Page 13 of Rocked: The Price of Dreams

He slumped against the door and threw me a tired smile. “If you can put up with noise and chaos, you’re welcome here any time.”

“Thanks. I’d like that, but I don’t mind being by myself. I’m used to it.” I scanned his room. It was tiny. Just enough room for a twin bed, single closet, and a narrow bookshelf that almost reached the ceiling. I ventured over to the shelves covered in CDs and music books. But the one at eye level stole my breath. It was covered in awards and medals, certificates and trophies. I read some of the plaques. Best Male Vocals—Age 7–8, Best Male Performer—Age 12, Best Talent—New Jersey Regionals—Age 10.

“Holy shit.” I spun around. “You won all these.”

“Yeah.” He flopped on his bed, adjusting the pillow behind him against the headrest.

“That is incredible.”

He picked at a rip in his jeans. “You’re the third person to think that.”

“I’m sure more people than your parents think you’re talented.”

“I didn’t include them in the count.” He stared out the window. Sadness flooded his eyes. “Kyle, Mrs. McIntyre, and now you are the only ones who think I’m good.”

“What?” I sank onto the end of the bed. “How can your parents not be proud of you? You’ve won all those awards.”

“They’ve never seen me perform...No, wait. That’s a lie. Mom came to my first talent show when I was six just before she had Jenny. Then she tried to come to a couple of shows when I was about ten, but she had to leave before I even sang because Jenny hated the noise. She hasn’t bothered since.”

“What about your dad?”

He puffed air through his nose. “No chance. All Dad cares about is football—going to Rutgers games with his construction buddies or watching it on TV. He hates me because I don’t want to play ball.”

“Shit.” I rubbed his ankle. “I’m sorry.”

He lowered his chin. “They don’t see how much I love music or how good I am. They let me take lessons and play to keep me out of the way, but they think it’s a waste of time. They don’t believe I can make a career out of performing. Kyle’s mom has always taken me to contests. She’s more of a mom to me than my real one.”

“You’re lucky—you have two moms. Mine literally hates me. She tells me that to my face.”

Hunter’s eyes hooded. “You don’t get along with her, do you?”

“No. I try, but it’s pointless. She only cares about herself and doesn’t care who she hurts or destroys in the process. For as long as I can remember, she’s cheated and lied. I’ve always had to fend for myself, even when Dad was around. I’m amazed my parents stayed together for as long as they did. They were never happy. Mom fucked around at every opportunity. Dad worked long hours to avoid being home. When they were together, they always fought over me and money.” Distant memories drifted through my mind. “The only time I remember being happy was when Dad took me on a week’s vacation every summer to a lake cabin near Clinton. We’d swim and play guitar and eat s’mores. I’d thought he loved me. But when he left, I questioned everything.”

“I feel you.” Hunter rested his head against the wall. “I may as well be on my own. The majority of the time, I don’t exist. Mom is devoted to working at the special school, running the after-school program and looking after Jenny twenty-four-seven. I love my sister and love spending time with her. She’s so sweet and funny. She loves watching The Wiggles DVDs, singing and dancing, and is a Wikipedia of facts and figures. I love taking care of her. Even on the difficult days, when she’s tired, or stubborn, or has gotten super-sensitive to noise or overwhelmed from being around too many people, I want to be there to calm her, stop her from hurting herself or others or breaking everything within reach. But Mom takes over and pushes me aside. I’m in the way or I’m invisible. No one can look after Jenny like she can. Dad rarely offers any assistance.”

“That must be hard. You seem so good with Jenny.”

“Yeah, I am.” Hunter leaned his head back against the wall. “But Mom doesn’t see that. She makes me feel useless and only uses me as a desperate last resort. It sucks. Jenny is her life. Mom never takes a break. She has this huge heart but most days, I don’t feel I’m part of it. I keep telling myself it’s because I can look after my own needs and Jenny can’t. But sometimes I just wish she’d take an interest in me, in what I’m doing. Is that wrong?”

“No.” Hunter clearly loved his mom and craved for some of her attention. Not getting any affection was like walking on stage with no audience present or being shooed off the platform before singing. He just wanted to be seen, appreciated, and adored. Like most of us. “But your mom’s incredible, right?”

“Yeah. She is.” He smiled but no glint shimmered in his eyes. “But the worst thing is, despite Mom never wants my help, when I’m not here, I feel guilty for having a life and loving music.”

“Hunt, you shouldn’t. Maybe she’s giving you the freedom to do those things. You’re so talented. Don’t let anyone or anything stop you from following your dreams.” What would make him feel better about himself, his music, and supporting his mom and Jenny? Oh! I got it. I sat two inches taller. “If you can’t help here at home, why don’t you do something where your mom can see how good you are with Jenny? She runs the after-school program at the special school, right? Why don’t you volunteer there once a month or so? Help out that way. I’ll come with you. I’m sure Kyle will too. We can play music, do singalongs, and entertain the kids. You’d have a very captive audience who’d adore you.”

“Volunteer?” Furrowing his brow, he rubbed and stretched the back of his neck. His eyes clouded over, like he was lost in thought. Then he nodded. “I like that idea, but I can’t ask you to join me.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.” I leaned sideways, resting my hand on the mattress. “It’d give me something worthwhile to do.”

“You’d do that? For me?” Disbelief rocked his tone.

I slapped and rubbed his socked foot. “It’d be for you and the kids. It’d be fun. We’d be helping and doing what we loved.” It wasn’t just for his benefit; I needed to do something that didn’t make me feel like a waste of air, a mistake, or useless. The more I got to know Hunter, the more I discovered we had a lot in common.

“Too fucking right.” The spark reignited in his eyes. “I’d do anything to help Jenny and play music. I love my sister and want her to have the best care, but fuck, I can’t wait to get out of this shitty town. I’m gonna live life to the fullest, be a star, play music every day. Too hell with what my parents say.”

“Same.”

“You’re pretty awesome, Gem.”

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