Take a Bow
Page 7
But we all know Emme’s thoughts on me as a boyfriend, so that is never going to happen.
“What’s up?” She looks nervous. She keeps plucking at the guitar in her lap.
“What’s going on with the Soap Stud?”
Emme glares at me.
I continue. “What? He comes to one gig and all of a sudden the two of you are…?”
She gets up. “This is what you wanted to talk to me about? Do I even need to remind you who he’s dating? Please, Ethan, you should know better. Just because a guy and a girl are friends doesn’t mean there is anything romantic going on.”
That’s not devastating to hear. “No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, although I’m just trying to figure out when good ol’ Six-Pack became such an important part of your life.”
“He has a name.” She reaches for her jacket.
“Okay. Carter.” I take her jacket from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just …”
“I know. It’s …” She bites her lip and my heart sinks. “I don’t know.” She falls back down on the couch, looking defeated. “The last few weeks have been weird. Sophie keeps disappearing, and I don’t think I need to tell you how things have been between you and me. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”
A lump rises in my throat. I used to be that person, but I don’t know what I am to her anymore.
We sit in silence for a few moments. I figure she needs to hear it. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?” I try with every ounce of strength I have to not cry. But I think back to that day and what happened.
I walked into practice fifteen minutes late and I felt like crap.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said. So it’s not like I didn’t say I was sorry.
“Dude, did you just wake up in a gutter?” Jack asked.
I knew I was a wreck. I hadn’t slept in days, my hair was a mess, I hadn’t shaved, my clothes were wrinkled and dirty.
“No,” I told them. “Kelsey and I broke up.”
Nobody said anything.
“For real this time. I screwed up. What a shock, Ethan screwed up. I told her everything that happened after last week’s gig. About that girl. Whose name I can’t even remember. I’m devastated. I threw away everything for someone whose name I don’t even remember. I shouldn’t have had those drinks before the gig. I just needed to get some courage. It was our biggest gig ever, you know?”
More silence.
“What? Am I missing something?”
They all exchanged glances. Ben finally was the one to speak. “Well, I mean, it isn’t the first time you guys have broken up. Or the first time you cheated …”
Jack broke in. “Yeah, like every song you write is about it.”
“But we’re really done this time. There’s no way she’s going to take me back.”
Ben sighed. “Doesn’t she always?”
Emme let out a laugh. “Yeah, but she shouldn’t.”
“Oh! Burn!” Jack went to put his hand up to give Emme a high five, but she shrugged instead.
“I’m sorry, is this funny?” I couldn’t believe that, out of everyone, Emme would take Kelsey’s side in this.
“No, not at all.” Emme rubbed her eyes. “It’s not funny. It’s exhausting, Ethan. We go through this all the time. So just write your forgiveness song so we can move on.”
“Like it’s that simple? Emme, really? How can you be so cold to me?”
Emme’s face got flushed. “Get over yourself, Ethan.”
“What?”
She got up. “How can I be so cold? Am I the one who continually cheats on my girlfriend? That’s cold.”
I stared at her. I’d never heard her say anything negative about anybody. Ever. Did she really think that about me?
“You know what gets me? You really are an amazing person, seriously. I used to respect you so much.”
The words used to stung.
“You’re one of my closest friends, but when I think about the stuff you do … sometimes I don’t know why I trust you so much. I’ve never met anybody who hurts someone as much as you do. And now you’ve started drinking and doing God knows what before our shows. You’ve become so unpredictable onstage, we never know what you’re going to do.”
This riled me up. “Okay, so first I’m too quiet, now I’m too unpredictable. Can I ever do anything right?”
“Don’t blame your behavior on us. Take responsibility for once.”
“This isn’t easy for me, you know.”
Emme got in my face. “I’ll make it easy for you. STOP CHEATING.”
We were all surprised by Emme screaming. Jack, who is always smiling, looked stunned.
“Just STOP IT. Oh, you don’t know how you can get her back? STOP CHEATING, Ethan! It’s not that hard. Really, it isn’t. Or, better yet, stop getting back together and making promises you can’t keep.”
I tried to defend myself, but came up blank.
“You want to know what I think?” Emme asked.
Normally, the answer would have been yes, but not at that moment.
“You do this to yourself, put your finger repeatedly on the self-destruct button because you need it to write. It would be fine if you weren’t bringing others down with you. Have you for once thought about how it must feel for Kelsey? All you do is think about yourself, what a mess you’re in. Your pain. But what about Kelsey? The one YOU cheat on? She probably agonizes every time she can’t come to one of our shows, because of what happens when she doesn’t come. You CHEAT. You take whatever girl comes along and pays you a compliment and you forget about Kelsey.
“But lately that hasn’t been enough, has it? You need more things to feel sorry for yourself about, so you go get drunk. It’s like you’re afraid of being alone or coherent so you can deal with whatever is the real problem you have. And I feel sorry for you about that. But only for that. For the rest of the stuff, I’m just sick of it.
“We all are. So just figure it out, because I can’t do this anymore if you’re going to continue to be like this.”
