Если я останусь

           Dad’ssnaredrumfromthehouse,Henry’sguitarfromhiscar,Adam’sspareguitarfrommyroom.Everyonewasjammingtogether,singingsongs:Dad’ssongs,Adam’ssongs,oldClashsongs,oldWiperssongs.Teddywasdancingaround,theblondofhishairreflectingthegoldenflames.Irememberwatchingitallandgettingthatticklinginmychestandthinkingtomyself:Thisiswhathappinessfeelslike.

           Atonepoint,DadandAdamstoppedplayingandIcaughtthemwhisperingaboutsomething.Thentheywentinside,togetmorebeer,theyclaimed.Butwhentheyreturnedtheywerecarryingmycello.

           "Oh,no,I’mnotgivingaconcert,"Isaid.

           "Wedon’twantyouto,"Dadsaid."Wewantyoutoplaywithus."

           "Noway,"Isaid.Adamhadoccasionallytriedtogetmeto"jam"withhimandIalwaysrefused.Latelyhe’dstartedjokingaboutusplayingair-guitar-air-celloduets,whichwasaboutasfarasIwaswillingtogo.

           "Whynot,Mia?"Kimsaid."Areyousuchaclassical-musicsnob?"

           "It’snotthat,"Isaid,suddenlyfeelingpanicked."It’sjustthatthetwostylesdon’tfittogether."

           "Sayswho?"Momasked,hereyebrowsraised.

           "Yeah,whoknewyouweresuchamusicalsegregationist?"Henryjoked.

           WillowrolledhereyesatHenryandturnedtome."Prettyplease,"shesaidassherockedthebabytosleepinherlap."Inevergettohearyouplayanymore."

           "C’mon,Mee,"Henrysaid."You’reamongfamily."

           "Totally,"Kimsaid