Miles doesn’t look up, still working on his drawing.
“So you got to miss seven weeks of school?” Jasmine asks.
I shake my head. “The show had a private tutor for Carla and me. We were the only two still in high school.”
Jasmine puts the nail polish brush back in the bottle. “Well, I thought you sounded freaking amazing the week you went home. You got robbed being paired with Adam. If it’d been anyone else, you would have stayed.”
Nat sort of snarls at me. “Sounds like she stole the show.”
My stomach turns upside down, and a creepy ick crawls through my chest. He must know. Of course he does. But the rest of them don’t?
Miles glares at him with a warning glance, and Nat rolls his eyes and picks at a sandwich sitting in front of Jasmine, who slaps at his hand.
Greta squirms, pulling her legs into a crisscross position. “I can’t believe you got to sing on stage with Andy Ash. Were you dying?”
I cringe as Miles shuts his sketchpad and stands. “I’m heading in. Nat, why don’t you come with me.”
“Nah, I’m staying with my girl.”
He cozies up to Jasmine who pushes him away with her shoulder. “Get off me, you fool.”
Miles waits for Nat, and he finally lumbers up and they head off.
“We’ve still got some time,” Nicolette says, sitting back on her hands and closing her eyes. She tilts back her chin for maximum sunbathing. “I’m not going in until I absolutely have to.”
“I think I’ll head back to the guitar conservatory,” Shane says.
“I’ll come,” I say.
The girls wave and Dev gives a single lift of his chin and a look like he’s got his eye on me. Great. So the guys know but the girls don’t. I kind of wish they all knew so there were no surprises. I hate surprises…at least ones where everyone finds out I stole their good friend’s future.
Chapter Eight
Miles
I sit behind the board with Nat as he does a sound check for one of the bands trying out for the talent show. He turns the knobs up and down by fractions, his eyes intent, laser focused. As he finishes, he gives a thumbs-up sign to the band, who does the same in return.
“I wish there was some way you could compete,” I say.
He relaxes back in his chair. “Don’t need to. My mom’s had Belmont paid for since I was like fifteen.”
Nat’s mom is a badass attorney. She got pregnant with Nat while she was in law school but figured her way through it with the help of my mom. She watched Nat while his mom worked her way through law school…kept watching him until we started kindergarten. His dad’s never been in the picture, so I’m always careful never to complain about mine around him.
“Oh goody.” He nods at the glass out into the auditorium. “Princess Jenna has entered the building. We can all start the tryouts now.”
“Will you quit it with her? I told you she apologized.”
“I just hate that you won’t let me tell the girls about how she stole your spot. They would totally have your back, man.”
I pull my foot up onto my knee to stretch my leg. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I don’t want you telling them. I don’t want to start World War III at this school. And besides, I’m not proud of what happened.”
He backhands me. “It’s not your fault. You trusted that guy, man.”
I shake my head. “The whole thing is really stupid. I don’t like talking about it. Sometimes I wish I never told you and Dev.”
He holds up his hands. “I’m gonna keep my word and not say anything…even though I don’t agree.”
She sits in the front row with Shane, who looks like he’s just seen the zombie apocalypse. I don’t know why he’s so worried. He’s practically guaranteed a spot.
She puts her hand on his knee and leans in toward him. Are they together?
Nat nods at the two of them. “I see it didn’t take her long to get hooked up with Shane. Big fucking surprise.”
I frown. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Because look at them. They’re so obvious together. Two show-offs.”
“Shane’s only a show-off if you catch him playing as you pass the guitar conservatory,” I say. “He’s all sweaty palms when it comes to stuff like this. Look at him.”
Jenna peers around the room like she’s getting a lay of the land. Her eyes stop as she sees me here in the booth. She opens her mouth in a genuine smile and waves. I wave back.
“God, she’s so fake,” Nat says.
“No, she’s really not.”
“Oh, please. Don’t get caught up in her shit, man. She’s the type of person who would steal someone else’s chance at fame and fortune. What kind of person is that?”
She keeps her gaze trained on mine for a while and then gives her attention back to Shane, who is wiping his palms on his pants.
“Try to see it from her perspective,” I say. “The producers were only taking the next five in line. I wasn’t there, but my number was. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have wanted to do the same thing.”
He shakes his head, pointing at me. “No freaking way, man. You would have said something.”
“Said what? ‘That guy’s in the bathroom’?”
“Yeah, exactly,” he says.
My chair squeals as I spin. “You don’t know what these people were like. They moved fast and spoke quickly with authority. And they didn’t differentiate one of us from the next. Even if she would have said something, they would have just gotten the next in line.”
“You’re too nice, man. Way too nice.”
I grab the table in front of me to hold my chair steady. “You’ve never accused me of that before.”
“I know.” He looks me up and down. “Wait, are you into her?”
“God, no,” I say with a little too much emphasis.
He trains his gaze on me like he might not believe me, but then finally says, “Just making sure. Because she’s not someone for you to get hooked up with, I can promise you that.”
I huff a laugh. “Why would you say that?”
