Mackenzie Blue
Page 10
Mrs. Lawrence-Johnson had said the magic word. Wink! was Zee’s favorite spa. She never turned down a chance to go there.
“Cool beans!” Zee said. “I’m in.”
“Are you coming?” Chloe asked Jasper.
Jasper looked at the six eyes fixed on him like a lamb surrounded by wolves. “No, thank you,” he said carefully. “I think I’d feel rather strange getting my nails done.”
The three friends giggled, but Zee laughed the hardest, happy to be together again with her new, true friends.
Dear Diary,
Was I jealous of Chloe and Jasper? Is that why I totally lost my mind and accused them of stealing my diary? (Answer key: Yes!) I just didn’t realize it. My whole life it has always been just Zee and Ally. I never really had to share my best friend with anyone. Now it’s the three of us. I may be in upper school, but I guess I could still use a few lessons in sharing.
Zee
“I can’t really blame you for suspecting me,” Chloe said. She was sitting under the dryer in the chair next to Zee, their hair wrapped. “I was hiding something from you. You liked Mr. P so much, and I was afraid you wouldn’t like me if you knew how my parents felt about him and Teen Sing.”
Zee thought back to the first day of school, when she had made her father drop her off a block from school because she had been so embarrassed by his SUV. “Let’s make a pact,” she suggested, “that we won’t freak out about the things our parents do.”
“It’s a deal,” Chloe said, holding up her right hand. Zee high-fived it.
“Oh. My. Gosh!” Chloe mouthed, pointing to the salon’s entrance. Kathi had just walked in. The girls froze as Kathi passed by on her way to the spray-tanning booths. But with their heads wrapped—and Kathi’s nose high in the air, as usual—she didn’t even recognize them.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Zee asked.
“Revenge!” Chloe said excitedly.
They watched as Kathi stepped inside the booth. The spa employee told her, “Get ready, and I’ll be right back to apply your bronzer.” Then she shut the door, adjusted some controls, and walked away.
In the next second, Zee and Chloe were outside the booth door. They looked at the controls, which were set to “summer light.”
Chloe pointed to the highest setting on the knob—“super dark.” “Kathi will be as orange as a carrot,” she whispered. “No way she’ll want to sing that way. You’ll get your song back.”
It was the perfect plan! Zee imagined Kathi with her new “tan,” and she had to stifle a laugh.
Slowly Chloe turned the knob up high. She was just about to push the spray button when Zee grabbed her arm to stop her. Then Zee turned the knob back to its low setting.
“Don’t you want to beat her?” Chloe whispered.
“Of course!” Zee told her in her softest voice. “But I can’t beat her if she doesn’t compete. Besides, no matter how mean she is to me, I won’t go down to her level.”
“The best revenge,” Chloe said, “will be when you get the Teen Sing recording contract.”
17
High Note
Did you find what you were looking for?
Just ask me. I’m an open book.
Maybe it’s you, telling yourself a lie,
About all you’re feeling inside.
Give it a try! Open up that book.
Read me. Read me.
I’m an open book.
Read me. Read me.
Take more than just one look.
Thanks to Mr. P’s inspiration, Zee had had no trouble writing a new song for Teen Sing. For a week, she had spent every moment that she wasn’t studying or going to school—or hanging out with Chloe and Jasper—working on the lyrics. Mr. P was a big help. Now, she was in her room, smoothing out the words and getting the sound right.
Do you care that you took thoughts that were mine?
My eyes only. I’m an open book.
“Ohmylanta!” Zee stopped and slumped her body over the guitar across her lap. The melody just wasn’t working. “I give up.” She tossed the sheet music up in the air. It was too hard. She had made a mess of the first weeks of school, and she’d probably make a mess of this, too.
Knock. Knock. Zee looked at her door. She hadn’t heard anyone come upstairs.
“Come in!” she shouted and started to put her guitar in its case.
Adam opened the door a bit. “Why’d you stop singing?”
