Page 62 of The Layover

“The Italian word for Harmony is armonia. It means two people who sing a beautiful song together. Which is the one thing that’s even more fun here than hide and seek. Do you want to see?”

She was watching me with wide, curious eyes. “Yes.”

I took her hand and led her to the front of the chapel, where the choir traditionally stood. “This is where people sing from.” I showed her the spot for the soloist. “Do you want to try?”

She stepped forward, looked out over the room and the entire group watching us, and ran back to my side. “No.”

“What’s your favorite song?” I asked her.

“Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

I looked up at Daria, who shrugged.

There were far worse answers, and at least I knew the lyrics to that one. “I guess I’ll have to sing it alone, but then it won’t be armonia.”

“I’ll sing with you.” Carly joined us. She knelt to look Harmony in the eye. “You don’t have to stay up here.”

Harmony grabbed her hand.

Faint, tinny music reached our ears, and I realized Adam was holding up his phone, and the song was playing.

I wasn’t a singer. As a child they specifically kept me off the choir, mostly because I was incapable of keeping a beat. But I did love singing along to the music anyway, and Carly carried the tune beautifully, so she kept me on track.

As we headed into the second verse, Harmony joined us. Her voice was tiny and tentative at first, but by the chorus she was singing along at the top of her lungs. Carly swooped her into her arms.

By the end of the song, everyone in the chapel was singing. It was loud and out of tune and one of the most glorious sounds I’d ever heard. When we finished, I turned to Harmony. “That was armonia.”

“I like it.” She grinned.

Carly set her on the ground, and Harmony ran back to Daria. “And people say musicals are unrealistic,” Carly said to me. “Tell me you’ve never done that before.”

“I haven’t.” It was true. “But the situation seemed to call for it.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling. “I might think it was super sweet that you’re good with everyone’s kids, if I wasn’t a bitter old bachelorette.” Her tone was light and her voice soft.

“No talking like that,” I scolded her. “Or I’ll spank you.”

“Promises promises.” Carly spun away on her toe, her smirk never fading, and headed back to her friends.

I joined them, and we continued our tour with renewed enthusiasm.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” Daria’s exclamation came out of nowhere.

Carly gave her a warning look.

Odd reaction.

“Forgot what?” Diego stepped right through that open conversation door.

Daria looked at him and me. “The two of you need to come to Carly’s birthday celebration. Night after tomorrow. Bring your girl, unless you have plans.”

Did Carly just growl? And how much did Daria know about what had happened between the three of us.

I already knew what Diego’s answer would be, and I shouldn’t play along. A birthday party with friends was innocent enough, but it felt like every extra moment spent with Carly was another excuse. Another reason to forget she wasn’t a permanent part of our lives.

“We’d love to,” I said.

Diego’s phone rang, and when he said, “It’s Ariana,” Ice ran through my veins, and I halted abruptly.

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