Reach for the Stars

by Cindy Jefferies

  “Yes,” she said. She sang it without the movements she and Jess had practiced in her room. She knew she sang it too quietly, but she couldn’t help that. She imagined herself giving it the full treatment and hoped some of that emotion would come through.

  “Well done,” said Mr. Watkins. “Now, do you mind singing some scales as well? It’s important to show what you can do, and that song doesn’t show off your range.”

  “What’s ‘range’?” she asked. Jess was giggling again, but Chloe ignored her. Mr. Watkins was a music teacher after all. He might know what was best.

  “It’s how high and how low you can comfortably sing,” he explained. “Some people are good at going very high or quite low, but your voice is unusual because you can do both. You can sing the high notes and lots of low notes, too.”

  He told Chloe to concentrate on hitting each note as accurately as she could. He made her do them tons of times, and they got the recording finished just before the bell rang for first period.

  “I don’t know why you agreed to do those scales,” Jess grumbled as they raced off to English. “You want to be a pop singer, not some silly opera person. If you’re not careful, you’ll get chosen for the wrong thing.” She was a bit miffed because Mr. Watkins hadn’t asked her to sing any scales. Even so, Chloe was concerned that Jess might be right.

  Mr. Watkins promised to send the recordings and application forms to Rockley Park right away. So all they could do now was wait. But waiting was awful, however much they concentrated on the Bugsy rehearsals. Learning dances for the musical as well as the songs was a good laugh. And they were going to get real costumes. But nothing, absolutely nothing, took away the agony of waiting.

  “Who else applied for a the scholarships?” Chloe asked Jess for the hundredth time.

  “I don’t know,” her friend snapped, rolling off Chloe’s bed and checking her hair in the mirror. “Mr. Watkins wouldn’t tell us, would he?”

  “I bet that girl from the high school has applied,” Chloe fretted. “You know, the one who played the saxophone in assembly last week. She was amazing. It’s not just singers they’re looking for either. We don’t stand a chance against someone like her.”

  “There was a rumor going round that a twelfth-grade boy applied,” Jess said.

  “Isn’t he supposed to be in a rock band?” Chloe asked. “I think he might be the one with long black hair. Darren something.”

  “That’s right,” Jess agreed, rummaging among Chloe’s hairbands. “I think he plays lead guitar.” They looked at each other dejectedly. How could they possibly compete with someone who already played guitar in a rock band? All they did was play around in Chloe’s bedroom.

  “What clothes do you think they wear at Rockley Park?” Jess asked, trying to keep their spirits up. But Chloe didn’t have the heart for it anymore. She could feel her Big Chance slipping away from her, each day that went by.

  Why hadn’t they heard? Had Rockley Park lost the recordings? Did they reply only to people who had won scholarships? That would be too cruel. Worst of all, how could she bear it if Jess got in and she didn’t?

  Chloe knew she should forget all about it and get on with her life. After all, she was in Bugsy, wasn’t she? And Mr. Watkins had given her not one, but two whole lines to sing solo. A couple of weeks ago she had been thrilled about that; now it seemed meaningless compared to getting into Rockley Park.

  Chloe joined Jess and they stared into the mirror together. Jess pulled a face at Chloe’s miserable expression. She reached a finger to Chloe’s reflected mouth and drew a smeary smile onto the glass.

  “Come on,” she said. “It’s not that bad.” But it was that bad. Chloe knew she would die if she didn’t get in.

  6. A Bit of a Shock

  No one could stay as strung out as Chloe was and keep going. However much she willed good news to arrive, even she started to let go of the dream a little. Life got in the way, and she was busy, what with schoolwork and Bugsy and looking forward to semester break. So when the letter finally did arrive, she wasn’t ready for it.

  One afternoon she came home from school late because of a Bugsy rehearsal. She was pleased but surprised to see her dad there in the kitchen, drinking tea with Mom. He was hardly ever home early.

  “Come and sit down,” Mom said, once Chloe had hung up her coat.

