Going Solo

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Going Solo Page 17

by Cynthia Baxter


  “Look,” Big Bart said with a shrug, “I don’t see what the big deal is. You’ve already got the gig.”

  “What?” Allegra blinked.

  “You heard me. I said you have the job. Pied Piper will be the headliners for New Talent Night.’’

  “We got the job?” Allegra repeated. Once again, she was not completely certain she had heard him right.

  But she could feel the reaction of the others, and she knew that that was, indeed, what Big Bart had said.

  Allegra was beaming as she looked over at Steve. She wondered if the way she was really feeling inside was reflected on her face, if there were any way at all she could convey the euphoria she was experiencing.

  “Thank you! Thank you so much!” she cried, clapping her hands together.

  “Don’t thank me,’’ Big Bart replied matter-of-factly. “Just sing as well as you did here today. The pay is two hundred dollars, and I expect you to be here at the club no later than seven-thirty.”

  “Seven-thirty it is,” said Steve. “Uh, when exactly is New Talent Night?”

  “Saturday night, August 12. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a business to run.”

  With that, Big Bart shuffled over to a door that said “Employees Only” and disappeared.

  The moment he was gone, Allegra began jumping up and down.

  “We did it! We did it!” She ran over to Steve and threw her arms around him. “We really got a job!”

  But for some unfathomable reason, Steve did not appear to be sharing her enthusiasm.

  “Wait a minute. Not so fast.”

  “What’s the matter?” Allegra was puzzled as she drew away. “You don’t seem very happy about all this.”

  “Allegra, doesn’t that date mean anything to you?”

  “You mean aside from the fact that that’s the date we’re all going to become professional rock musicians?” Allegra replied, still so wrapped up in her glee that she couldn’t see very far beyond. “Big Bart said it’s Saturday night, August 12.”

  And then she gasped as everything fell into place.

  “Oh, no!” she cried, both hands flying up to her cheeks. “August 12! That’s the night I’m supposed to perform the concerto!”

  “Now you’ve got it,” Steve said glumly.

  “Talk about a conflict of interest,” said Jake. “Now what are we going to do?’’

  “Does that mean Pied Piper got its first gig and gave it up, all within two minutes?” Mike added. He sounded disappointed.

  “No, it doesn’t mean that at all,” Allegra insisted. More thoughtfully she added “At least, not necessarily.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m willing to skip that concert for this gig,” Jake said.

  “Me, too,’’ Mike was quick to agree. “This is much more important to me. Besides, there are so many violinists that they’ll never even miss me.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather go with this,” Kenny added. “That is, if that’s what the rest of the group decides.”

  Steve was looking at Allegra searchingly, “I’m willing to skip the concert, too,” he said earnestly. “If that’s what you want, that is.”

  She swallowed hard. “So what you’re saying is that the whole decision is up to me.”

  “It looks that way. After all, you’re the one who’s been chosen to perform a concerto that night, and you’re also the shining star of the group. I hate to lay all this on you, Allegra, but you’re the one who’s going to have to decide whether or not Pied Piper plays here on that Saturday night.’’

  Allegra just nodded. At the moment, she didn’t think she could have managed to speak, even if she had had anything to say.

  * * * *

  “Megan, can I talk to you? It’s, uh, kind of important.”

  Allegra was surprised to find that she was actually a bit nervous about seeking out her friend so she could talk over her dilemma with her. After all, Megan had been acting so funny for so long. Ever since the concerto competition, in fact.

  But she really needed to try sorting things out, and it was Megan she wanted to talk to. She found her in the girls’ dorm room, sitting at the desk, writing a letter to her mother. Tiffany was off on her own, as usual, wanting nothing to do with either of them. It seemed like a good time to talk.

  “Of course we can talk,” Megan replied.

  She folded up the letter, as if she didn’t want Allegra to see what she had written. Then she turned around in her chair. There was a concerned look on her face.

