* * *
I brought in my laptop during the week, so we could work on editing the video. I rehearsed every chance I got. Every minute I got the house to myself, I practiced. I practiced in my car to and from school. Auditions were at the end of the week. I was ready as I would ever be.
Before I knew it, the week was over. Friday after school, I went to the auditorium. Part of me wanted to go first, to get it over with and so no one could compare me against who I followed. Mrs. Marshall and two other teachers were on the judging panel. The auditorium itself was about a quarter full. Some of the students were there to audition, others were there to support their friends.
Mrs. Marshall posted the order of auditions. I was fourth. Two of the girls, Jackie and Grace, before me were great singers. They had private lessons and had been singing since elementary school. I really wished that I didn’t have to follow them. I sat in the back row center of the auditorium to wait for my turn. My heart pounded as I waited.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Patrick walk down my row toward me. I wasn’t expecting him to come.
“Hey, Liz.”
“Hi. I see you’re working on accessorizing. Nice purse.” If I wasn’t so nervous, I would have laughed.
He held up the pink and brown plaid purse. “You think? I didn’t think it matched my shoes, but I like to live on the edge of fashion.” He laughed.
“Well, it does make a statement.”
“It’s Becca’s. She’s in the restroom.” He explained.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice?”
“We have a game tonight. So, no practice. It’s at Pines Academy. You’re welcome to come…” His face lit up when he talked about the game.
I interrupted him. “Thanks. But I don’t think so. My folks won’t let me. They’re letting me go to tomorrow, so I’m not pushing my luck.”
“That’s what I figured. But I thought I’d ask.” He sounded a little disappointed. He quickly changed the subject. “Anyway…tomorrow. Andy and I will pick you up at around 2:00.”
“Okay. Did the directions I gave you make sense?” I hoped they did. I really suck at directions. Even to my own house. It wasn’t like I had a bunch of people coming over to hang out at my place, so the only time I had given directions out was to relatives. And I rarely did that.
“Yeah. But, just in case, I have GPS. So, I should be fine.”
Becca walked up to us. “Paddy, who’s the stray?”
Patrick turned to her and shook his head. “Becca, this is Liz.” He pointed to me. He looked at me. “Liz, Becca, my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” I suddenly felt microscopic and insignificant. She was tall, but then again just about anyone was taller than me, with long beautiful highlighted blond hair that was movie perfect. She carried this attitude like nothing bothered her. Clearly, she got what she wanted. The purse that Patrick held for her matched her outfit perfectly. I wore clothes. She wore outfits.
“Liz the lab partner?” She asked him.
“Yes.” Never thought that it was part of my name, but okay.
“Hi, Liz. Hope he doesn’t bore you with all that science stuff, like he does with me. Just do what I do, nod and let him do whatever and it’ll be painless.” She really believed that. I couldn’t believe it. She actually thought she was offering useful advice.
“Umm…” I looked at Patrick. What was I supposed to say to that?
“Becca, there are girls that like science. Liz does.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” She was impatient. Or bored. I couldn’t tell.
“Go? I thought you wanted to watch the auditions.” He was puzzled.
“Well, yeah. But I want to sit with Grace.” She grabbed her purse from him and started to walk away. “Come on.”
He slowly stood up, looked at me and rolled his eyes. “I gotta go. Well, good luck.”
Becca turned back. “Good luck? Oh, Liz…you’re trying out?”
“Yeah, I am.” There was no reason to hide it, she would find out soon enough.
“Well, then…good luck. You’re gonna need it.” She was snide.
“Becca!” Patrick was shocked at her remark.
“What?! She does… If she thinks she’s better than Grace.” She didn’t seem to have the ability to be honest and polite at the same time. Maybe she didn’t care. She was snotty. I didn’t know her, but I already didn’t like her. I didn’t get a good feeling from her.
“How would you know?” He challenged.
“Paddy, let’s go already.” She took his hand and pulled him in her direction.
He whispered to me, “Ignore her.”
Becca wrapped her arms around him as they walked to the front to sit with Grace.
As expected, Jackie was amazing. She exuded confidence and poise. She knew she was good, everyone did. Her friends cheered as she hit the final notes of her song. The audience applauded loudly at the end.
It went pretty much the same way with Grace. Her voice filled the auditorium. She looked like a natural on stage. She hit every note perfectly. The cheers and applause for her were just as loud as for Jackie. I saw Becca jump up enthusiastically and give Grace a hug once she got back to her seat.
I didn’t envy the teachers judging. I couldn’t pick between the two of them. Why did I think I could do this? Maybe Becca was right. At least I wasn’t immediately after them. I took solace in that. My stomach was doing cartwheels. My pulse raced.
