by Jen Calonita
Lidia’s face seemed to close up. “No.”
“That’s okay!” Sydney tried to act normal even though her heart was pounding out of her chest. “I’m sure I have the music on my phone.” She pulled up the playlist and turned to the crowd. “Hi, everyone! Lidia and I are so happy you could hang out with us today.”
Most of the girls turned away from the sundae bar, but a few were still adding toppings. The jelly beans were a huge hit. So was the whipped cream. Sydney strained to be heard over the noise of a container running out of air. She felt her phone buzz, but she ignored it.
“Bradley Academy has great extracurriculars for you to choose from, but the one we’re hoping you’ll consider this year is …”
The whipped cream container sputtered to a stop. Sydney heard a girl say, “Do you know if they have more?”
Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. “… the Nightingales.” She smiled brightly, trying to remember to make eye contact with each and every girl. The Nightingales would be all about personal attention! “With me and Lidia as the new co-captains, we are sure this team is on its way back to the late-1990s glory days!”
“Is that how long it’s been since this group won?” someone whispered as someone else dumped candy into a bowl.
Sydney was starting to feel sweaty. “But it’s not just the songs and the arrangements that make this group fun. Or the competitions, which are cool as well. The Nightingales is a sisterhood. We look out for each other.”
Lidia suddenly burst out laughing. “Sorry!” she told the others. “I was thinking of something funny.”
Sydney was so thrown, she forgot her next line. She looked at Lidia helplessly, but Lidia had gone back to eating. Sydney could feel the sweat dripping down her back. She never got stage fright. What was happening to her? “It’s going to be an amazing a cappella season and we hope you’ll—”
Someone started coughing. Then another girl. Sophie spit out a jelly bean and held up the mushy red bean in her palm. “These taste like throw-up!” Sydney’s phone buzzed again. What was going on? She pulled it out and read the string of texts.
GRIFFIN: You have been hit! I repeat: You have been hit! The Kingfishers got to your candy bar. DON’T EAT THE JELLY BEANS! They taste like barf!
GRIFFIN: Don’t shoot the messenger. I didn’t know!
GRIFFIN: Okay, I knew.
GRIFFIN: But then I felt guilty and told you! DON’T EAT THE JELLY BEANS!
Sydney let out a small yelp. Lidia looked up from her hot fudge sundae to find Sydney staring at her phone in horror.
“Thanks, Griffin!” she heard Syd mutter before diving onto the toppings table and sending candy flying. Girls shrieked and dove out of the way. “Don’t eat the candy!” Syd said hysterically. Her green-and-blue paisley dress—the one Lidia had borrowed to wear to In the Heights to look good for her crush—was now covered in hot fudge and caramel sauce. “The Kingfishers swapped the jelly beans out for ones that taste like barf!”
Around the room, Lidia heard the lovely sounds of girls spitting out food into napkins or gagging.
“Why would the Kingfishers do that?” asked a ninth grader named Donna. The girl seemed sweet but was so quiet she was almost impossible to hear. On her right hand she had drawn in Sharpie a puppet she called Ms. Heel. Lidia noticed when Donna “pretended” to be Ms. Heel, her voice was much stronger. Lidia had no idea how this girl was going to survive auditions, but she believed everyone deserved a chance. Mr. Wickey had given one to Sydney and her, pulling them up to the Nightingales a year early in eighth grade, and Lidia always liked to return the favor. Who knew? Maybe the puppet could sing.
“They’re our rivals!” Sydney scooped up the bowl of jelly beans and tossed them in the trash, then pulled apart the window blinds to look outside. “It’s tradition for the two a cappella groups to prank each other, but this is going too far. Now they’re starting before the season even begins!” She let the blinds drop and they banged against the glass. “Well, wait till they see how we retaliate.” Sydney began texting. “Griffin and those guys don’t know what they’re in for. I don’t care if he warned me!”
There was his name again. Sydney and Griffin were now kissing and texting right under Lidia’s nose. Sydney didn’t seem to care whether Lidia knew, but also didn’t have the decency to tell her to her face. Her heart literally felt like it was being ripped in half.
“Griffin warned you about the jelly beans?” Lidia asked quietly.
Sydney’s sun-kissed face grew pale. She dropped her phone onto the table as if it were on fire. “Yes, but …”
Over the past few days—which she’d spent in her dark room, lying under the covers until they started to smell because she hadn’t showered—Lidia had gone over every possible scenario in her mind. But no matter how hard she tried to wish away what she had seen at Don’t Be Crabby’s, she knew there was no other explanation: The same Sydney who had said, “This will be the summer he finally realizes you’re perfect for him! I’ll make sure of it!” had fallen for Griffin herself.