  “But I’ve got masses of homework,” Chloe objected. “And I want to watch TV later.”

  She didn’t get it, even though her dad was there and her mom was giving her funny looks. Chloe was thinking more about her favorite TV show than about what Mom and Dad might want.

  “Sit down for a moment,” Dad said, patting a kitchen chair. “We’ve got something to talk about.” He picked up the letter that was lying on the table.

  Chloe dumped her bag on the floor. For a fleeting moment she wondered if she’d done something really wrong at school and if her homeroom teacher had written to complain. She couldn’t think of anything, but her parents were acting so oddly. There must be something wrong. Ben was there, playing on the floor, so it couldn’t have anything to do with him. Her brain insisted on working at half speed, even when she noticed the letter in her dad’s hand. Slowly it dawned on her. It must be the letter. The one she’d almost-but-not-quite given up on. Time stood still.

  It was important not to be upset in front of them. She had promised not to let it bother her.

  “It’s all right,” she gabbled, trying not to feel anything. “I don’t mind. I won’t be miserable. Honestly.”

  “You’d better read it,” said Mom quietly.

  “Well, go on,” insisted Dad, holding it out. Chloe didn’t want to. What was the point? But she had to take it, and slide the thick expensive paper out of its envelope.

  Rockley Park School would like your daughter Chloe Tompkins to attend an interview and audition on September 21 at 2 P.M.. . .

  She couldn’t get any further. Her eyes kept going over the same sentence again and again.

  “It doesn’t mean you have to go,” said Dad.

  Chloe looked up. “What do you mean?” She put the wild imaginings running through her head to one side. “I’ve got an interview and audition. I have to go. You can’t stop me.”

  “We don’t know anything about this place, Chloe,” said Mom. “What is the standard of teaching like? Do they teach any practical subjects, or is it all pop nonsense? And it’s a boarding school. You couldn’t come home every day and tell us all your troubles. What if you were unhappy?”

  Chloe couldn’t believe how unfair they were being.

  “Why did you let me apply if you thought it was such an awful place?” she demanded. Her dad looked embarrassed.

  “To be honest, love, we didn’t think you’d get an audition. It never occurred to us that you would.”

  “Well, I showed you, then, didn’t I!” She was angry, really angry. How dare they assume she was no good? She’d gotten an interview, and an audition!

  “I’m sorry,” said Mom, “but education is important.” She tried to give Chloe a hug, but Chloe shrugged her off.

  “You can’t stop me from going,” she said. “I’ve earned that audition, all by myself. You should be proud of me.” She almost let out a sob at that, but held up her head and bit it back.

  “Oh, Chloe.” Her dad sighed. “We are proud of you. We’re just worried. We don’t know anything about this sort of thing.”

  Chloe could see that they’d never say yes unless they found out more about the school.

  “Go and see Mr. Watkins,” Chloe told them, determined not to give up. “He’s still at school figuring out one of the solos for Bugsy. He’ll tell you. He knows all about it. I think he’s even been there once!” She willed them to agree. “Please.”

  Dad looked at Mom. “We can’t interrupt him in the middle of rehearsals,” he said doubtfully.

  Chloe looked at her watch. “He’ll be finished in half an hour. We can go then.” She tried to sound serious
and sensible.

  Mom sighed. “Mrs. Robbins might be able to look after Ben,” she said. “I’ll go and ask her.” She got up and went next door. Chloe could feel herself starting to fizz with excitement and fought the feeling down. Surely Mr. Watkins would be on her side?

  They caught the music teacher at the end of rehearsals. He took them into his tiny office and found chairs for her parents while Chloe leaned awkwardly against a shelf piled high with books and papers.

  “Rockley Park is an excellent school,” Mr. Watkins told them, once he’d congratulated Chloe. “The children work very hard because they have to fit in the extra classes in singing, dance, songwriting, and music technology among a full schedule of standard subjects. It’s by no means an easy option. Why don’t you take the prospectus and see what you think?” He handed a glossy brochure to Chloe’s mom with WELCOME TO ROCKLEY PARK SCHOOL FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS on the cover.

