Chapter Twenty-One
Host Tricia Wilson made a big deal about all the Comedy Hub contest judges exiting the auditorium to discuss the winners, and then welcomed Craig and Luke to the stage. “While the judges are making their final decision, we have some local musical talent to entertain you. Please give it up for Craig Kowalski and Luke Rosado of Energy Lab!”
Craig stepped up to the mic at center stage with his amped acoustic guitar as Luke wheeled out a drum set.
I was a little nervous. He was, too, though I was probably the only one who caught the quiet, throat-clicking tic that gave him away. He’d always considered himself a recording artist, and aside from fewer than a handful of coffee-shop gigs and his disco chorus moment, this was his first time on a big stage, in front of hundreds of people, playing his original music.
Once he got set up, made it past a slightly awkward introduction, and started playing his guitar, he relaxed. Craig and Luke’s first number was upbeat and sounded nothing at all like the demos I’d heard before. They sounded like a real band. A really good band. And Craig’s voice was deep, smooth, and resonant. There was character and gravity to the way he sang. Shocked, I turned to Hana and Quinn, who sat riveted in their seats. I willed Jason to get back from the bathroom faster—he needed to see this.
For their third and final song, the stage lights went to black except for one spotlight on Craig. I searched for Jason, hoping he was watching this from the doorway, not wanting to distract people by walking back down to the front row or something.
Hana took my hand and squeezed it as she whispered, “This is what Craig’s been working on. He loves you so much.”
Craig leaned into the mic and said, “This one is for my sister, Ellie. By the way, you kicked some comedy ass tonight. You’ll kick cancer’s ass, too.” The audience clapped for that, and my eyes welled up. “I have a guest joining me for this song. Please welcome Jason Cooper.”
The audience clapped again and another spotlight shone on the microphone stand next to Craig. “What’s going on?” I whispered to Quinn and Hana. “Jason hasn’t sung since his mom died.” They grinned, and this time Quinn reached across and gave my hand a squeeze.
Jason walked into the spotlight, and I almost fell off my chair. He was destined to be a superstar. But then he gave his nervous, one-sided smile, with all the humbleness of the guy who didn’t know quite how hot he was, which, of course, automatically made him even more so. The vicious cycle of humble hotness.
Craig made a steady beat by slapping his guitar while Jason took the mic, the melody coming only from his voice. He sang slow, low, and soft with only a few notes.
You’re in my heart, you’re in my head
Rattling around, wish it was me instead
It’s a safe place, a wish you well place
A sit back and rest, I need you here space
Wishes swallowed, I hear your voice
Unveil your fears, be your own choice
His voice burrowed into my core. Stunned, my hands pressed at the center of my chest, I breathlessly waited for his next lyrics. Images flooded my mind of our improv moment, our first kiss in the hospital, laughing in rehearsals, him holding me through the night, him fighting for me, despite his loss.
Craig played the guitar—simple, beautiful chords—conjuring up memories of our parents’ wedding, my Ice Princess glares, of him being there for me, hugging me close, being my brother every step of the way.
They worked on this together, made this for me. Craig’s playing grew louder as they opened up the power of their voices for the chorus, their harmonies filling the expansive auditorium with everything they had.
I can’t fix you, but if love could
You are my beacon, you know I would
Travel safely, swiftly along
I will hold you, in my heart and song
You were a stranger, now you’re my home
I want to heal you, down to your bones
I want to heal you, down to your bones
I can’t fix you, but if love could
You are my beacon, you know I would
Travel safely, swiftly along
I will hold you, in my heart and song
They held the last note, making the sound crescendo until it reverberated through my body. Craig stopped playing the guitar and together they sang-spoke again, quietly, taking a beat between every few words, their harmonies filling up the cracks of heartbreak.
I can’t fix you, but if love could
You are my beacon, you know I would
Tears of love and gratitude bubbled and hiccupped out of me, as Craig and Jason bowed their heads. The entire audience was silent. Quinn slipped into the empty chair on the other side of me, and the three of us hugged in our seats, Hana and Quinn’s arms wrapped across me, holding on to each other, too. There were sniffles from the people around us, and Quinn’s tears ran down my temple. Then someone let out a loud “Woooooo!” and in a wave, the audience was on their feet, clapping and cheering for Craig and Jason, whose faces lit up.
I didn’t care that this was a Comedy Hub sponsored show, or whether it was appropriate or not. I rushed to the front of the stage. Craig and Jason kneeled and reached down to hug me. I kissed Craig’s cheek and murmured thank-yous into his ear.
Jason jumped off the stage and pulled me to him, one hand around my waist, the other gently on my neck. He leaned in and kissed me in front of the entire audience, our parents, and the Comedy Hub cameras. I kissed him back like it was the only thing that mattered, everything in me combusting and dissolving into the moment, into him, my body capable of this one sort of magic.
Then the audience started chanting, “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
I laughed, but this time I wasn’t embarrassed.
If it had been a music contest, Craig would have won. But it wasn’t, so Tricia Wilson, her long hair flowing, her white teeth flashing, held the microphone to let us know the winners in each category. “Before I announce the sketch contest winner tonight, I regret to announce that one of the sketch groups was disqualified.”
I had a bad feeling about this.
“Unfortunately, since they broke the rule of having no one outside the listed members of the group assist, the sketch ‘Las Palomas del Disco’ has been disqualified.”
There were boos from the audience. The six of us shared a look of shock.
“I’m so sorry, guys. I never would have asked my dads for help with the costumes if I’d known,” Quinn said. We all waved off her apology in a flurry of more apologies and questions between us about who read the rules. When we realized none of us had, we tried to smother our laughs.