He swivels in his chair to face me head-on. “Because she’s a wannabe. She’s a pop princess who’s obviously dating Shane McCollough. And you’re Miles Fucking Cleveland.”
I laugh. “I’m not anybody.”
“You’re the most talented guy in the school, and you know it. This whole talent show is just a pretense. You know you’re walking away with that money.”
I point at him. “I don’t know that. Statements like that are exactly how people lose.” I point at Lindsey McCoy, who sits on the stage with her feet dangling off. “Lindsey’s getting ready to kill a piece on her violin. Shane’s gonna tear up that guitar, because nervous or not, he can hang with just about any studio musician in this town. And that cotillion cluster you’re always bitching about is getting ready to put on a ballet that could probably bring people to tears. Fuck America’s Newest Sensation. The talent is right here.”
He shrugs. “Understood. At least you won’t have to worry about Jenna edging you out here. She’s on your turf now.”
She makes eye contact with me again and smiles, which makes my stomach do weird stuff. “I wouldn’t discount her, man.”
Nat harrumphs.
“I’m serious. She was good on that show, and Jasmine was right today. If she wouldn’t have been up against Adam Bowling, she probably would have won that round and made it to the finals.”
“She’s a pop princess.”
“She’s more natural on a stage than Beyoncé, dude.”
He huffs.
She stands up below and starts stretching, and I can’t help but get a little excited that I’m going to get to see her perform live.
“She’s a thief,” Nat growls.
She does a twirl, her wild, wavy hair flowing all around, her skirt flying up in a perfect circle around her.
“You’re nuts if you think I belonged on that show and not her. If the two of us had gone hea
d to head in front of judges or America, who do you think they would have voted for? The artsy nerd who stands behind a computer, or that?” I offer my hand toward Jenna as she jumps in place, doing a few little funny dance moves in an effort to make Shane smile, which he does.
Nat waves me off, spinning in his chair lazily. “Pop bullshit.”
I shrug. “Like I said, don’t underestimate her.” I stand. “I’ve got to go warm up.”
“You’re not doing your mash-ups today, are you?”
I shake my head. “No way. I don’t want anyone to see that until the day of the show.”
“What are you trying out with?”
“Just a piece I composed.”
“Piano?” he asks.
I nod and grab my books. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He gives me a salute and then puts his attention back on the board.
I make my way to the piano conservatory. My name’s toward the end of the list, so I know I’ve got some time. I don’t need to watch the others and psych myself out. I’m confident I’ll get a spot, but I never like to take any chances.
Chapter Nine
Jenna
I can’t believe I’m nervous. I thought after Sensation I’d never be nervous taking a stage again. But there’s a big difference between walking out to a mass of people who are told to clap and cheer via flashing signs, and standing in front of a mostly empty auditorium save the forty or so seniors milling around who have either already stood up there and killed their audition, or are getting ready to.
I can’t screw this up for so many reasons. First and foremost, I need that money. I don’t want to get so caught up with paying rent in L.A. that I end up working sixty-hour weeks waiting tables and forget to pursue my dream. One of the girls I was on Sensation with said she had done exactly that. She’d all but forgotten what her original goal was until the Sensation auditions came to L.A.
What may even be as important as the money is beating all these people. There was stiff competition on Sensation, no doubt about it, but these people are seriously good. My parents would be gaping at the girl who played the violin. She was truly amazing. If I let her and all these other people beat me, I’ll be the girl from America’s Newest Sensation who couldn’t even make it to the local talent show. I cannot have that.
Shane’s up, and my heart skitters for him. I’ve only known him five days now, but I feel like I’ve known him since we were kids. We’ve moved easily somehow into this brother/sister type thing. It’s really weird, because he’s hot, I’m not going to lie, and it would make perfect sense for us to hook up. Maybe we’re too much alike. Whatever it is, I really like it just this way, and I don’t want it to change. I need a friend at this new school. I don’t need a guy I’m going to date for two weeks and then not be able to hang with on a daily basis.
I’ve been working with him on his stage fright. He says he has no problem as long as there’s an ensemble up there with him, but performing solo is definitely not his thing. I asked him why he didn’t try to team up with a band, and he said he really needed the money for college. I’m pretty sure Shane’s family is dirt poor. He doesn’t talk about them much, but I get the feeling life at his house isn’t a day at Disney.
He takes the stage, inhaling a deep breath like I told him to. He makes eye contact with me, and I give him a reassuring smile and nod. He straps on his guitar and plugs it into the amp. He glances at the sound booth where Nat sits with one of the teachers. Shane sounded amazing when he did his sound check earlier. If he can replicate that, he’ll be all set.
He acknowledges the panel of judges, which is made up of a bunch of teachers. I instructed him to do that once, and then not to look at them again the rest of his performance. I don’t want him getting inside his own head and screwing himself out of a well-deserved spot. Of course, I plan on taking home the win, but I would hate to make it to the competition and him not. That would make for an awkward next couple of months.