  “What is it, Allegra? You sound as if there’s something wrong.”

  “Well, there is, sort of. Actually, the real problem is that there’s too much right. What I mean is ...” Allegra took a deep breath. “Megan, you know that Steve Sebastian and I and a few of the other kids—Kenny, Mike, and Jake—got together and formed a rock band, right?”

  “Sure. I heard you play in the lobby that time, remember?”

  “Right.” Allegra, sitting on the corner of her bed, squirmed a bit at the memory of the cool reception her friend had given her right afterward. “Anyway, we’ve all been really excited about it, right from the start. I even thought up a name—Pied Piper. And then Steve came up with his own idea, that we should try auditioning for New Talent Night at one of the clubs in town, the Ace of Clubs.’’

  Megan nodded. “I know that place. I’ve walked by it.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll get right to the punch line. Megan, we got the gig. The owner of the club liked us so much that he hired us on the spot.”

  “That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

  While Megan felt a twinge of jealousy, the feeling that Allegra seemed to be able to get anything she set her heart on—as well as things she didn’t even care about—she was also remembering the conversation she had had with Paul about this very subject. A good friend felt happy about her friends’ achievements, even if they sometimes made her feel as if she herself didn’t quite measure up. And so when she congratulated Allegra, her words were sincere.

  “Wait a minute. Not so fast,” Allegra went on, shaking her head slowly. “It’s not that simple. It turns out that New Talent Night at the Ace of Clubs happens to be the exact same night that I’m scheduled to perform the concerto with the orchestra! So what it comes down to is that I have to choose between the two.”

  She sighed loudly, then wailed. “Oh, Megan, what should I do?”

  Megan thought hard for a few seconds. She knew that whatever she said would be important to Allegra. Yet she couldn’t ignore the fact that she, too, had an interest in this decision. A great interest, in fact. After all, she had been the runner-up in the concerto competition—the person who would be performing that night in the event that the winner couldn’t go on. And that, she knew only too well, was something she wanted more than anything else in the world.

  But she had to put all that aside for now. Allegra had come to her for advice—good, honest, untainted advice. And as a true friend, it was important that she be careful about what she said.

  “Allegra,” she said slowly, “what I think you have to do is choose which one of those two things is the most important to you.”

  “But my parents are already planning to come up to Wildwood for that concert! My father even cancelled a concert he was all set to give in New York that night. You wouldn’t believe how excited they are. It means so much to them....”

  “But what about you?” Megan reminded her gently. “Yes, I know your parents would be disappointed if you didn’t go ahead and perform that concerto. And it is important to consider their feelings. But that’s not the only thing to consider.’’

  Gently, she said, “All I’m saying is that in making this decision, don’t forget your own feelings. They count for something, too, Allegra. In fact, they count for a lot.”

  Allegra pondered the advice she had just been given. And then, with a funny smile, she said, “So I guess you’re not going to tell me exactly what the best thing for me to do is then,
huh?”

  Megan laughed. “No, Allegra. It’s not that simple. Nobody can make a decision like this for you. I’m afraid you have to do it all by yourself.” With a sigh, she added, “I guess it’s just part of growing up.”

  “Boy, how did you ever get so smart?” Allegra said teasingly.

  “Well, how did you ever get so lucky? I mean, really, Allegra, just look at you. Two important, exciting things to do in one evening. Most people would be green with envy over something like that!”

  Allegra suddenly grew serious. “How about you, Megan? Are you green with envy?”

  Megan froze. So Allegra had known what was going on, after all. “It showed?”

  “Kind of. I think I understand, Megan. I mean, I know how important that concerto competition was to you. Even so, it still hurt me to see you react that way.”

  “I’m so sorry, Allegra!” Tears had sprung to Megan’s eyes. “I didn’t want to feel that way. I just couldn’t help it!”

  “I know. And who knows? If you had beat me at something that I really, really cared about—like auditioning at the Ace of Clubs or something—maybe I would have reacted the same way.

