Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

I rested my head against his shoulder and told him what she said. “She won’t let me bring up anything serious. How am I supposed to tell her that I’m a liar? Or that my mom is calling her dad because I opened my stupid mouth?”

“No offense, but you’re a really bad liar. At least it wasn’t a surprise for me when you admitted you never went skydiving.”

I elbowed him.

“Be nice,” he whispered.

I looked up at him. “What should I do?”

“I can’t tell you that. You know Naomi better than I do.” He stroked my cheek.

“That doesn’t help.”

“I know—I suck. I’m sorry.”

Being so close to him relaxed me. I ran my fingers under his sleeve, trying to guess the shape of his tattoo.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs. I pulled back to see Naomi watching us. She wasn’t smiling this time. “Maybe I should leave you two alone.”

“No, we have to record ‘Dawn,’” I said.

Naomi made her way down the stairs. “I’m in the mood to celebrate those killer reviews we got.”

“How?” I asked.

“Let’s take a trip.” She moved in front of us and pulled a baggy out of her jeans. A few shriveled brown pieces of something sat inside.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“’Shrooms,” Justin muttered. “They make you hallucinate, basically.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” I whispered.

He shrugged. “Some people think it’s fun.”

Naomi raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

“I want to work on ‘Dawn,’ like we planned,” I said.

“So, let’s eat a couple first.” She grinned. “It’ll make practice more interesting.”

“Why do we need to make it more interesting?” I asked.

She tilted her head back, rolling her eyes. “Ugh. Don’t start with the dumb questions, Drea.”

I clenched my fists. That was the second time she’d said that to me.

“It wasn’t a dumb question,” Justin said, his fingers tracing the back of my hand.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll eat them by myself.”

“Not during band practice,” he said. “We agreed, remember?”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed at him. “Oh my God—they’re just ’shrooms!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly.

She shook her head and shoved the baggy back into her pocket. “No offense, Justin. But maybe they let you out of rehab too early.”

Justin’s arms tensed around me. I sucked in my breath, expecting him to yell. I sure wanted to, but no words came out of my parted lips.

“Recovery takes a long time, Naomi,” he said. “And being around people who are wasted doesn’t help.”

She looked at the ground, running her fingers through her hair again. “Maybe I should just go. I’m kind of beat anyway.”

“I wasn’t asking you to leave,” Justin said.

“Yeah, I know, but…” She shrugged.

“Stay.” My voice came out softer than I expected.

Naomi glanced up at me then. Something about the look in her eyes made my stomach hurt. “I’ll see you later.”

I watched her climb the stairs, torn between going after her and staying in Justin’s arms. One route was unpredictable and draining, the other—warm and exciting. I chose Justin, but wished I hadn’t let her go. Especially when she didn’t answer her phone the rest of the weekend.

F riday, September 28 It’s lunchtime, and I’m supposed to be finishing up my film review. Justin and I didn’t get around to it last night. He’s working on his right now. I like to watch him and guess what he’s thinking about. Right now he’s bobbing his head to whatever is playing on his iPod. His lips are moving a little bit, but there is no sound coming out. I wonder if he ever puts music lyrics into his homework. I’ve done that several times. He just peeked up at me and smiled. I love it when he does that. Naomi is smoking with Roger. She’s been spending a lot more time with him. Even riding home with him instead of us. She hasn’t shown up for practice all week. Justin told her that she can’t just keep blowing the band off, but she rolled her eyes and flipped him off. She nods more and talks less. Her eyes look bruised underneath and red around the edges, but wide open like she’s afraid she’ll blink and miss something. I asked her if she was okay yesterday. She said she was sick of me asking her that. Mom keeps checking their driveway for her dad’s SUV. She asked me to get his cell number. I told her I wouldn’t do it. She asked me when he’d be home. I told her I didn’t know. I really don’t want the weekend to come.

Naomi was already in the locker room when I arrived. Her eyes looked glassy and vacant today. Kari stood over her, muttering something I couldn’t make out. They both stared at me for a moment before turning their attention back to each other.

“I know it was you,” Kari said before joining her friends across the aisle.

Naomi chewed on her thumbnail, eyeing the floor.

“What happened?” I took out my gym clothes and shoved my lunch box into the locker.

“Nothing important.”

“Are we going to work on ‘Dawn’ tomorrow?”

She stood up and opened her locker. “That depends. Does Justin want me to take a drug test first?”

“He’s worried about you. We both are.”

“I’m sorry that he couldn’t handle his shit.” She slammed the metal door shut. “But it doesn’t mean he gets to piss on everyone’s parade, you know? To be honest—I’m thinking of quitting the band. I’m just not feeling it anymore.”

I pulled my T-shirt over my head. It felt heavy and cold against my skin. “You can’t do that—”

“Cut the shit, Drea.” She walked toward me until our faces were inches apart. “When we first met, you looked at me like I was a pile of dog crap. And you haven’t stopped judging me since. You and Justin are dying to get rid of me. Admit it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Admit it!”

I backed away, avoiding her piercing eyes. They reminded me of a zombie’s—lifeless. “I don’t understand why you… why you’re—”

She moved toward me until her breath hit my cheek. It smelled like curdled milk. “Yeah, that’s right. Look away and play innocent, like always. Or better yet, run along and ask Prince Justin to save you. He’s good at that, right?”

My eyes burned and my throat felt swollen. I couldn’t breathe. “You’re acting like Scott.”

She flicked something off my shirt. “Better get to class. Wouldn’t want Little Miss Perfect to be late.” The edge in her voice made me shiver.

I spun around and ran to the gym, wishing I didn’t have to look at her again. Being near her gave me this heavy feeling in my gut.

But she never showed up to PE.

When I entered the locker room forty minutes later, there was no sign of Naomi. But I could still feel her around me. On the cement walls. In the damp air. Heavy and unrelenting.

My lunch box seemed lighter when I pulled it out. I cracked it open to find my crayons and a few pennies. My iPod and roughly ten dollars in change were missing. Only one person knew my combination.

“Did Naomi take anything?” a voice asked.

I glanced up at Kari. She peered down at my lunch box, her thin eyebrows raised.

I nodded, letting the lid fall shut.

“Yeah, I forgot to lock up yesterday. She stole twenty bucks out of my jeans.” Kari sat down next to me. “I heard you guys fighting.”

I flicked the clasp on my box.

“That’s how she gets back at people she’s pissed at,” Kari continued. “She steals from them.”