“Nice try,” Lilith said as she sent a straight shot into his goal.
She dominated the first half of the game, but Bruce never flagged. He seemed to be having the time of his life.
When the score was tied five-five, “Bye Bye Love” by the Everly Brothers came through the speakers. Lilith began singing along, not realizing what she was doing until Bruce started singing with her. They hadn’t done this in years. Her brother had a dazzling voice, staying in tune even as he whacked the hockey puck with all his might.
Then, from the darkness behind Lilith, a third voice began to harmonize with theirs. She turned to see Cam leaning against Ms. Pac-Man, watching them, and she gave up an important goal.
“Yesssss!” Bruce cheered. “Thanks, Cam!”
“What are you doing here?” Lilith asked.
“Don’t stop playing—or singing—on my account,” Cam said. He was wearing a black knit hat and black sunglasses, his motorcycle jacket zipped up. Lilith liked the way he looked. “Your voices hang together like a sailor’s knot.”
“What does that mean?” Bruce asked.
“Your bond is strong,” Cam said. “There’s no music more beautiful than sibling harmony.”
“Do you have siblings?” Lilith asked. He never talked about his family or his past. She thought about her trip to Dobbs Street and the green tent she’d seen him step out of. Was that really where he lived? Did he share it with anyone else? The more time she spent with Cam, the stranger it felt to know so little about him.
“More importantly,” Bruce said, taking advantage of Lilith’s distraction and somehow sliding in the final goal. “Do you want to play the winner?”
“You know, I have never had that honor,” Cam said, and smiled at Lilith.
She held out her paddle. “Be my guest.”
Cam took off his sunglasses and left them on a cocktail table with his phone. He took the paddle from Lilith, and this time, when their fingers touched, Lilith was the one who stayed still to let it last a little longer. Cam noticed—she could tell from the way he smiled at her as he stepped into position, and the way his gaze stayed on her even though he was about to play. Lilith blushed as she slipped in another batch of quarters and the game began.
Bruce smoked Cam with his first serve. Cam tried to bank the puck but hit it directly into Bruce’s corner. Bruce pried the puck free and slapped it into Cam’s goal in a flash.
“Yes!” Bruce shouted.
“Earthly objects should not travel at such speeds,” Cam said.
Charmed by how seriously he played with her brother, Lilith pulled a black stool from under the cocktail table and sat down.
Cam was a lunger; his body moved wildly back and forth as he swung his paddle. But he didn’t move fast enough, whether or not he was letting Lilith’s brother dominate on purpose. Bruce seemed to get better with each goal he scored.
This was good. The two of them, bonding. Since their dad skipped town, Bruce hadn’t had many guys to look up to, but he clicked with Cam right away. Lilith knew why. Cam was fun, unpredictable. It was exciting to be around him.
A flashing light drew Lilith’s attention, and she peered down at Cam’s phone. A brief glance told her he’d just received an email. A longer, less innocent stare told her the subject: “Somebody’s Other Blues” by Lilith Foscor.
“How did you score another goal? I didn’t even see the puck!” Cam shouted at Bruce.
Lilith’s fingers inched toward the phone to light the screen again. This time she saw the sender’s name: Ike Ligon.
“What in the world?” she whispered.
She was not proud of what happened next.
She glanced once more at Cam’s back as he met Bruce’s serve. Then her finger slid across the touch screen to open the email.
Dear Lilith,
I read your lyrics. I could tell right away that you’ve got the songwriting bug pretty bad. You’ve got talent. Real talent. I know King Media has plans for announcing the winner of the contest, but I wanted to reach out, too. You win, kid. You killed it. Congrats. I can’t wait to meet you and shake your hand.
Lilith let the phone go black.
Ike Ligon liked her song?
Her face scrunched up. It didn’t seem possible. Out of everyone at school, she had won?
Even after she’d gotten over being mad at Cam for sending in the lyrics, Lilith had never expected to win. Chloe King was supposed to win, because Chloe King won everything, and that was the way the world worked. So what was up with this email?
Must be a joke.
But then she stopped herself. What a depressing first instinct. What if it wasn’t a joke? Why couldn’t she be happy like every other girl at school? Why couldn’t she accept that Ike Ligon liked her song, that he thought she had real talent, instead of suspecting that someone was playing a trick on her? Why did Lilith distrust every good thing that came her way?
A tear landed on the screen of Cam’s cell phone, bringing her back to the arcade. Lilith turned away and stared down at the gum-encrusted carpet.