  “What do you think the school saw in Chloe?” asked Dad.

  “Well. . .” Mr. Watkins smiled. “I suspect it was her range.” Chloe hugged the information to herself. Those scales had been worth it after all. “She has quite an unusual voice,” he went on. “It’s not particularly strong, but training would help with that. She’s got excellent pitch, and can sing an amazing range of notes. I should think that’s what interested them. If it’s what she wants to do, this is a fantastic opportunity for her,” he added.

  “It’s what I really, really want,” Chloe assured everyone. Mr. Watkins laughed.

  “There you go, a girl with real ambition and determination!” he said. “And she’ll need every bit of it if she goes into the music industry! My advice,” he went on more soberly, “is to go along when she has her interview and see for yourselves. I went to a concert there last year and was most impressed with the whole setup.”

  “Is there anything in particular she should do before she goes?” asked Dad. Chloe’s heart gave a great leap in her chest.

  Yes! Dad’s going to let me do it!

  “Come and practice every lunchtime before you go,” he said. “You need to be as polished as possible for the audition.”

  Chloe nodded excitedly. Then she remembered Jess. “Who else got an interview?” she asked anxiously.

  Mr. Watkins smiled. “I have the list here,” he said. “There are a few other children going, but only one other person in your grade has been called for audition.”

  Chloe breathed out a huge, triumphant breath. It was better than she could ever have hoped for. It was going to be just as they had planned.

  “The other person,” she blurted out, her eyes shining with pleasure and excitement. “It’s Jess, isn’t it!”

  7. A Broken Friendship

  Chloe was bubbling over with excitement. Back home, her parents were finally beginning to see things her way! Her mom kept reading bits from the prospectus, and sounded more and more approving by the minute.

  “Lots of opportunities in the industry apart from performing, and many of our students go on to college,” she told Chloe in a pleased voice. Well, fine. Let her stick to her dream of higher education for Chloe if she wanted. Chloe had more important things on her mind. She had to call Jess.

  Because Jess hadn’t gotten an interview after all. The other person who was going to audition from Chloe’s grade was a boy, Danny James, and he wasn’t even a singer. He played the drums, for goodness’ sake!

  Chloe didn’t know what to say to Jess. In the end she gave up, and didn’t call her that evening. It was too difficult. She hoped it might be easier to tell her face-to-face on the way to school in the morning. But it wasn’t. Jess was furious and very hurt.

  “Imagine you knowing about it right after school and not telling me,” she wailed. “The least a best friend would have done was call. Then I would have had the chance to get used to the idea. Everyone knows we were both applying for scholarships. It’s going to be horrible at school for me today.” She was right, and Chloe felt terrible.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” she offered. “No one needs to know. I probably won’t get in anyway.”

  “But I’m definitely not getting in, am I?” Jess stumped on ahead and Chloe trailed behind, lost for words.

  It would be difficult, but Chloe decided that for Jess’s sake she definitely wouldn’t tell anyone at school her news today. Perhaps Jess would feel better tomorrow. But Chloe knew how terrible she would have felt if Jess had gotten the interview instead of her.

  As it turned out, there was no chance to keep it secret anyway. Their homeroom teacher announced Chloe’s news before he took attendance, and from then on people kept coming up to her and asking about it, even kids older than her, and teachers she didn’t know.

  At recess, Chloe was surrounded by lots of excited kids and Jess was nowhere to be seen. For the rest of the day, Jess went around with a different group, and Chloe didn’t get the chance to speak to her. After school, Chloe found herself walking home alone.

  The next morning she waited for Jess to call for her, but she didn’t turn up. It got later and later, and in the end Chloe had to run all the way to school and was still late. Jess was already in class. And she wouldn’t look when Chloe tried to catch her eye. It was terrible. All this time they should have been together, planning what to wear for their visit to Rockley Park. But every time Chloe thought about the upcoming trip and felt the bubbling of excitement welling up inside her, she remembered Jess and the feeling leaked away, leaving her like a limp, deflated balloon.

