be thrilled to hear that I’ve temporarily relocated to an isolated island hours and a boat ride away from any trappings of civilization, but he’ll come around … eventually.

      Out of habit, I pull my phone from the front pocket of my bag and scroll through old texts with Jed. I see my usual gushy, long-winded messages, full of kissy-face emojis and exclamation points, and his quick replies: Yup; You too; Night. I guess if I’d really been looking for it I would have noticed that he was distracted and curt. But why would I be looking for it? Just last week we’d done an all-day event together in Central Park. He was by my side through the whole thing, his arm hooked easily around my waist. I’d never felt so supported.

      I stare off across the still water, willing the boat to appear and magically transport me to someplace where I can pretend to be somebody else.

      “Welcome home!”

      Tess lugs our bags out of the trunk and plops them down on the grass beside her. I peel my legs from the sticky seat and climb out of the car as Sammy bounds up to the screen door like a dopey golden retriever.

      The house is small and boxy, with missing shingles and a screened-in porch that’s patched with electrical tape. But the paint on the trim is new, and a cheery row of peonies lines the stone walkway to the steps.

      “What do you think?” Tess asks. I follow her gaze toward the horizon. The house may be plain, but the setting is something out of a fairy tale. A thick fog snakes between clusters of giant evergreens. A low, grassy marsh opens into a web of tidal pools. And beyond all that is the ocean, flat and still and so blue it’s almost black.

      “It’s gorgeous,” I say. The air smells sweet and salty at the same time, honeysuckle mixed with gusts of a crisp sea breeze. My grandparents live in a place like this. Theirs is a lake house in Wisconsin, but the feeling of being lost in nature is the same.

      “It’s no Four Seasons.” Tess laughs, shouldering her bag and starting for the house.

      Ray leans in to scoop up my luggage, but I wave him off. “I got it,” I say. “You guys go get settled. We’ll call you if we make any plans.”

      Part of the deal I struck with my parents was that the guys had to stay at a B and B in town. I can handle being shadowed when we’re out and about, but there’s no way I’m spending the summer with a security team from dawn until dusk. The whole point of this trip is for me to feel normal again, and there’s nothing normal about three burly bodyguards monitoring my every move.

      After a thorough inspection of the house, Ray insists on rolling my bags to the steps before climbing back into his SUV and reversing down the dusty dirt road.

      I open the screen door and am immediately transported to the summers of my childhood. The windows are covered in dusty plaid curtains, and there’s a wood stove in the far corner of the living room. It even smells like my grandparents’ house, a combination of mothballs and lingering ash from the stove.

      It’s perfect.

      Sam and Tess are getting settled upstairs, the old wooden floorboards groaning beneath their feet. I leave my bags near the bottom step and walk through the kitchen, a bright, narrow room with linoleum tiles and wallpaper trim. Between the kitchen and the living room is a sliding glass door that opens up to a small porch. I leave my sandals on the steps and start down the trail toward the water.

      Strains of Sammy’s laughter float on the breeze. I take a deep breath and feel a sharp twinge of missing home, Madison, my grandparents, and my mom and dad. I talk to them all the time, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as waking up to the sounds of Mom in the kitchen, mixing batter for pancakes, classical music playing softly from the clock radio beside the stove.

      Ahead of me, the water stretches out in all directions. The trail under my feet turns from rock to tall grass, opening up to a pebbly coast. I bend down to cuff the bottoms of my jeans and burrow my toes into the dark, cool sand. The waves crash into the rocks at intervals, sending up a dramatic spray of white.

      My phone buzzes in my pocket and I jump. I slip it out and stare guiltily at the screen: Terry. I exhale loudly and answer the call, pressing the phone to my ear.

      “Hey,” I greet him, breezy and cheerful.

      “Lil, what the hell?” Terry barks. “I’ve been texting all morning.”

      “I know.” I sigh, backing away from the crashing surf. “I’m sorry.”

      “What was that about yesterday?” he asks. “Are you okay? I’ve already pulled a bunch of stuff down but a few photos got out. Did you fall? What happened?”

      “I’m fine, Terry,” I say. “It’s just … Jed and I broke up. He ended it. We’re through.”

      There’s a short pause. I imagine Terry pacing the stretch of carpet in front of his desk, staring through the window of his corner office and tugging at the roots of his slicked-back hair. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, his voice measured. “I thought you guys were—never mind, not important. What’s important now is that you stay calm. Do the work, right? Nobody processes this stuff better than you do, Lil. You’re the queen of bouncing back.”

      I slump into the sand and pick up a handful of pebbles, sifting them through my fingertips. “That’s the thing,” I say softly. “I don’t know if I can do it this time.”

      “What do you mean?” Terry asks. “Of course you can. We’ll put you right out there. Radio. Events. Whatever it takes to keep you busy and get ready for the fall.”

      I take a deep breath. “Terry. I left,” I say. “I’m taking some time off.”

      Terry laughs. “What are you talking about? Left where?” he asks, panic creeping into his voice. “What about the tour?”

      “The tour is still on,” I assure him. “But I need time away. I can’t … I need … I need new songs.”

      There’s another pause, this one longer. “Terry?” I ask.

      “Lily,” he says, carefully, like I’m a horse he’s afraid of spooking. “I understand how hard this is. Really, I do. But I think you’re still in shock. Forever is practically in the can. It’s perfect. The first single is supposed to release in a few weeks. And besides, there СКАЧАТЬ