The Right Song

by Shane Morgan

  You’ve got your mother and your brother,

  Every other undercover telling you what to say

  You think I'm stupid, but the truth is

  that it's cupid, baby lovin' you has made me this way

  “Yeah, sing it girl,” a woman blurts out, inspiring me to sing even harder. By the time I reach the prelude to the chorus, the crowd starts to clap along with me. It gives me a rush to know that they’re feeling my performance so far.

  The band gets the hang of it and meets me for the chorus.

  I’m looking for attention, not another question

  Should you stay or should you go?

  Well, if you don’t know the answer,

  why you still standing here?

  Hey, hey, hey, hey… just walk away

  My body relaxes even more. I get lost in the performance, taking the microphone off the stand and allowing the guitarist in the band to fill in while I move around a bit.

  I feel so high that my voice sails in the break down before the second chorus. The crowd raves, enjoying every grunt and perfect note that I hit. It seems they love my raspy voice.

  Gosh! Why have I been denying myself such an incredible feeling all this time? There’s nothing better than being on stage and putting on a good show.

  This is indescribable!

  When I reach the bridge, all the women sing along with me. The band settles down so we can hear each other.

  I want a love, I want a fire,

  to feel the burn, my desires

  I want a man by my side,

  not a boy who runs and hides

  Are you gonna fight for me,

  die for me, live and breathe for me?

  Do you care for me?

  ‘Cause if you don’t then just leave…

  Unable to suppress my excitement, laughter escapes me as I flow into the chorus for the last time. When I slow it down towards the end, a burst of cheers accompanies my soft tones as I carry it out with a mellow strum.

  Then they start to yell. “Encore! Encore! Encore!” It’s evocative, like those loud drums pounding at the back of my head. The beat is different this time, as if I’ve taken the leap off the cliff and I’m at the beginning of the journey going down to that great escape.

  I bow several times and say “thank you,” waving as I make my way off the stage.

  The MC pats my arm and tells me good job as he walks on stage and tries to calm the crowd. “Settle down, settle down. Only one performance per artist, you guys know that.”

  They continue to shout for me, bellowing my name, “Aurora Law!”

  “There’s not enough time,” he explains, “C’mon let’s keep it moving.”

  I hear a roomful of “awws” as I start back to Daegan. He’s still on his feet, applauding me with a broad grin plastered over his face. He’s even more handsome now, looking as excited as I feel.

  Without thinking, I settle my guitar next to the chair and rush into his chest, throwing my arms around him.

  “Oh my gosh, that was unbelievable!” I laugh.

  “It was, you were fantastic,” he says at the side of my head, hugging me back. His body feels safe and warm. And he smells so fresh, so clean.

  I close my eyes, finding pleasure in this peaceful moment. I could stay like this for a long time. It feels amazing—like I’m on this endless high, being able to connect with a room full of strangers through the power of music.

  Wow! I’m so grateful. I can’t believe Daegan got me to do this. I want to thank him and share with him the unbelievable emotions I feel of standing on stage. I don’t want to pull out of this embrace. I sink deeper into him, inhaling his addicting scent and enjoying the protective grip of his arms. His body feels so good.

  What?

  I open my eyes, realizing how close we are. I compose myself and pull out of his embrace, not wanting to give him the wrong idea.

  His smile dwindles.

  Sticking a hand inside his back pocket, he gestures with the other. “You want to get out of here before you get rushed?”

  I nod and start for the exit. We step outside and make our way to my car. I hear someone call my name.

  Turning around, I see the MC, Luke, coming over. He shakes each of our hands.

  “Great performance back there, girlie,” he enthuses. “I’ve never seen you here before, but everyone seems to love you. You want to perform again next week?”

  I glance at Daegan then back at him. “I’d love to. I had fun.”

  “Awesome. Listen, next Friday is going to be fantastic for someone like you,” he adds.

  “How so?” Daegan chimes.

  “Well, I have a friend who’s the A&R for an indie label in Cleveland, and he’s going to stop in, check out some local talent. A lot of people want to impress this guy. But I think you have what he’s looking for, a natural spark. Your stage presence is spectacular.”

  “Look, Mr. Luke—”

  “It’s just Luke,” he cuts me off.

  “Well, Luke, I don’t know what’s in it for you, but I’m not looking for someone to feed me lies and whisk me off to some place to exploit me and—”

  “Oh damn, girlie. No one said anything about exploiting you. And there isn’t anything in it for me. I just know real talent when I see it and I was only trying to help.”

  I clamp my mouth shut. I need to stop watching that TV show, Hollywood Dreams Gone Bad.

  “She’ll be here,” Daegan answers for me. I look up at him, ready to protest, but Luke walks off before I get a chance.

  “What are you doing? Daegan, what if this guy is a fake?”

  “What if he isn’t? You don’t want to miss out on a good opportunity to make it as recording artist, do you? Think about it, you’ll get to write and sing the songs you want.”

  I shrug. “That would be kinda cool. But I have to be cautious. It’s only one night. Let’s see how I feel about it in the coming days.”

  He nods and hops in the front seat. I walk around to the driver side, taking off as soon as I get in around the wheel.