  “But you know, it doesn’t seem to matter very much,” Allegra went on. “What matters to me is what happens from here on in. What I really hope for is that you and I can go back to being friends again. That’s all I care about.’’

  “That’s what I care about, too. And I promise to hold up my end of the bargain. And Allegra?”

  “Yes, Megan?”

  She took a deep breath before she spoke. “I also promise that I’ll support you one hundred percent in whatever choice you make.”

  And much to her surprise, she found that she really, really meant it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Tiffany, wake up. Wake up, Tiff!”

  Slowly, painfully, Tiffany was being dragged out of a deep sleep. It was like emerging from a pool of warm, relaxing water, being forced out into the cold. She fought against it as hard as she could.

  But whoever or whatever it was that wanted her awake was not about to give up easily. It was a losing battle.

  “Come on, Tiffany. This is really important. You’ve got to wake up!”

  “Go away!’’ she groaned, pulling the covers over her head.

  Maybe, just maybe, she could retreat back into sleep—and the delicious dream she now realized she had been having. In her dream, she was being pursued by two men, and she had been trying to decide which one of them to go out with: the adoring Evan or the lovestruck Jason.

  But reality hit her hard and fast. The voice that persisted in calling to her belonged to neither Evan nor Jason. Instead, it belonged to her roommate Allegra, not exactly her first choice for an early morning companion.

  And so she realized that the wonderful dilemma was nothing more than her own creation. Evan, the real Evan, was old news. As for the part about Jason being anything even close to lovestruck—well, it didn’t take very long for any hopes she had had that it was all anything more than a dream to fade.

  “Tiffany, you have to get up,” Allegra was saying. “It’s already past nine. Besides, there’s a surprise here for you.”

  “A surprise?” Her eyes were suddenly wide open. She sat up in bed, all traces of sleepiness quickly falling away. “What do you mean, a surprise? What is it?”

  “Here, you can see for yourself.” Allegra stepped back and, with a dramatic wave of her arm, motioned toward a huge bouquet of long-stemmed red roses sitting on top of the dresser in a large glass vase. “These just came a few minutes ago.”

  “Roses? For me?” Tiffany blinked.

  “Yes, they’re for you. Aren’t they gorgeous?”

  Tiffany climbed out of bed and went over to the dresser. Sure enough, they were real. A dozen red roses. She reached out and touched one, still not totally convinced that this was actually happening. And then she leaned forward to inhale their sweet, delicate fragrance.

  “I hope you don’t mind that we went ahead and put them in water,’’ Allegra was saying. “Jennifer Connors and I both happened to be down in the lobby when they arrived, and when she saw that flowers had been delivered here, she insisted on finding a vase for them right away. She was afraid they’d wilt. Anyway, being the good-hearted soul I am, I volunteered to bring them up to our room.”

  Suddenly Tiffany’s heart sank. “Oh, I bet they’re just from my father. It’s probably his way of apologizing for behaving like such a fool lately.’’

  “Well, here’s the card.” Allegra reached into the leaves that framed the bouquet and brought out a small white envelope. “Why don’t you open it and see?”

  Bracing herself against disappointment, Tiffany tore open the envelope. She skimmed the message. And then she felt a strange, wonderful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Oh, my gosh!” she cried, dramatically falling over backward onto the bed. “I’m in love!”

  “Who are they from?” Allegra asked. “That guy who’s always following you around like a puppy? The boy who plays the oboe.... What’s his name? Mark?”

  “No, they’re not from Mark,” Tiffany snapped. She was irritated over being reminded of one of her least favorite people in the whole world. “Of course they’re not from Mark.”

  “Well, then, who are they from?”

  A satisfied smile crept across Tiffany’s face. “They’re from Jason Diamond, that’s who. And,” she added, jumping up from the bed, “I’m going to go find him to thank him right now. Gee, I wonder what I should wear?”

