Free Sing by Vivi Greene Page B

us to bring you back anything for lunch?”
    â€œAs long as it isn’t a lobster roll,” Sammy says, making a face. “After our little fishing trip, I don’t think I can ever eat one of those poor creatures again.”
    I gesture toward the open window. “The sun’s out again. Don’t stay inside all day.”
    Sammy promises to at least read on the deck and Irun downstairs and out the door, where Tess and Ray are waiting with the car.

    â€œI think Sammy has a secret.”
    Tess is a few feet ahead of me on the trail, her boots trampling over roots and fallen pine needles. She turns over her shoulder and gives me a doubting look.
    â€œOur Sammy?” she asks. “Sammy has never kept a secret in her life. Remember the surprise party debacle?”
    A few years back, Terry and Tess and Sam and my parents got together to throw me an epic surprise bash at Disneyland, of all places. There was an elaborate cover involving a music video shoot, and I thought we were just going to work. But the night before, Sammy let slip that the massive icebox cake she’d ordered (my favorite) would have to be picked up in the morning.
    â€œRemember she tried to play it off?” I chuckle. “Like it was a surprise party for somebody on the crew, who also happened to have a birthday and love theme parks and icebox cakes?”
    Tess laughs and stops in the middle of the trail, crossing her arms over her waist like she’s fighting off a cramp. “Oh man.” She sighs, catching her breath. “So what’s the secret?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I blurt. My journal and phoneare burning holes in the pocket of my sweatshirt, and I’ve been thinking about sneaking a text to Noel all morning.
    â€œYou said Sam has a secret,” Tess reminds me, her eyebrows arched in suspicion. “Somebody’s jumpy.”
    â€œSorry,” I say, pushing on through an opening in the trees. “There’s just no way she cares that much about a book. She was being kind of weird this morning.”
    â€œWell, that makes two of you,” Tess says, hustling to catch up.
    I force a grin. “Are those blueberries?” I ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at changing the subject. Luckily, Tess is an undercover nature freak, the hidden underbelly of her city-girl status that grew out of her summers here on the island and at camp.
    â€œYup.” Tess nods, bending down to pick the tiny, wrinkled berries. She pops a few in her mouth and hands the rest to me. They are sweet and tart at the same time, nothing like the mushy, tasteless fruit you find in stores.
    â€œWow,” I say. “These are incredible.”
    â€œGood things come in small packages.” At barely five feet tall, Tess is a sucker for anything tiny. “Come on,” she urges. “We’re almost to the summit.”
    Out of the corner of my eye I spot a wooden bench, wedged between a pair of pine trees. “Do you mind if I meet you up there? I want to write down some lyrics before I forget them.”
    â€œNew song?” Tess turns around quickly, and there’s a glimmer of relief in her eyes that makes my stomach clench. She and Sammy have bent over backward for me, encouraging me to take a break, to recharge, but deep down, they must be scared, too. In a lot of ways, my career is their career.
    â€œMaybe,” I say carefully, afraid to commit to too much. “I’m not sure yet.”
    Tess gives me an encouraging nod. “You got this, Bird.”
    I manage a strained smile and watch as she starts back on the trail. “See you at the top!” She calls over her shoulder, disappearing around a wooded bend.
    I follow the sandy path out to the small point and sit down on the bench that overlooks the water. In the distance there is a collection of smaller islands, connected by narrow patches of marshland. Shorebirds race up and down the pebbly coast, chasing one another