Lidia was driving herself insane wondering how long it had been going on. Did they talk about what a fool she was for not seeing what was happening? Were they together on opening night when Sydney insisted Lidia talk to Griffin at the after-party? He and Sydney were both into some ridiculous show called Grocery Wars. Lidia had said she couldn’t be bothered with reality TV and she and Griffin had run out of things to say. Was Grocery Wars the reason he was with Sydney and not her?
Now she was being ridiculous!
It didn’t matter when they’d gotten together; the point was they were consciously talking behind her back. Her Griffin and her best friend. And neither had the decency to tell her.
“How often do you and Griffin text?” Lidia asked.
Lidia could see Sydney’s heart was beating out of her chest. Good. She should be anxious. “Not often. Just about play stuff.”
Lidia played coy. “Isn’t the play over?” Don’t do this, she told herself. Not now.
But she couldn’t help getting worked up. She never should have come to Pinocchio’s. She’d debated going, but she didn’t want to let the Nightingales down. She’d promised she’d be there and she never broke her promises. Unlike Sydney.
Sydney’s eyes darted around the room. It was clear the rest of the girls were listening. “Can we discuss this later?”
Lidia didn’t care who heard. Maybe everyone there already knew the truth. “It’s a simple question: The play is over, but you guys still talk?”
“Yes … I mean no … ,” Sydney said hastily. “I don’t know why he texted me and not you.” Her cheeks were reddening.
Oh, Syd. Why can’t you come clean? Lidia thought. If you cared about our friendship at all, you’d come clean right now.
“Can we get back to the meeting?” Sydney said. She looked at the others. Her hands were shaking. “I’m sorry about the jelly beans. You should all make new sundaes. I’ll have my dad bring out more toppings that I’m sure aren’t tampered with.” Sydney opened the private room door and called out to him. “DAD! We need new toppings, please!” She closed the door again. “Great. All fixed. Everything is fine. Just fine!”
Things were not fine, and Lidia wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep from screaming that out loud in front of everyone. But if she had an outburst, it would scare off potential Nightingales. They’d have no team. Lidia didn’t want that to happen, but she was beginning to enjoy watching Sydney squirm.
“And the fun isn’t over!” Sydney’s laugh sounded fake. Maybe she wasn’t as good an actress as Lidia thought she was.
Then again, she had pulled off dating Griffin behind Lidia’s back.
“Lidia and I thought we’d give you a taste of what we’ve cooked up for this season.” Sydney grabbed her iPhone and punched up the arrangement of “For Good” the two had spent weeks working on. Sydney started to sing.
Lidia was supposed to jump in on the third line. She d
idn’t, because when she looked at Sydney, all she saw was that kiss. The image hurt worse than anything had ever hurt her before. Her eyes began to well up with tears and her emotions started to bubble over. She had to get out of there. Now. She headed for the door.
“Lid?” Sydney stopped mid-verse. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t be here right now.” Lidia pulled the door open. Everyone was staring.
“Don’t go,” Sydney begged hoarsely. “We should talk.”
“It’s too late for that,” Lidia said forcefully. Sydney could pretend to look all hurt and innocent, but Lidia knew the truth, and now she wanted her to hurt as bad as she did. “You made me look like a fool. I’m your best friend and you humiliated me,” she said shakily. The girls in the room started whispering. “You kissed Griffin! The one boy I’ve liked forever!” The whispering grew louder.
Sydney’s eyes widened. “Lidia, no! I …”
“No excuses! You kissed Griffin Mancini! I saw you!” The girls in the room were eating this up, but Lidia didn’t care. “You knew how much I liked him, but that didn’t stop you! You were my best friend! How could you do that to me?” The room was silent except for the sound of someone munching on what could only be Heath Bar crumbles.
“I am your best friend!” Sydney said, trying to reach for Lidia again. “Please let me explain.”
“You are a liar,” Lidia choked out. “No one in this room should trust a word coming out of your mouth.” She was revved up now and couldn’t stop. “Wonder why you’re all here?” Lidia said to the others. “So she can talk you into being a Nightingale so the group doesn’t fold. Well, maybe it should!” She looked at Sydney again. “You can’t be trusted as captain. I’ll never believe a word that comes out of your mouth again!”