The next girl up was very nervous. She had a good voice, but definitely wasn’t trained like Grace and Jackie. The song she picked didn’t completely suit her voice, there were some notes she missed that were out of her range. I could tell that she tried her best and she was proud of that. Polite applause came from the audience. Her friends cheered and hugged her when she was done. As mean as it sounded, since she wasn’t really good, I had to sound better than her. Please, God, let me be better than her.
No one left after the other girls. Why would they? It was free entertainment for the afternoon. I wish they had. It would have been fewer people to do this in front of.
Mrs. Marshall called my name. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest and I had to remember to breathe. I thought I was going to be sick. I stood at center stage and waited for my music to start. As I looked down into the audience, I noticed Patrick and Becca in the front row. They were sitting with Grace and her friends. Becca rolled her eyes and whispered something to Grace, who laughed.
No, can’t let them distract me. I have to focus. In about four minutes, it will all be over. I took a deep cleansing breath just as “On My Own” from Les Miserables began to play.
The song was a blur to me. I don’t remember if I hit every note or if you could hear me at all. I just remember getting lost in the music. I blocked everything and everyone out and just sang. It felt good. I felt relaxed, until I realized where I was and who I was standing in front of. Then I got tense and self-conscious again. There was no loud cheering section of friends for me. That was fine, I could deal with that. But what was unnerving was the momentary silence afterwards. It was eerie. Those couple seconds of silence seemed to last forever. It made me wonder how bad I did, was I on-stage in my underwear or something? Was I so off-key? When I heard the clapping, I was so preoccupied with why there was delay that I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or polite. It seemed okay.
I looked at the clock on the wall and saw the time. I hurried off stage as quickly as I could without tripping. I grabbed my backpack and rushed out the door. I needed to get home. I was supposed to make dinner tonight.
“Hey, wait up!” A voice called out.
I stopped and turned around. Patrick had followed me out.
“You sure you don’t run track? ‘Cause you can be really fast when you want to be.” He teased.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled. “Why’d you take off like that?”
“I need to get home.” I shrugged. I needed some affirmation that I
didn’t look stupid. “I did okay, didn’t I?”
“What do you mean?” His voice was incredulous. “You were amazing.” His response seemed authentic.
“Yeah, right.” I scoffed.
“That’s why everyone was speechless. They didn’t see you coming. Didn’t you hear the applause?”
“Yeah, I did.” When I thought about it, it did sound more than polite applause. It was better than the girl I followed. “But I won’t hold my breath. Grace and Jackie were great. If I didn’t sound totally lame compared to them, then I’m happy.”
“Then you should be thrilled.” He was sweet.
“Thanks.” I forced a quarter-smile.
“Hey, I’m not just trying to be nice here. Truth, remember?” His brows scrunched together and raised, trying to remind me of his promise.
“I remember. Thank you.” I relaxed a little and gave him a more appreciative smile.
“No problem.” He beamed.
“I need to get home. I’ll see you tomorrow. 2:00, right?”
“Yeah. 2:00.” He nodded.
As I drove home, I felt pretty good about my audition. I did the best I could. No one laughed, they seemed impressed. I didn’t need to get the solo to feel good about myself. Doing well today and hearing their appreciation for it was validating. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that it would be nice to get it. If I strived for something, I wanted to be the best at it. Some things you still couldn’t win even if you studied and practiced every hour of every day. That didn’t mean you didn’t want it, but sometimes reality had to sink in so you didn’t get your hopes up. Still, maybe I had a shot.
My parents weren’t home yet, when I pulled into my usual spot in front of my house. There was a man with a clipboard talking to my next door neighbor. Great, he was one of those annoying salespeople or political activists. Either way, I didn’t want anything to do with him.
I quickly grabbed my backpack and hopped out of the car. I was a third of the way to the door when the salesman intercepted me. Great, he had to realize I was a teenager and wasn’t going to buy anything or hire his business to do home repair.
“Elizabeth Mariposa?” The man asked.
How the hell did he know my name? That’s one hell of a sales list. Maybe he did know I couldn’t buy anything. I took several steps backward nervously. “Yes.”
“I have a letter for you.” He pulled an envelope from his clipboard. “Here you go. Have a nice day.” Then he left.
I had completed some scholarship applications. Maybe it was from one of them. I went to my room and heard the garage door open. Crap. My mom was home and I hadn’t started dinner. She was going to wonder why and I wasn’t about to tell her about the audition. I tossed the letter on my desk and ran to the kitchen. I had to get dinner started.
Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) Page 14