I looked around to see Jack and Ben nodding.
“Honestly, Ethan, I don’t know who you are anymore. But whoever this is, I don’t like him very much.”
I didn’t know how to react or what to say. I still don’t. All I do know is that it has been weeks and it’s still awkward. We both stare at each other. Once again, there’s tension between us.
“You really did hurt me,” I say. “But I needed to hear it. You were right, and I think I’ve been better. Or at least I’ve tried to be.”
She nods.
“I’m not falling into my old traps. I’m not making any promises I can’t keep. I’m not drinking or doing anything that affects the band on or off the stage in a negative way.”
She keeps nodding.
“You said what you had to say because you care about me. So that’s what I’m doing now. Sort of returning the favor.”
Emme looks up at me for the first time. “What does any of this have to do with Carter?”
“It doesn’t. It has to do with the senior project.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what she thought I was going to say, but that certainly wasn’t it.
“I guess it’s pretty obvious that we’ll be working on our projects together.” She nods in agreement. “And I’m more than happy to have you record your songs here, but I have one condition.”
She looks at me quizzically.
“You have to sing your songs.”
She gets up. “Ethan, you know I can’t sing.”
“No, I don’t know that. Because you can sing. You don’t seem to realize that, because someone’s been brainwashing you all these years into thinking that she’s the superior singer.”
She clenches her jaw. “You’ve made your thoughts on Sophie abundantly clear. But she is the better singer.”
“Your songs would be a million times better if you sang them. Those songs are your heart and soul. You’r
e lending them to somebody who could never have as much heart as you have, even if she tried.”
“I can’t —”
I cut her off. “You’ve got to step up, Emme. You’ve got to let people hear your voice, hear you. You’re better than being stuck in the background.”
I take her hands.
“You’re my best friend. You’re the most remarkable person in my life. And … I want you to believe in yourself as much as I do. I told you that I’m not making any promises that I can’t keep. So here’s a promise to you. I will be there with you every step of the way and do whatever I can to help.”
I reach up and wipe away the tear that has begun to work its way down her cheek.
“I don’t think I can do it,” she says quietly.
“Yes, you can.”
I kiss her lightly on her forehead and wrap my arms around her.
I know she’s scared. Singing in front of an audience is intimidating. But if I can do it, she can.
I did it for her. Pretty much everything I’ve done out of my comfort zone, I’ve done for Emme.
The voices in my head quiet significantly as I sit there with her.
There is only one voice left.
There is only one thing left to say to her. But I’ve used up all my courage.
So as I hold her, I think in my head: Emme Connelly, I love you. And I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met.
Okay, so not everything has gone according to my Plan. It’s my senior year, my last chance to make a statement at this school. To stand out. To be a star.
So, no, my Plan hasn’t worked out. But there is no Plan B.
I don’t know where it all went wrong. At this point, I was supposed to be the biggest star in the school. The one that the entire incoming freshman class would follow around and aspire to be.
But no, I’m stuck in some cruel otherworld where the tables have turned and I’m the one forced to practically beg Emme for help. And the cruel irony of it all is that I’M the person who had to basically drag her here kicking and screaming. And what does she do to repay me? She goes off and becomes part of a band that everybody here seems to love.
The least she could do at this point is help me get the part in A Little Night Music.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” Amanda offers. “I can practice the songs with you.”
I turn my back to her as I examine my closet. “You’re so sweet, Mandy. It’s just that Emme’s in the band and will be playing during the auditions, so she’s got the inside edge that I need to nail the part.”
I start to rummage through my closet for the perfect audition outfit. I’m so sick of all my clothes. For whatever reason, Carter doesn’t want to go to any openings or premieres lately, so I haven’t had an excuse to beg my parents for money for a new outfit.
I’m so sick of begging people for help. Just wait until I’m out of CPA and become a star. They’ll all come groveling to me to thank them when I win my Best New Artist Grammy.
“You’ll totally get the part, Soph. You’re the most amazing singer in the entire school. Sarah Moffitt —”
I turn around quickly and snap at Amanda, “I thought we’d agreed to not mention that name.”
Amanda shuts her big mouth.
Sarah Moffitt. For whatever reason, she’s been every teacher’s favorite student since day one. It’s like some Big Conspiracy Against Sophie. She’s given all the lead parts. She’s not even that good a singer. Sure, she has better range than I do. So what? She has, like, zero stage presence.
I made sure she was auditioning for a different role before I signed up for Desirée. (Of course she’s chosen Madame Armfeldt — if she wants to play my mother, an old hag, that’s fine by me.) She’s been handed every role we’ve competed against. What ticked me off the most was last year, she got to play Rizzo in Grease while I had to be Frenchy. I didn’t get any solos to sing. It was annoying. But now we’re seniors and have to fight over the lead parts. I chose Desirée because of the song “Send in the Clowns.” It will be my moment to shine. Every teacher who has placed me as “average” — a word that I do not identify with and never have — will see that I belong in the Senior Showcase.
That’s the only focus I have this year. That showcase. I will get a spot, no matter what I have to do. And when those talent scouts see me, game over. I’ll have a record deal before we graduate. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I will do whatever it takes to get it.
