When Devils Sing(17)

“Yeah, I remember,” Neera said, hesitating for a moment. Taking him in. “Well, thank you.”

Isaiah Johnson had been Neera’s first real friend. She and her mom had moved so much while she was growing up—her childhood a whirl of ever-changing zip codes and schools—she’d never lived anywhere long enough to make a lasting friend. Until Isaiah, friendships had been strictly made from survival.

But that had changed the summer Neera was eight. Her mom had dropped her off at a daycare on the outskirts of Carrion. Inside, her eyes had been drawn straight to a boy playing a Nintendo DS by himself. He was playing The Legend of Zelda, and Neera badly wanted to join. But she knew from experience that expecting someone to share was a losing battle. She hesitated, looking around the room at the other kids, their friendships and hierarchies already formed. At least the Nintendo boy was alone.

Neera sat beside him, content to just watch him play.

He offered his DS to her almost immediately. “You wanna try?”

Isaiah and Neera became fast friends.

And for a long time, they stayed that way; no matter where Neera moved to, they picked up each summer like no time had passed. But their friendship faded after Ajay. Neera stopped responding to Isaiah’s texts, ignored his calls, no longer feigned connection through social media.

Everything good in Neera’s life had withered away after what happened three years ago.

“What’re you doing in Carrion?” Neera asked as they each took a seat at the lobby table. “I thought you’d be moved up to Massachusetts by now.” She’d seen his college announcement during her brief return to Instagram a while back. She quickly added, “Congratulations on Harvard, by the way. I always knew you’d get in.”

“Thank you.” Isaiah’s tone was distant but appreciative. “My father actually got me a law internship up at Lake Clearwater. But I also wanted one last summer in Carrion, you know? It’s supposed to be a special one this year.” He angled his chin toward the window. “The cicadas are … interesting, aren’t they? I barely remember them as a kid.”

“They’re certainly something.”

Isaiah cleared his throat. “What about you—how’ve you been? Business still good?”

“Everything’s … fine,” Neera lied. She looked down at her hands in her lap. Her knuckles were chafed and dry from all the scrubbing she’d done the night before. There she was, still at the same motel in the same shit rural town, with not a thing to show for herself.

Then there was the death of Ajay. The black hole that lived in the corner of her vision, widening just a little with each day. Sometimes, it felt like her grief was a force on the scale of a hurricane. How was she? How could she answer that truthfully?

Three years ago, the sun went out in my life, and it never returned.

Neera turned her palms over, brown eyes lingering on the guitar calluses on the tips of her fingers. Despite everything, there was one thing greater than her grief. She finally offered Isaiah a genuine smile. “I’m trying out for the Cicada’s Song. My mom scored me an audition.”

Isaiah’s eyes lit up a little. “Whoa. That’s big, Neera. When is it?”

“Today, actually.” Neera’s stomach twisted. “Can’t say I’m not scared out of my mind.”

“You’ll do great. You’ve always been incredible at guitar.” Isaiah leaned back in his chair, eyes turning toward the ground. He was still for a beat. “Ajay would be proud.”

Neera’s breathing hitched. No one spoke Ajay’s name aloud since he died. Names were tricky like that. In the Singh family, his memory was buried so deeply Neera was shocked he was remembered at all. Not even a photo of him remained in their rooms, on their walls. They had all but erased him from their lives.

Even for her, the only way Neera could bear to remember Ajay was through guitar strings and sheet music. Anything more and she’d come undone.

Isaiah got a faraway look in his eyes. “You know, I’ll never forget that time you got picked up from daycare early—it was your birthday, right? We looked outside and your uncle was sitting in his truck bed with his guitar, singing that song he wrote for you. Everyone was cheering. It was like a little concert.” He looked at Neera again, his brow furrowing. “Did I say something wrong?”

Neera shook her head. Despite how precious the memory was to her, she worked to get the words around the tightness in her throat. “We don’t really talk about Ajay anymore.”

His name burned in her mouth.

Isaiah’s expression turned solemn. “I’m sorry … I was just—I was just trying to…” Discomfort flashed across his face. It was a look that Neera knew well. The face of someone who hadn’t yet experienced grief in the way she had.

“It’s all right.” But it wasn’t, really. It was never going to be all right.

The loss—it was something that happened to Neera. An unspeakable thing that gnawed away at her with every passing day. There was only the time before Ajay passed and there was the time after. Living in the after didn’t feel much like living at all.

Neera inhaled through her nose, willing herself back under control, returning to the present moment. She found Isaiah studying her with his watchful eyes. “What is it?”

“I’m curious,” Isaiah began slowly. “Do you still get many locals renting a room these days?”