Totally Unrelated by Tom; Ryan Page B

directed straight at me. It feels awesome. I glance at Kathy, who winks at me and gives me a subtle thumbs-up.
    The rest of the show is a doozy. I’ve got adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the rest of my family is obviously having as much fun as I am. When the girls are dancing, it’s like they’re floating on air. When Mom and Dad do a piano and fiddle duet, the music sounds pure and perfect. Even Johnny’s pipes seem to have a mind of their own, blasting out confidently whenever they’re needed.
    Best of all is the audience. People are soaking us up, shouting and clapping and dancing in circles with each other. They scream so much at the end of the show that we give them three encores, the last songs of the night coinciding with a beautiful sunset. It’s like something out of a movie. I glance down at one point and spot Sandy and her family near the front of the stage. She throws both her hands up and waves at me excitedly, as if she’s been watching me this whole time, waiting for me to see her.
    I’m on such a high after the show that I’m almost vibrating. I’ve been doing this for years, but for the first time I really feel like I’m a full member of the band. I don’t even mind when Dad motions for us to follow him into the crowd when we’re finished.
    An old woman comes up to me and grabs me by both hands.
    â€œI moved to Boston when I was sixteen years old,” she tells me. “I used to come home every year, but after my husband died I stopped coming altogether. The last time I was home to Cape Breton was almost twenty years ago. I was worried that everything would be different. And it’s so nice to learn that the important things have stayed the same.”
    She stops talking, and her eyes fill up with tears.
    â€œYou people keep the music alive,” she says. “God bless you.”
    She glances past me and smiles, then leans in to whisper to me. “You know,” she says, “girls love a good musician.”
    I turn around and see that Sandy is standing right behind me, waiting her turn.
    â€œThanks very much,” I say to the lady. She smiles and pats me on the arm before moving away into the crowd.
    I turn to Sandy. “What did you think of the show?” I ask.
    She grins widely. “Are you kidding me?” she says. “You were so good, Neil. You were great the first time I saw you, but it was like you were possessed tonight!”
    â€œThanks,” I say. “It was fun. Dad let me—” But I don’t have the chance to finish, because she’s leaning into me and kissing me, full on the lips, with all these people around. For a moment I don’t know what to do, but I pull myself together and return the kiss.
    She steps back and smiles. “I don’t know why I did that,” she says.
    â€œIt’s okay,” I manage to squeak out.
    â€œListen,” she says. “I have to go. But we’re going to practice tomorrow, right?”
    â€œDefinitely,” I say.
    â€œOkay,” she says, and for a second we stand there smiling goofily at each other. “I’ll text you tomorrow,” she says. Then she disappears into the crowd.
    I stumble back to the side of the stage, where a steady line has formed at Gran’s merch table.
    â€œI have to say, boy,” says Gran as she counts out money and shoves T-shirts into bags, “I’ve seen every show you guys have ever done, and this was one of your best nights, hands down.”
    I have to agree with her. We’ve just finished one of our most awesome shows ever, I’m playing the best guitar of my life, in less than a week we’re going to be opening for a music superstar, and the girl I like just made the first move on me . I doubt I’ve ever had a better night in my life.
    Of course, it would be too much to ask for it to last.

Eleven
    I’m lost in my thoughts and don’t realize that