  “Don’t worry, Jess will come around in the end,” Mom told her sympathetically. Chloe wasn’t so sure. But, in spite of that, there was no way she was prepared to give up her Big Chance. She wanted to stay friends with Jess almost more than anything, but if that were impossible, then she would choose Rockley Park every time. Did that mean she was a bad friend? Should she give up her Big Chance for Jess?

  The night before the interview she spent ages washing her hair and trying to decide what to wear in the morning. If only Jess had been with her. She would have known. All week, everyone had wanted to be her friend, and yet she’d never felt so lonely. Was this what fame was going to be like? If so, she was going to have to learn to be tough.

  Her stomach was churning around and around. She hadn’t been able to eat much dinner. She tried one last practice in front of her mirror before getting into bed, but she couldn’t even remember all the words to the audition song she’d chosen, though she’d been perfect all week. It was just nerves, she told herself. She’d be fine tomorrow. She hoped. And she had to put the problems between her and Jess aside, too. For now, she had to go it alone, and do her very best by herself.

  She snuggled down under the duvet and allowed the excitement to bubble back into her brain. It was going to be a fantastic experience. She would try to remember every moment, in case she was able to share it with Jess later. She probably wouldn’t win a scholarship. But she had to believe that she could do it. She had to believe that she would get a scholarship to Rockley Park, and make her dream in the mirror come true. She held that belief tightly inside her like a coiled secret.

  She was so wound up she felt sure she would never get to sleep. She wanted to climb into her black jeans and white top, and sing. She was ready, now!

  The bedroom door opened quietly and her mom came in. “I saw your light on. Are you all right?”

  Chloe nodded. “Excited.”

  “Who wouldn’t be? But you must get some sleep if you’re going to do your best.” Her mom was wearing her most worried face. “Oh, Chloe.” She came and sat on the edge of the bed. “I hope we’re doing the right thing, letting you try out for this.” Chloe sat up and gave her a hug.

  “Don’t worry,” she said confidently. “It’ll be all right.”

  Her mom sighed and hugged her back. “You sound just like your dad,” she said. “He always looks on the bright side. Oh, I nearly forgot. This came through the door for you a bit earlier.” She held out a small plastic bag. “I w
asn’t sure whether to bring it up or leave it until the morning. Since you’re still awake you might as well open it now.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. Open it.” Mom watched while Chloe wrestled with the sticky tape.

  “It’s from Jess!” Inside was a small bottle of pink, glittery nail polish. There was a note, too. Good Luck! it said. Love Jess. Chloe beamed at her mom. “I’ve got to call her!” she announced, scrambling out of bed. She ran downstairs in her pajamas and dialed the number, but, of course, Jess had gone to bed.

  “Tell her ‘thanks so much,’” said Chloe to Jess’s mom. “And say that I’ll see her very soon.”

  She jumped back into bed brimming full of emotion. She would wear the polish tomorrow as a good-luck charm. It was going to be all right.

  8. Rockley Park

  Chloe was much too jittery to put nail polish on in the morning, so she stuffed the little bottle into her jacket pocket at the last moment. Every time the excitement got too much for her, she held on to it and it helped calm her down.

  She’d totally forgotten that they were giving Danny, the other seventh grader, a lift, because his mother couldn’t get time off work.

  “It’s getting late!” Chloe fussed as they pulled up outside his apartment building. But Danny didn’t keep them waiting. He was already outside, and raced over as soon as he saw Chloe in the car.

  He scrambled into the backseat with her and Ben, clutching his drumsticks. Ben stared at him disapprovingly, alarmed at this stranger climbing into their car.

  Danny was no taller than Chloe. His brown hair flopped over his face, and he didn’t look anyone in the eye. Chloe caught sight of his expression and thought he looked like a frightened rabbit. Come to think of it, she probably did as well.