“I don’t actually care that we didn’t win,” Owen said. “I suspected we might be disqualified for copyright infringement, anyway.”
We quietly laughed more as Tricia announced the winning sketch and the members ran up to accept their checks.
“It was never about winning, anyway,” Quinn said as she kissed Owen.
Tricia continued. “However, our producer was so entertained by ‘Las Palomas del Disco,’ that we’ll still post it on our site. Congratulations to both groups!”
“Yes.” Owen jumped up and punched the air. We all high-fived and hugged, unable to contain our excitement that our sketch would be on one of the most popular sites for funny videos.
At this point, I didn’t care who won the standup contest.
Tricia opened up the judges’ envelope and said, “And the grand-prize winner in the standup category, who will take home five-hundred dollars and have the recording of tonight’s performance aired on ComedyHub.com is…Ellie Hartwood!”
Hana and Quinn jumped up and down by my side, squealing. I stood frozen in disbelief until Jason picked me up and swung me around in the space between the front row and the stage. Someone must have replaced my blood with fancy soda, because my heart was about to bust out of my chest. I guess I did care.
“Hey, get up here, girl! You’re our winner.” Tricia cheered.
I headed for the stage, my leg aching a bit from all the quick movements I’d forced on it tonight. Tricia handed me the oversize check, and I held it in front of me, thanking her. My face was one big trembling smile as I looked out at the audience cheering for me, and at the row of all the friends I loved most.
I was the luckiest of the unlucky mutants in the world.
Everyone was hugging me and congratulating me when Dad and Barb cut through the crowd toward us, Barb waving her hand. Dad and Barb made it to the show?
Dad gave me a huge hug. “I’m so proud of you, Ellie. You took what you’re going through and transformed it into something relatable and humorous.” Such a Dad way to say well done, but it was good to hear.
Barb gave me a kiss on the cheek, her perfume practically knocking me out on the spot. “You sure are one funny lady, Miss Ellie.” Ugh. She was trying, but it still hurt not to roll my eyes. Then she said in a quieter, more sincere voice, “I have to say thank you, too.” She gulped, and her eyes got watery. “You have been a good influence on my Craigy. That song he sang for you was too beautiful…for…for words. There he is.” She wiped her eyes and practically pushed people aside to get to Craigy, who was walking down from the sound booth.
Maybe she seemed lame and crazy to me, and maybe I’d never understand her, but the fact she said I was a good influence on Craig had come from a real place. If she hadn’t run away so fast, I would have told her it was the other way around.
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “You leave for New York in the morning?”
“Yep.”
“Will you call after your appointment so I know how it went?”
“I will.”
“Do. And let me know when you schedule your surgery. I’m going to be there even if you tell me you don’t want me there.” He smiled and gave me another hug. “Now, I probably need to rescue Craig before Barb squishes him to death.”
I laughed. “Go, Dad—quick.”
Mom was next, and she swooped me up, hugging me so tight. When she let go, her face glistened with tears. “How did you do that? You amaze me. I’m so lucky to be your mama.”
That got me, and the corners of my mouth quivered. She kissed me on the forehead, and I said, “I’m lucky you are my mama.”
Mom took my hand and was about to say something when Tricia walked up to us. “Ellie, I’m so happy you won. I’ve only known you for about five minutes, but it feels like longer, and I already love you. Is that too much?” She smiled her golden, camera smile and gave me a huge hug. “I can’t wait to see your performance go viral on our site.” She winked.
What does that wink mean? I couldn’t decide which thing in my life was harder to believe. That I had cancer, that I had Jason, that I’d won the comedy contest, or that this celebrity was saying she couldn’t wait to see me successful. For her, I was probably like a Make-a-Wish kid, and she wanted to make me feel good. It worked.
As Tricia flitted off to talk with the winning sketch group, Jason made a beeline for us.
Mom said to him, “That song made me cry. You have an incredible voice.”
His cheeks flushed, and his head dipped. “Thanks, Mrs. Hartwood. I…she…”
Mom saved him by giving him a hug and saying, “You should be very proud of yourself.” Then she kissed me on the cheek. “Have fun with your friends, sweetie. I’ll see you later tonight. Not too late, okay? We have to leave early in the morning.”
When it was just the two of us, he said, “You were amazing up there.” He was practically bouncing, giving off this totally amped-up energy.
“That song.” I let out a puff of air, having difficulty finding words. “That song, your voice…thank you.”
He grinned wide. “Hey, have I ever shown you this grove of trees we have outside the school?”
“A grove of trees? Huh. I’d be very interested in seeing this grove of trees.”
He took my hand, and we found our spot in the grass. The leaves that were solid green a month ago were starting to show off their reds and oranges.
Sitting facing each other, we held hands, the energy from the show thrumming between us. I took a deep breath, and the fresh air helped bring me back to earth just a little. Tomorrow, I left for New York.
The words ‘carpe diem the crap out of everything’ popped into my head. Not romantic words, for sure, but good advice. Jason said he wanted to be with me, and his song made me believe more than ever that his words were true. But no one knew what was next. There was no way I’d expect Jason to stick by me in that kind of unknown. And, if things ended up like a horror movie, there was no way to know if I could handle having him see me like that, or whether I’d be capable of giving anything back.
This was it. Our last time in the grove together. Our last time to be like this with each other for at least a week, maybe for a month or months…possibly forever.
We kissed like we didn’t know when we’d kiss again.
I will miss you Jason.
It was a last chance, a prayer, a good-bye…
Good-bye to this boy, good-bye to this body.