“Because it’s a stupid song,” Zee said, waving a sheet of lyrics. “Who am I trying to kid? Kathi’s the superstar—not me.”
With giant steps, Adam strode across the room, took the paper from Zee’s hand, and picked up her guitar. “Move over,” he commanded, then sat down on the bed.
Jerking his head to emphasize the beat, Adam played. “‘Did you find what you were looking for?’” he sang. “‘Just ask me. I’m an open book.’” The words sounded like an angry accusation—which was how Zee had felt when she’d written them. Only she hadn’t ever actually sung them that way. Adam was rocking the song—and it sounded ten times better.
When Adam came to the end of the page, he stopped. Zee looked around the room for the next sheet. Her parents were standing in the doorway. How long had they been there?
“Who wrote that?” Mr. Carmichael asked Adam.
“Zee did,” Adam said and handed her back the guitar.
“I thought your new song was about lipstick,” Zee’s father said.
Zee laughed. “Fingernail polish,” she corrected. “Actually Mr. P helped me find a better subject.”
Mrs. Carmichael’s mouth dropped open. “Your music teacher helped you with that?” Zee nodded. “You’re lucky to have someone who encourages you to express yourself so well.”
“He sounds like a great teacher,” Mr. Carmichael agreed.
“He is,” Zee said. “But he might get fired. Some parents don’t like the fact that he doesn’t focus on classical music.”
Zee’s parents exchanged a concerned look. “Well, we’ll leave you two to work on the song,” Mr. Carmichael finally said. He clasped his wife’s arm and guided her out of the room.
SPARKLEGRRL: How’s your song going?
E-ZEE: Great. Mostly.
SPARKLEGRRL: Mostly?
E-ZEE: Every 1 at school will know y I wrote it. Sometimes I’m afraid I say 2 much.
SPARKLEGRRL: U? Saying too much? Nooooo.
E-ZEE: LOL! Adam is going to play with me. He convinced me 2 change my style a little.
SPARKLEGRRL: Just b tru 2 urslf and u’ll b gr 8. E-Zee 4 u, right?
18
The Audition
Dear Diary,
I have NEVER been more nervous in my whole life!!! (And I probably won’t ever be again until my first kiss with Landon.? ) Today’s the audition. For real. Really real. It’s like the most important day EVER. Adam (or as I like to call him, “my band”) and I have been practicing like crazy. He says I’m becoming a diva, but I just want it to be good. (And I kind of like the idea of being a diva!! Don’t tell Adam.)
I had that dream again. No, not the bra one. This is the one where I’m up onstage with all the other Teen Sing contestants. My knees are shaking, and my hands are sweating. (Really gross sweating.) We’re waiting for them to announce the winner.
The emcee—who else? Ryan Seacrest—opens the envelope, clears his throat, and turns to the contestants. “And the winner is—” That’s when I wake up.
But I always think I hear my name just as I open my eyes. ?
Zee
Nobody at Brookdale Upper School got any work done the day of the audition—unless you call practicing their songs work, which Zee did. As she passed through the hall between classes, she sang her song. At lunch, she sang her song. And in gym, she made sure to get out quickly in dodgeball—no problem—so she could sing her song.
None of the teachers even bothered to lead a lesson—except Mr. P, who let Zee and Kathi perform for the class.
“It’ll sound way better with Adam backing me up,” Zee told her. Of course, the sound of Adam’s name made Chloe blush.
Jasper remained as cool as ever through the entire day. Whenever Zee started to freak out, Jasper put down his book and reassured her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ll be brilliant!”
After school in the locker room, Zee changed into the dress she had gotten from her dad’s office and a pair of mid-calf boots in soft tan leather. She’d made a choker with a cloth strap and a delicate purple bead. Zee carefully positioned a cool knitted cap on her head. She’d found it at a flea market for a dollar. She looked in the mirror, pulling the sides of the hat down just enough, then at Chloe. “There! What do you think?”