I pull out a fitted skirt and blazer. “I figure I’ll put my hair up like this” — I pull my shiny dark brunette hair in a twist — “wear a simple, yet flattering suit, pearl earrings … a classic, elegant look. A little unexpected as well. I’m sure everybody else will have normal school clothes on. I should probably …”
I pick up the phone to call Emme. “Hey, Emme!”
Amanda sulks on the couch. She desperately wants to be the one to write my songs for me. But she can’t. Emme is a way better songwriter.
“Hi, Sophie!”
No matter how long I go without talking to Emme, she’s always there for me. She’s a true friend.
“I have a question about the auditions. Do you know if they’re expecting anybody to arrive in period costume?”
“Um, the show is set at the beginning of the nineteenth century, so I doubt it.”
“No, I know, but I figure I should try to look conservative. Do you know what the sight song is?”
For the audition, we have to sing a song from the musical — I’ll obviously be doing “Send in the Clowns” — but then we’re also forced to sing a song from sheet music, completely unprepared. Which I’ve always hated to do. Plus, it makes zero sense because all the songs we’re performing are from the musical. There aren’t any originals. I think Dr. Ryan, the director of the musical, is doing it solely to make it difficult for me to get the part. She beyond favors Sarah, it’s so ridiculous. I swear, I even once heard Sarah call Dr. Ryan by her first name, Pam. Like that is appropriate student-teacher behavior. It seems that Sarah is doing whatever it takes to get ahead, so I’m just following her lead.
“You know that I’m not allowed to tell you that,” Emme says softly.
I wish Emme realized that all is not fair in auditions and war.
“I know, but I get so nervous during auditions, especially if you aren’t there backing me up.”
“But I will be there.”
Dammit. “Yeah, but it won’t be just you and me. I feel all alone in this, and you know, I …” I know what will work with Emme. I start working up tears. “I really need this, Em. And you are the only one who can help me. I need you. Please.”
I sniffle while Emme takes her time to respond. Amanda flips through one of my magazines.
“The problem is that it’s an original song. Dr. Ryan asked Ethan to use one of his songs for the audition.”
Crap. Ethan. Probably the person who would most love to see me fail. That guy has not liked me since day one and he’s all overprotective of Emme, like she belongs to him. She owes him nothing. I’m the reason she’s at CPA, not him.
“Why does he hate me so much, Em? Why?” I wish Dr. Ryan could see me now; I’d be guaranteed the part. My voice cracks and everything.
“He doesn’t … oh, Sophie. I’m so sorry that you’re upset. Let me see what I can do.”
“You know that I’m eternally grateful to you, right, Em? I’m going to entitle my first album Emme is my BFF and I owe her everything.”
I go on and on about how amazing and wonderful she is and pretend that talking to her has made everything better. I hang up the phone and see Amanda staring at me. “Oh, Emme!” She exaggerates her words. “You are the best thing ever, thank you for getting off your high horse for two seconds to help li’l ol’ me.”
I bust out laughing. I can’t believe how needy I sounded.
“Enough about Emme.” I pick up my outfit to try it on. “I’ve got a role to win.”
Sometimes it’s like pulli
ng teeth with Emme. You’d think she’d want to help her best friend land a role that could change her life, but she keeps saying things like she’ll “get in trouble” or Ethan will “kill” her.
Does she not realize that this is how show business works? It’s a tough place and you have to take whatever advantages you can. For me, that’s knowing as much about the audition as possible. And the person who can give me that is Emme.
Although, if I have to keep forcing tears with her, I’m going to have nothing left for the actual audition. Not with the constant role I play in Who Loves Emme More? I’ve even been wearing the bracelet she bought me for Christmas or my birthday or something a few years ago. I know how much it means to her that I wear it. It’s not really my style, it’s cutesy — like Emme. My style is more fashion-forward, modern chic.
Anyway, I decide to sit it out. She’ll crack if I give her the silent treatment.
She just sits there and studies on her bed. She isn’t even looking at me. Or noticing that I’m mad at her.
Different strategy. “Ahem!” I say loudly.
She looks up. Bingo.
“So sorry, Em. I’m just thinking about the Senior Showcase and hoping that I have enough major parts coming up to be considered for the audition.”
We aren’t even allowed to audition for the showcase; we are asked. And even then, your spot isn’t guaranteed.
“But it won’t matter, I guess. I’m singing one of your songs after all. No one can say no to an Emme Connelly song.”
Flattery, my dears, gets you everywhere.
She smiles at me … then starts reading from her history book.
“Have you decided what songs you’re going to put on your CD for your senior thesis?”
She looks up. “Um, not really. I know a few. I’m starting to work on a new song for the showcase, plus I need a couple more for the college auditions.”
Then something hits me.
“You know what’s awesome. Your senior project is perfect. It helps you with your college applications and we can use it as my demo.”
Emme bites her lip. Her and her stupid lip biting. Just flippin’ spit it out if you have something to say!
“Is there a problem?” I try to say sweetly.