  It didn’t take her long to decide—or to get dressed. Less than fifteen minutes later she was standing outside Jason’s room, wearing a white miniskirt and a peach-colored tank top. Her long blond hair was left free, and the makeup she had put on was light but flattering.

  There was also a pink glow on her cheeks that no makeup could ever create. To set off the whole look, she was carrying one of the roses. She knew she looked lovely—and she had never felt more grown-up in her life.

  “Jason?’’ she called softly, knocking on his door. “Jason? Are you awake?’’

  The door opened almost immediately. As usual, he was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. His hair was wet; he had obviously just come out of the shower. He smelled fresh and clean, the fragrance of the soap he had used still clinging to his skin. The moment he saw her, his face lit up in a huge smile.

  “Well, hello!” he said.

  “I got the flowers,” she said, suddenly shy. “They’re so beautiful. I’m ... I’m overwhelmed. Thank you, Jason.”

  “I’m glad you liked them. Hey, come on in. No need to stand out in the hall.’’

  He closed the door after she came in and awkwardly perched on the edge of the only chair in the room.

  “So you liked the roses, huh?” He then sat down on the bed, looking pretty pleased with himself.

  “Yes, of course I did. They’re gorgeous. You know,” she added, flirtatiously cocking her head to one side, “I was afraid you’d given up on me.”

  “Given up on you?” Jason looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when I was playing your music the other day, I sounded so awful.’’ She wrinkled her nose, then looked over at him coyly.

  “Aw, so the cello’s not your strong point. So what? There are other things in life, you know.”

  She was just about to flash him a knowing smile when there was a loud knock at the door.

  “Who could that be?” she asked, annoyed.

  But Jason had already dashed across the room and flung open the door.

  “Hi, Jason!’’ Mark Jackson said brightly, peering into the room right past him. “Oh, hi, Tiffany. I thought I heard your voice.”

  “Hello, Mark.” Tiffany sighed impatiently.

  Can’t that boy leave me alone for just five minutes? she was thinking.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Mark, old boy?” Jason’s voice was also edged with annoyance.

 
“Naw, this is just a social call.’’ Already Mark had strode into the room, uninvited, and plopped down on the bed next to Jason.

  “Nice rose,” he commented, gesturing with his chin toward the graceful red flower Tiffany was toying with.

  “Thanks,” she replied coldly. “It was a gift.”

  “Oh, yeah? What, is it your birthday or something?”

  “No, it’s not my birthday. Look, Mark, don’t you have anything better to do than go around interrupting other people’s conversations?”

  Mark pretended to think for a few seconds. “No, not really.”

  He turned his attention toward Jason.

  “So, Jason, old man, how’s it going?” he asked in a hearty voice.

  “Fine, just fine. Super duper, in fact. How about you? How are things going?’’

  “Things are going great. In fact, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I was wondering if maybe we could get some of the kids together again some time soon to run through more of your music. I overheard everybody playing in the lobby the other day, and, boy, I was really impressed.’’

  “Really?” Jason asked, looking pleased.

  “I’ll say. In fact, I particularly liked that one piece you played at the very end. What was it called? ‘Melody for Jackhammer and Hoot Owl?’ It was just terrific the way it kept switching from a major key to a minor key....”

  Mark and Jason immediately became absorbed in a conversation about one of Jason’s favorite subjects: his music and how wonderful it was. Tiffany, meanwhile, was all but forgotten. Once or twice she tried to make an intelligent comment, but it didn’t take her long to realize she was wasting her time. She lapsed into silence, thinking about little besides how bored she was. That, and how much she hated Mark Jackson.

  And then she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Gee, this has been fascinating,” she said dryly. “But I really think I’d better be going.’’

  “So soon?” Mark looked disappointed.

  “Listen, before you go, Tiffany, I, uh, wanted to ask you something,” Jason said.

  Jason eyed Mark nervously. He hesitated, as if trying to decide if this was the best time to say what he wanted to say.

 

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