“I think you look awesome!” Chloe stared at Zee.
“Then let’s get to the auditorium before I chicken out!” She grabbed Chloe’s arm and dragged her out of the locker room.
The girls didn’t get far. A crush of people clogged the halls. “How am I going to find Adam in this mess?” Zee asked.
Chloe kicked into superhero mode. Practically dragging Zee behind her, she cleared a path in front of her so they could pass. “Coming through, y’all! Coming through!” she shouted. “This girl needs to get to the auditorium.”
Through the windows, Zee could see men in bright orange vests directing traffic through the parking lot. “Ohmylanta! There’s a TV crew outside!” she said to Chloe.
“Maybe they’ll interview you!” Chloe said.
“Whenever I go to a movie premiere with my dad, I always wonder what it would be like to be one of the stars on the red carpet,” Zee said dreamily. “Maybe this is my chance to find out!”
“That would be awesome!” Chloe said.
The auditorium was buzzing even more than the halls and parking lot. Zee searched the crowd—until a pair of waving arms caught her attention. Zee’s mom was motioning to her from across the room. Next to her were her dad and Chloe’s mom. And Adam. She had never been so happy to see her brother.
Everybody hugged Zee and wished her luck. Chloe gave her the biggest hug of all. “Don’t forget me when you’re a famous singer, okay?” she said.
“I won’t—if you promise not to forget me when you’re a famous cellist,” Zee answered.
“Hey, your band is ready,” Adam said.
“Let’s do it!” Zee exclaimed.
“I told you I’d let you wear a little makeup, Zee,” Mrs. Carmichael said, opening her purse. “Do you want me to put it on you?”
“No, thanks,” Zee said. “I’m going to be me tonight.”
As Zee and Adam went to the contestants’ waiting area, she scanned the crowd. Jasper was sitting in the middle of all the chaos, reading his book. Landon was right next to him. He had decided not to compete after all and had barely made eye contact with Zee since the day of the whiteboard message. But when he saw Zee, he elbowed Jasper, who looked up and smiled wide. Then Landon gave her a big thumbs-up!
Zee passed by the stage where Marcus was arranging some cables. He held his hand up for a high-five. Then he pointed at Zee and said, “I’ll make sure you sound best.” He paused, then added, “Oh, wait! You already do.”
The only person missing was Ally. More than anyone else, Ally knew how important winning Teen Sing was to Zee. She knew how important everything was to Zee.
Zee was unpacking her guitar when she heard John Rock, a DJ from LA’s most popular radio station, announce, “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Brookdale Academy, home of the Los Angeles Region Teen Sing competition.” The crowd erupted with screams and cheers. “In this room tonight are the most talented young voices in the area—and one of them will move on to the na-tion-al Teen Sing competition.” Chills ran up and down Zee as the noise got louder. “Let’s welcome our first Teen Sing contestant, Brookdale’s very own Sam Bartholomew!”
Zee couldn’t believe it. Teen Sing was really here. In Brookdale. At her school. And she was actually a contestant. By the end of the night, she could even be its winner!
Soon Zee’s excitement switch turned off as John Rock announced, “Our next performer wrote this song by herself—and she’s only a seventh grader. Kathi Barney.”
Kathi’s gorgeous voice floated through the auditorium. “Jump into the water—it’s cooler, baby.” Zee’s words—and Kathi’s lie. But she sounded fantastic. Zee’s heart sank. Would she be able to outshine Kathi with her song from the heart?
Zee didn’t have long to think about it. “Number twenty-four,” a woman with a clipboard shouted.
“That’s me!” Zee called out, waving her arms.
Clipboard Lady pointed at her. “You’re in the hole.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Zee said to Adam, worried.
“It’s from baseball. It means there are two people ahead of you,” he told her, laughing. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to know something about sports.”
“I’d rather speak English.”