  My excitement lessens a bit as I drive back to town. I guess I’m tired from that performance. When I approach the intersection, I ask, “Where do you live?”

  “I thought you knew everything,” he says smartly, flashing me a smirk as I glance over.

  “Well I don’t, so tell me or I’ll leave your ass in downtown Seville and you can just walk home.”

  “Sheesh, a few minutes ago you were all over me, and now that biting attitude is back.”

  “What biting attitude? This is me being normal.”

  He laughs sarcastically as I take a left turn.

  I follow his directions, slowing down at a gray bungalow shortly after. There lights are off. Everything about this place is dark and gives off a bad energy.

  “Want to come inside?” he asks me, drawing my attention.

  “What?” I reply, surprised.

  “You were looking at my house as if you wanted to come in. Do you?”

  He’s acting so casual about it.

  “No… I shouldn’t.”

  He huffs a laugh. “Why not?”

  “Well, I mean, we’re not… it seems weird.”

  “What’s wrong with a friend inviting his friend inside his house?”

  I don’t know why, but I tighten my grip on the steering. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re a guy.”

  “I’m sure you go to Drew, Chris, and even Alex’s house all the time. So what’s wrong with mine?” he smirks. “Or is that you’re like everybody else around here? You’re too scared to go inside because you think it’s contagious or something.”

  “What’s contagious?” I’m beyond confused. He seems so cold all of a sudden.

  “The fact that suicide runs in my family,” he answers under his breath, absently penetrating the glove compartment.

  “No. I don’t think that. I didn’t even know you’ve had more than one instance of it. God, Daegan, besides your mom, who else…�
�� I trail as he looks at me, and my mind drifts to the scars on his wrist.

  Did he try to kill himself at one point?

  “I’m glad you got on that stage tonight,” he says, turning to get out of the car. “I’ll go with you again if you want. I really like your voice. You rocked it up there, just like Joan Jett.”

  I knit my brows together. “How did you know I like her?”

  “Sixth grade, when we had to share what we’d like to become in the future. You said you wanted to be a rock star like Joan Jett.”

  He shuts the door and bustles toward his house, not looking back once as he tramps up the porch steps and slips inside.

  The fact that he remembered that to this day makes me smile. I don’t stop smiling even when I reach home and crawl into bed.

  15.

  I just love Saturdays, when you can sleep in late and loaf around all day. Only, the gleaming sunlight blares through the sheer curtains, piercing the thinness of my sheets as it warms my skin. Birds chirp like crazy, and there’s a loud banging like Mr. Fuller is working out back in his shed.

  I roll over on my side, bringing the soft lavender cotton sheet over my head. I feel so groggy and tired after last night, but all this commotion leaves me no choice.

  Oh darn!

  Accepting defeat, I push the covers off and ease up on my elbows. I guess I have to enjoy it like every other teenager that has waited all week for this day.

  Throwing the sheets to the side, I climb out of bed and stretch my hands up over my head, yawning. I take off my PJs and step into the shower, washing my hair and the sleepiness away.

  In no time my performance at the Heat Room crosses my mind. I feel elated all over again, remembering the energy and the enjoyment that overflowed from the crowd. That’s not the only thing I remember from last night.

  I flash back to that hug between me and Daegan, the way his body felt, pulling me into him. I can’t even rule it out as a reaction of never been hugged by a guy before. I have, plenty of times. Drew, Chris, and Alex have squished me in their embrace before, but none felt as good as Daegan’s. I can’t quite describe it. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else.

  I splash water on my face and lightly slap my cheeks to snap out of it. There’s no way I can think like this. Not about Daegan. I have a date later with Milo.

  Stepping out of the shower, I blow-dry my hair, but oddly, I don’t feel like putting it up in a ponytail. After getting dressed in the usual t-shirt and jeans, I let my long, dark strands fall gracefully down my back.

  Emma would be proud.

  Speaking of, I just have to tell her about last night. I have to tell all of them, even Aunt Leah. Now that I’ve had a taste of the stage, I feel as if I want to go back.

  This has me considering what Luke said about his friend stopping by next week. Maybe I should seriously consider becoming a recording artist and not just a songwriter or guitarist. Berklee will have to wait.

  I saunter downstairs and fix a bowl of cereal. I barely get a spoonful in my mouth when I hear a knock on the front door.

  Walking over, I answer it with a faint smile, realizing its Alex.

  “Hey…”

  “Hey,” he replies, staring at me hard. “You look nice with your hair down. Prettier.”

  “Thanks,” I say evenly.

  I narrow my eyes as I regard him, wearing distressed blue jeans and a white tee. There’s something different about him.

  Oh, right. “Your hair’s shorter.”

  “Yeah.” He smiles, raking a hand through it. “I chopped it up a bit.” Then he sticks his hand inside his pocket and nods over my shoulder. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” I move aside so he can enter, closing the door behind him.

  I play with my nails and rock back and forth on my flats, feeling awkward being alone with him. It wasn’t like this before—before he poured his heart out to me.

