by L A Cotton
I knew they wouldn’t want it. But if I did win, I’d already decided I wanted them to have it. I wanted to make life easier for them.
After everything, they deserved it.
“No Molly today?” Dad asked over the top of his newspaper.
“She’s on twin duty.”
“Ahh, I see. She’s a good egg that one.”
“She’s the best.”
“You know if you wanted to get out of the house and spend some time with her, me and your mom would be okay with that.”
“I know, Dad.”
He let out a heavy sigh, shaking out the pages and folding them neatly. “It’s just… you got the all clear almost six months ago and you barely leave the house—”
“I leave the house.”
“Grocery shopping with Mom does not count. You’re almost eighteen, Eva. You should be out there with your friends, gettin’ into mischief.”
“Mischief? Really, Dad? Mom would loooove that.”
He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and that made my chest deflate. “You have so much to live for, sweetheart. So much. But I can’t help but feel like you’re...” he hesitated, his face saying everything he didn’t want to.
“I know, Dad. I’m trying, I am. I’m doin’ the showdown.” I perked up, trying to reassure him.
Gavin Walker was a strong man. Solid and supportive, there was nothing more he treasured than providing a home and good life for me and Mom. But he was different since my diagnosis. The fire in his eyes had dimmed.
It was just another thing I’d lost to cancer.
“And don’t you worry about your mom. She means well but we both know she projects.” He leaned forward and shifted his eyes from side to side, as if he was about to share some guarded secret with me. “She called my boss twice last week because I was late home. I know she worries after... it’s hard for her, but I’m a grown man.” His tone was playful, but it didn’t match the sadness in his eyes.
“She’s just extra protective now.”
“And we love her for it,” Dad exaggerated the words as if he expected her to walk in at any second. When she didn’t, he added, “It might take you to make the first move, sweetheart. Show her you’re ready to be a normal seventeen-year-old kid again. Get out there and live a little.”
If only it were that easy. Mom might have agreed with me entering the Talent Showdown. That was safe. Structured and predictable. She could prepare. Not to mention the fact she was going to be there. But me being a regular teenager, that was something she couldn’t control, and Mom was all about being in control these days.
Not that I blamed her. She’d watched her only daughter try to outrun Death for the best part of a year.
“I don’t know, Dad,” I said. “I think I should probably start small.”
“I hear you, kiddo. But just remember, you can’t make you mark on the world hidin’ up in that bedroom of yours.” He got up and came over to me to touch my head. “I’m going to make a sandwich, I’m starved. Want anythin’?”
“I’m good, thanks, Dad.” Eating was a chore these days, just another side effect of chemo apparently. I usually made myself eat a wholesome breakfast and Mom watched over me like a hawk at dinner, but I preferred to graze.
Besides, with the weight of his words—Mom’s words—pressing down on me, I couldn’t have eaten.
Even if I wanted to.
“Well would y’all take a look at that.” Molly let out a low whistle beside me, squeezing my hand a little tighter.
She wasn’t wrong.
The Ploughton Convention Center was a hive of activity; lines of spectators already winding into the building. We followed the signs marked ‘contestants’, bypassing the crowd, and slipped inside.
“Contestant?” A stern-faced woman asked Molly who thumbed to me. “She is.”
“Check in is over there.” She waved us through. Molly burrowed close into my side and whispered, “Someone really loves their job.”
“Ssh,” I scolded.
“Oh come on, Eva, she had a stick the size of Tennessee shoved up her—” My hand clamped over her mouth.
“I’m not sure I can do this.” The words spilled out, the knot in my stomach twisting and tightening. My hand found my guitar strap, squeezing, as my eyes darted wildly around the room.
“Eva, look at me.” Molly’s face filled my vision. “Breathe, okay? Just take a deep breath.”
Sucking in greedily, I let the recycled air fill my lungs, slowing my racing pulse. “I’m okay.” I forced a smile.
“Eva...” Molly didn’t look convinced, but I shook my head a little, inhaling another deep breath.
“Promise,” I added. “Come on, I should probably get checked in.”
Mom and Dad had wanted to come in with me, but I hadn’t wanted an entourage, and honestly, it was bad enough being around Molly with her overzealous excitement. So we’d compromised. Molly would accompany me backstage, and Mom and Dad would wait until my fate was decided. Mom had wanted to protest, to insist she came, but Dad offered to take her across the street to the local mall. That way she was close by, but she wasn’t breathing down my neck.
The desk came into view, but I ground to an abrupt halt when a blur of denim and flannel blocked my path. “Rude much,” Molly muttered, letting out an exasperated breath.
The guy chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I could talk dirty to you all day darlin’.”
“Ugh, could you be any lamer?”
“You’re here for the showdown?” He eyed the Gibson strapped to my back.
“Aren’t we all?” I quipped.
“Guess I walked right into that one.” He raked a hand through unruly sandy-blond hair. “I’m Josiah Golden.” His expression held a certain kind of expectation, as if we should know his name.
“That’s... nice for you.” I nudged Molly, shooting her a ‘play nice’ glare. “I’m Molly. This is Evangeline Walker, my best friend and your stiff competition.”