He blows out a deep breath and starts playing, watching his own fingers run up and down the strings. He becomes visibly more comfortable as his performance continues, his mouth moving with the sounds of his guitar.
As he finishes, I clap, but I’m the only one. I swear, these people here are intense. The judges are too busy making notes and whispering to one another to applaud, and the handful of seniors around are probably too scared or nervous.
“Thank you,” one of the judges says to Shane with a wide smile, and he walks off the stage and makes his way toward me.
I grab him. “You sounded awesome! Seriously.”
He eyes the judges. “I totally screwed the bridge. Did you hear that?”
I chuckle. “Not at all.”
“Jenna Quigley!” A judge shouts.
“Good luck,” he says and then collapses into a chair like he’s run a marathon.
As I walk up the stairs to the stage, I’m fine. But when I get in place and make my initial eye contact with the judges, my throat freezes. I’m typically brave, but standing here in this intimate situation is not boding well for my confidence.
I smile and wave. “Hello,” I say, and hold my hands together in front of me.
They all finish up their note taking or whatever, and then give me their attention. I glance to the sound booth with a nod, and notice that Miles is sitting next to Nat where the teacher has been all this time. Part of me is glad I get to perform for him, but the other part wishes he wasn’t in here. I’ve already got my nerves on edge as it is.
I start my Ariel Loveall song. Admittedly, I’m a little shaky at first, but as I move through the verse, I start gaining bits and pieces of my confidence back. As I hit the chorus, I’m full-on having fun, doing what I love to do most in the world…perform. I wrap up the chorus, and one of the female judges smiles at me in a way that pumps me up even higher.
I’m on the second line of the second verse, when all of the sudden, I can’t hear myself in my monitor over the blaring music. I glance at the sound booth, but Nat just sits there, with his elbow on the table, looking all casual. I can still sing, but now I’m nervous that my pitch is off. I honestly have no idea. I put my fingers in my ears, because I can hear myself in my head when I do that, but this isn’t doing much for my performance, which really is a big part of what makes me any good. I glance back at the booth again, and this time, Nat has a grin on his face that lets me know he and Miles are getting their revenge on me, and I’m all on my own.
I pull my fingers out of my ears and hope for the best as I continue with my performance, but now I’m off…way off. I keep telling myself a professional would figure a way out of this, and so I push aside any personal feelings and focus on making it through this tryout.
I finish the last note, and the judges confer like they did with Shane. I glance up at the booth again, and Nat gives a little shrug. Miles stares at me, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion like he has no idea why I just gave the suckiest performance of my life. What an asshole. He stands up and walks out of the booth.
“Thank you, Jenna,” a judge says.
I nod and walk off the stage. I can’t say anything. It’s my word against Nat’s and Miles’s, and I’ll just look like I’m making up excuses for sounding like crap if I say anything.
“Miles Cleveland,” a judge announces. Of course he’s next. He probably planned to go right after me so he could ride off his high of sabotaging my chances at a spot.
I sit next to Shane and he reaches over to me. “You sounded great.”
I stare straight ahead. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Did something happen?” he asks.
If I tell Shane what happened, I’ll need to explain the motivation behind it. I will. It’s only been a week and I’m already itchy from the secret. The truth is, I deserve for this to happen, but it doesn’t keep me from being pissed as hell about it.
Miles sits behind the piano that’s set up on stage and begins his performance. I don’t recognize the piece, bu
t that’s no surprise. He probably wrote it himself if he’s a composer. I want to get up and walk out, but I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to distract him. This crap ends now.
Shane, on the other hand, is gripped by Miles’s performance. His mouth hangs open, and he squeezes the armrest between us. I bet his butt cheeks are clenched.
Miles finishes, and the few people who are left in here applaud. Nobody else has gotten applause. I’ll admit, he is good. Really good.
As he waits for the judges to confer, I get up and walk out of the auditorium. Shane follows me into the hallway. “Are you okay?”
I close my eyes. “Yes, I just…I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” he says. “Are you sure you don’t need to talk?”
I nod and attempt a smile. “Sure. But thanks. Get home. It’s Friday night.”
He checks his phone. “I do need to get to work. We’ll talk tomorrow?”
I nod, and he leaves. I exhale a deep breath and wait for Miles to come out. He pushes through the door and meets my gaze, his expression falling. “Hey.”
I point at him. “We’re even now, okay?”
He frowns. “Even how?”
“I took your number, you sabotaged my chances to get into this contest. We’re even. Can we shake on that?” I hold my hand out to him.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, looking genuinely confused. Oh, he is good.
I point to the auditorium. “I saw you in there with Nat, Miles.”
“So?”
“So you had him cut my monitor. I couldn’t hear myself.”
He jerks his head around to the auditorium and then back to me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I look him up and down. “Oh, please. Don’t act so innocent. It’s what you do.”
“What’s what I do?”
“You screw with other people’s performances. You did it to me last Saturday night at The Glass Vortex.”
He shifts his weight and points at his chest. “You think I did something to sabotage you.”
I toss up my hands. “Yes! You had Nat cut my monitor. I saw you in there with him.”
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