  “Look, I know things have been crazy between us, and I’ve gotten the band involved, but I wanted to tell you that I had no intention on hurting you at the party on the farm. I was only—”

  “Trying to help,” I finish. “I know. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

  “Also, even though I said I couldn’t be your friend, feeling the way I do…” He releases a razor-sharp breath. “I really want us to put that aside for now and get ready for the festival next week.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  He stares at me for a moment before twisting to leave. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at practice in a bit.”

  As he turns to step outside, I stop him, reaching for his arm. “I have something to tell you.”

  Alex faces me, creasing his forehead. “What?”

  “Well, you see,” I hesitate to tell him about the Heat Room. I’m afraid he’ll be hurt by this news, especially since he’s been trying to get me to sing live for quite some time now, and then unexpectedly Daegan persuades me onto the stage so easily.

  How do I explain it to him? I don’t even understand why myself.

  “The thing is—”

  His phone makes a ping sound in his pocket, notifying him of a new message.

  “Sorry,” he says, ignoring it.

  “Um, why don’t you see if it’s important,” I tell him, trying to buy some time to sort out my thoughts.

  Alex shrugs. Then he takes his phone out. His eyes narrow and he raises a brow as he glances at the screen. “Look what our very own Rora has been hiding?” he reads aloud, clicking the message.

  My eyes widen. Oh no. It can’t be. Did someone record my performance from last night and…

  “What the—?”

  Yes, they did.

  I hear my voice coming from his phone, belting out that Kelly Clarkson song.

  He peers up at me, perplexed, and then looks back at the video. Alex mumbles, appearing upset, thrilled, and a ton of other emotions I can’t quite pinpoint.

  “You were singing live?” he finally says, meeting my gaze.

  I bob my head. “That’s what I was going to tell you just now. Who sent you that video?”

  He laughs out his reply, “Chris. He said a kid from our school filmed it and posted it on YouTube. They’re calling it your revival after what happened at the barn.”

  “So this is on YouTube already?” I murmur. “Great! Is anything private anymore?”

  “What does it matter?” He grins from ear to ear. “You were singing live! You’re amazing. This crowd obviously loves you. Where is this, anyway?”

  “Oh, um… the Heat Room.”

  He pauses, searching his brain. After a second he says, “Never heard of it. Where’s that?”

  “A little out of town,” I tell him.

  “Oh, well, you should have told me you were going to do it. I would have gone with you for support.”

  “It wasn’t planned,” I reply in a near whisper.

  “What do you mean?”

  I reach over and stop the video. “Actually, it was Daegan Stone’s idea that I swing by the place, just to check out some of the artists.”

  His smile starts to fade. “And he got you up on stage?”

  I flick my nails, fearful of where this is going.

  Anguished, he says, “Just like that? No begging… nothing?”

  “Alex, come on—”

  “What? Don’t feel bad? Don’t feel one bit jealous because I’ve been trying for years to help you get over this stupid fear and all of a sudden this… weirdo convinced you?”

  My stomach roils. “Hey, don’t call him that. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Nice guy?” He makes a short, sarcastic laugh. “How nice is he?”

  I lean my head to the side and drop my hands to my hips, taken aback by the insinuation in his tone.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what I mean,” he snaps. “How nice does a guy have to be to persuade you? Clearly I’ve been doing the wrong thing all this time.”

  “Okay, time for you
to get out.” I move to the door and yank it open. He’s never been this way with me before. It stings.

  “Whatever,” he scoffs, sticking his phone back inside his pocket. “See you at practice. That’s if you decide to show up.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I say through clenched teeth.

  He stands in the doorway, peering at me sideways. “I don’t know, it looks like you have other things keeping you busy.”

  Alex tramps down the porch steps and ambles next door. I hear the sound of his car roaring to life before he takes off.

  What the hell is his problem? How can jealousy turn my long time best friend into such a jerk?

  Thanks for ruining the day even more, Alex.

  16.

  “Oh wow,” Emma gushes over the video for the umpteenth time. “Look at my bestie!” She hoists one leg up on the chair, resting it below her chin as she settles the other on the floor. She keeps her attention focused on her laptop.

  I sit on the cushioned bench below her window, admiring the posters of various landmarks hanging on the walls. Emma told me she dreamed of becoming a renowned photographer who traveled the globe. It’s something she’s wanted since we were kids.

  “Law, I can’t believe you’re this good of a singer and I had no idea. You’re amazing!” she squeals. “You’re so bad for keeping this from me.”

  I pick at my jeans, feeling modest. “Sorry.”

  “Look at this!” she yelps. “2,000 views in less than an hour, Law, and already 500 comments. Some are calling you a star. There are even people from the other video. Listen to this, Gloryholic says you were clearly warming up before. Look out Kelly Clarkson, Aurora Law is a force to be reckoned with. Why do they keep calling you by my nickname for you?”

  “The MC at the Heat Room made a mistake,” I explain.

  “Well, I love it. I think you’re going to be huge, the biggest ever out of Ohio. You seriously need to set up social media pages and do more performances so we can get your name out there more. When are you going back?”

  “Luke, the MC, he asked me to perform again next week cause there’s some A&R guy that’s going to show up to check out the local artists.”