“Mol,” I whisper-hissed, feeling myself flush.
“Oh, it’s that like, is it?” Josiah grinned. “You think you got what it takes to win this thing?”
“Oh, I know she does,” Molly answered, oblivious to the fact I was slowly shrinking in on myself, silently praying the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
Josiah’s gaze lasered in on me as if he was sizing up the competition, searching for any signs of weakness.
It occurred to me he probably was.
“I do the competition circuit a lot and I’ve never heard of you before.”
“I...” I froze, but right on cue, before he could even notice my hesitation, Molly added, “Yeah, well, Josiah, you know what they say, actions speak louder than words.”
I smothered a smile. Molly was fierce and I was both relieved and pleased to have her in my corner. Even if she didn’t know when to quit it.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” her brow rose, “I think the back of the line is right behind us.” She winked at him and pulled me around him.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I whispered.
“Babe, if you’re goin’ to survive this thing, you need to learn to play the game.”
“Game?” I blinked, confused.
“People like Goldenboy,” she said his name loud enough that Josiah had to have heard her, “are a dime a dozen. They think they’re the bees knees. But don’t let his bravado fool you. Your talent comes from in here, Eva, babe.” She pointed right at my heart. “Don’t ever forget it.”
I glanced back at Josiah. His lips quirked up, a wicked glint in his eye as he let his gaze slide down my body and slowly back up. Quickly, I turned back around, a violent shudder rolling through me.
“Hey, you okay?” Molly asked as we reached the front of the line.
“Yeah.” Doubt edged into my voice.
“Next.” The woman beckoned me over.
“You’ve got this.” Molly gave me a thumbs up, tipping her
head in a ‘go on’ motion.
“Next!” The woman sounded impatient and Josiah snickered behind me.
Rolling back my shoulders, I hitched my guitar higher. “You can do this,” I whispered. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other and walk.
“Okay, Group A, we’re ready for you,” the stocky production director, Colton Manners, wafted his clipboard in the air.
“Eeek,” Molly clapped, “this is it.”
I wiped my clammy hands down my jeans before picking up my guitar. Since arriving at the Ploughton Conference Center, I’d been a big ol’ ball of nerves. The morning had been a blur of rehearsals and briefings. Molly had been glued to my side the whole time, doing her best to shield me from the competition; the overwhelming hustle and bustle. She’d even stepped in after Josiah tried to strike up a conversation again. I didn’t like him; his leering gaze and sly smirk. But I wanted to avoid a confrontation.
People from all walks of life huddled close to listen to Colton. I found myself wondering about their stories, the path they’d walked to get to this point. Some of them seemed completely at ease among the chaos, taking it all in their stride. But a few people, me included, were on edge. Strained smiles and trembling hands, we stood out against the sea of semi-professional competitors. Much to my irritation, Josiah Golden fit in the first category.
Even more annoying, he was assigned to my group.
“Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once.” Colton stared out at us. “You hear your name announced, you get out on stage. First round y’all get two minutes apiece. We have backing tracks prepped and ready. Those of you playing your own instruments should have already been briefed on the do’s and don’ts. Any questions so far?”
One hand went up, and Colton tipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Do I have time to take a leak?” A tall thin guy wearing a Stetson and flannel shirt asked.
“Do I look like your mother? As long as you’re back here in time to hear your name, I don’t care what you do or where you do it.”
“Apparently Colton also loves his job,” Molly whispered, smothering a snicker. I elbowed her in the ribs. The last thing I wanted was to be singled out by the production director. My stomach was already awash with nerves.
“Ten minutes to curtains up,” someone yelled, causing a burst of anticipation to ripple around our group.
Colton didn’t look pleased though. His expression was pissed as he touched his earpiece and listened to whoever was on the other end.
“Problem, Colt?” That was Josiah. He’d been nothing but a kiss ass all morning, reveling in the fact he knew most of the production staff.
“Just running a little behind schedule.”
“Let me guess,” my competitor replied. “One of your judges is late?”
Molly stilled beside me.
“Do you think he means Hudson?” I asked her quietly.
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen him yet.” And it wasn’t for lack of trying. Molly was one hundred percent here for me, but I knew she also desperately wanted to catch a glimpse of the Black Hearts Still Beats drummer.
“That’s what you get for askin’ a rock star to judge a country music talent contest,” Josiah said out of Colton’s earshot, and to no one in particular.
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Goldenboy?” Molly’s brow rose.
“Jealous… of them? Not likely, darlin’.”
Colton was paying us no attention now. He’d stepped away to continue his two-way radio conversation.
“Molly,” I warned, not wanting her to make a scene.
“Sorry, babe, but I’ve listened to him go on all mornin’.” She swung around to face Josiah again. “If he’s that talented, that good, how come he’s still here, enterin’ talent contests? Enlighten us, Goldenboy, please.”
“Perfection is a long time in the makin’, sweetheart.” He stepped closer, his smirk growing. “But mark my words, one day, it’ll be my name on your lips.”
“Okay, okay, this is just gettin’… weird.” I ducked in between them, everyone else watching on with amusement. Josiah clearly had a reputation here and people either lapped up his antics or observed him like he was a science project. Either way, he wasn’t someone I wanted to encourage.