Adam put his hand on top of Zee’s head and spun her so that she faced the door. “Let’s go wait by the stage,” he suggested.
When they reached the stage stairs, Adam pulled something out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. “I was going to wait to give this to you, but I’d rather do it now.” He handed her a small book.
“A diary!” Zee flipped it over and ran her hands across the bumpy orange cloth cover.
“I didn’t want you to have to keep using that homemade math binder.”
“How’d you know that was my diary?” she asked.
“You never actually used it for math.”
Zee hugged her brother while the next singer went onstage.
“You’re after him, Twenty-four,” Clipboard Lady said, pointing the eraser of her pencil at the top of the stairs. “You can go wait backstage.”
Zee gulped and slowly ascended the steps with Adam close behind. Her legs felt like Jell-O.
As she waited at the top, Zee heard Clipboard Lady’s nasal tone. “Contestants only, sir.”
“But I need to give something to one of the performers,” a frazzled voice responded. Mr. P!
“Sorry. You’re too late.”
Was Zee’s teacher looking for her? She turned around and started to walk back down the stairs. “Hi, Mr. P.”
“Let’s give a Teen Sing welcome to Brookdale Academy seventh grader Mackenzie Blue Carmichael!” John Rock announced.
“We’re up!” Adam called. Zee faced her brother.
“Wait!” Mr. P sounded frantic. Gripping the rail for support, he leaned and reached his arm up the stairs as far as he could. Zee reached down. Their fingertips met in the middle, and he handed off a small red triangle of plastic. A guitar pick? “Bob Dylan gave that to me in Berlin,” Mr. P explained.
“Wow!”
“Come on,” Adam urged.
“Thanks, Mr. P!” Zee said.
“Hmmm. Maybe Mackenzie Blue got cold feet,” John Rock joked a few feet away. The audience laughed in confusion.
“Better hurry!” Clipboard Lady barked.
Zee turned to go onstage.
“Mackenzie!” Mr. P shouted. She stopped and turned. “Rock on!” he said with a smile.
“I guess we’ll have to move on to the next contestant,” the emcee said.
Zee smiled back at Mr. P. “I will!” she told him, then raced to the microphone. The bright lights shone down on her so that the audience was just a blur. Where were her parents? And Chloe? And Jasper? Her palms began to sweat. She wasn’t sure she could play.
Then Zee remembered the pick in her hand. Bob Dylan was a legend—one of the best singer-songwriters. Ever. She wanted people to say that about her someday. She closed her eyes. The crowd dissolved. Ally’s words came to Zee—“Just b tru 2 urslf”—and her fears vanished.
Zee lifted her right hand high over her head and played the first chord.
What do you see? It
matters how you look.
It’s just me. I’m an open book.
We’re all scared, trying to hide,
Keeping secrets inside.
Not me! I’ve tried, but I’m an open book.
Read me. Read me.
I’m an open book.
Read me. Read me.
Take more than just one look.
Zee looked over at her brother. He gave her a nod that told her he was thinking exactly what she was thinking—they sounded better than they ever had.
With each verse, Zee grew more confident. She took some chances—changing her phrasing in some places, her style in others. Adam was right with her. He practically read her mind.
Zee was so into the song, she nearly forgot about all the eyes watching her. Then she did something she’d never done in rehearsal. After the song ended and the guitar strings stopped vibrating, after total silence filled the auditorium, she whispered, “I’m an open book,” and hung her head.
Zee had no idea where the words came from. It was a complete improvisation. The crowd remained silent. Had she completely embarrassed herself? Did she sound like a freak? She looked up at the stunned audience, but she still couldn’t see their faces.
Suddenly, the crowd in the seats went nuts—cheering, screaming, clapping, and whistling. Zee held her guitar high over her head, then took a big bow. And another. As she stumbled off the stage in a daze, kids crowded around her.
“That was great!” an eighth-grade boy said.
“You’re an inspiration,” one of the perfect-hair girls from the first day of school told her.