Neither of them backed down, eyes locked on the other.
“Mol—”
A commotion behind us caught my attention and I turned just as Molly shrieked, “It’s him! It’s Hudson Ryker.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing, all heads turning to watch Hudson Ryker as he cut across the room toward Colton, whose expression turned from pissed to relieved to awe all in the space of a second, just like the rest of the room.
Except unlike everyone else, I wasn’t sure I was awed by him, so much as everyone else’s reaction to him. Like Levi Hunter, Hudson emanated darkness. It shrouded him like a black thundercloud. But unlike his bandmate, when he stopped near our small group and smiled, his whole demeanor shifted.
“Sorry I’m late, y’all,” he drawled, giving Colton a small nod. “I got… held up. You know how it is.” His easy smile grew, and Molly grabbed my arm, squeezing so tight I was sure she’d cut off the circulation. When I glanced over at her, I realized she was barely holding on. My best friend wasn’t just awed, she was completely starstruck. It was an odd thing to watch her, a girl full of words and opinions, rendered speechless.
“Anyway, I suppose I’d better get out there.”
“What, no words of encouragement for us?” Josiah called after him, stopping Hudson in his tracks. The drummer turned slowly, the light hitting his brow piercing, and smiled again. But this time it held an edge of annoyance.
“Good luck out there today. I’m excited to see what y’all have for us.” And with that very short, very underwhelming proclamation, he disappeared through the thick curtain.
“Are you okay?” I immediately checked on Molly who was deathly still beside me. “Molly?”
“I think I’m in love.” She clutched her chest.
At least it wasn’t my hand.
“Love, really?” I joked. “If that’s all it takes to win you over, I’m surprised you—”
“Oh, hush. You’re ruinin’ the moment.”
“Moment? There was a moment just now? Because from where I was standin’, it looked like—”
But there was no time to finish my sentence because Colton yelled, “First up is Kelly Inkin, you’re on in five. Evangeline Walker, get ready because you’re up second.”
“I don’t think I can do this,” I rushed out.
Molly snapped into action, grabbing my hand and yanking me away from the group. “Eva, breathe.”
I inhaled deeply. “It’s not workin’,” I confessed, panic crashing over me like a stormy sea.
“Go to the restroom and splash some water on your face. You have time. I’ll stay here and stall if necessary, okay?”
“I—”
“Eva,” Molly narrowed her eyes at me, “you can do this. You have to do this.”
Glancing toward the door I knew led to the restrooms, I weighed up my options. It would have been easy, so easy to leave… and never come back. To flee the showdown and go back to hiding away in my bedroom, trying to shut out life. But deep down, I knew it couldn’t go on for much longer. School was right around the corner. If I wanted to graduate with my class, I needed to complete senior year.
“Eva—”
“I got it, I got it.” The words spilled out in a rush of breath. I could do this.
All I needed was a little faith.
And while my faith had recently been tested to the point of wavering, I knew Molly, Mom, and Dad had enough to get me through.
I stared out at the judges; my Gibson cradled in front of me like a shield.
“Evangeline Walker?”
“Y- yes, Sir,” I answered the judge.
“Don’t look so worried,” he smiled warmly. “We don’t bite.”
“We might no
t, Garth,” a petite woman with gray-blonde curly hair said, “But we can’t speak for the young ‘uns among us.” She slid her heavily made up eyes to the other judges on the panel: Hudson Ryker and an emerging country star I recognized as a finalist from last season’s Nashville’s Star.
“No bitin’ here. I’m Sara Lou, and you look real pretty.” She seemed genuine and her reassuring smile made the knot in my stomach loosen somewhat. Until my eyes found Hudson. He was studying me. Giving nothing away. Running his eyes over every inch of my outfit of worn denim jeans, thong sandals, and my favorite pale blue blouse over a white tank, tied at the midriff.
Molly had given me the lowdown on him during the ride here. He was nineteen. Barely two years older than us. But he sat there, behind his judge’s name placard, as though he was so much older and wiser. And maybe he was. Maybe being a rock star on the brink of world fame made you grow up quicker.
Whatever it was, there was something about him that made me feel uncomfortable.
“I only bite when provoked,” he said in a way I didn’t quite understand. Did he mean it as a threat? Or a general statement? The smile tugging his lips suggested it was a joke, but there was something in his eyes. Something darker.
A violent shiver rolled up my spine.
“Are y’all ready to wow us?” Sarah Lou asked.
“I hope so,” I barely choked out the words.
During my preparation for today, I’d assumed the worst part would be performing for the live audience in the final round, if I made it there. But now I was here, standing in front of four judges with nothing but the guitar over my shoulder and trepidation in my veins, I knew I’d underestimated just how hard this would be.
“Take your time, sweetheart,” Garth said with nothing but warmth and understanding.
I adjusted the strap of my Gibson and ran my fingers over the fret board, finding a comfortable position. “This is called, ‘Look for Me’.”
Eyes closed, heart in my throat, I inhaled a calming breath and strummed the first chord letting my words follow.