Sydney looked horrified. “Lidia, let me tell you what really happened.”
“I saw you with my own eyes,” Lidia said, her heart racing faster. “You’re on your own from here on out.” She slammed the door behind her, and as she did she heard Gabby’s voice very clearly.
“I told you this group was cursed,” Gabby said.
Lidia didn’t stop to hear any more. She just wanted to go home and crawl back in bed.
After she changed the sheets.
Thankfully, the bus home was pulling up as she reached the stop. Lidia jumped on, standing at the front of the bus for a moment to see if Sydney had followed. Not that she wanted her to, but she thought her supposed best friend might try.
But no Sydney appeared. She was probably too busy trying to save her reputation in front of potential Nightingales.
Lidia took a seat in the middle of the bus in an empty row and let the scene that had just unfolded wash over her. She’d told a roomful of girls from Bradley Academy that she had a crush on Griffin Mancini and that her best friend had kissed him.
What had she done?
She covered her face with her hands and practiced breathing in and out.
This was what she got for not talking to Sydney beforehand.
But why should she have said something? Sydney was the one who had torn their friendship apart! The internal fight with herself lasted the whole drive back to campus.
“Bradley Academy,” the bus driver announced as he rolled to a stop at the gates to campus.
Lidia had been so lost in her own thoughts, she wasn’t ready to get off. “Hold the door!” she yelled, grabbing her crossbody bag. Her headphones were strewn on the seat next to her along with her phone, which was blowing up with texts she was ignoring. She had her dance bag with her too, since she was originally going from Pinocchio’s to class, but now she was done so early that she had the chance to go home first. She piled all the items up in her arms and tried to move fast, but the doors started to close anyway.
“Hold the door!” Lidia shouted, running up the aisle.
A boy stepped out into the aisle at the last second and the pair collided, Lidia’s dance bag tumbling. She heard her jazz shoes slide under the seats as the bus doors shut.
“Come on!” Lidia groaned for more reasons than one.
“I’m sorry!” the boy said, reaching down at the same time as Lidia, their heads colliding.
“Ouch!” Lidia rubbed her head. Her anger from earlier nearly bubbled over. How much more could she take today? She looked up to glare at him. “Watch where you’re go—oh.”
The guy was pretty cute. He had black-rimmed glasses that were hanging crooked on his tan face, and dazed big brown eyes. His short, messy black hair looked like it hadn’t been combed, which was kind of adorable, and he’d missed a button on the gray short-sleeve button-down shirt he was wearing with cargo shorts. The guys she knew from school wore tees with stupid sayings on them like CHICKS DIG STICKS (a lacrosse player favorite). This look was a definite improvement.
“Let me help you find your things,” he said. “Hey, Carl? Can you hit the brake, please? We’re getting off.”
He knew the driver’s name? She had no clue what his name was and she took this route all the time.
“Jack, you’re going to push me off schedule again,” the driver said grumpily.
“Come on, Carl, you know you can make up time on the next few stops.” Jack ducked under the seat, found Lidia’s jazz shoes, and handed them to her as she stood and watched. “No one gets off at those, right, gang?” He pointed to a woman knitting in the back row. “Cecilia? You’re doing the whole loop today till you finish that baby blanket, aren’t you? You’re in no rush.”
Everyone on the bus laughed.
How did he know everyone on this bus?
Jack dove under a seat again and came back seconds later with her dance bag. He smiled. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” Lidia said, following him off the bus.
The two stared at each other at the bus stop. What is he doing at Bradley? Lidia wondered. He didn’t go to school there—she knew everyone. It wasn’t that big a school, but maybe he was starting in the fall.
“You’re welcome,” said Jack. Then he hopped back onto the bus! Lidia did a double take.
The driver groaned. “Jack! You’re not even getting off?”
“Nope.” Jack held on to the pole and winked at Lidia. “Just trying to save the day for Sailor Moon here.” Lidia looked down at the small cartoon emblem on her dance bag. He knew who Sailor Moon was? “Have a great day!” he shouted as the doors closed almost on his nose.
Lidia smiled. She wasn’t sure Jack had saved the day, but he’d definitely taken her mind off Sydney and Griffin.
For now.
“Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh, no, no! Sing it with me, Julianna!” her mom yelled.
Julianna Ramirez covered her face with her hands. She knew what her mother was trying to do—loosen her up. But there was no loosening! They were three streetlights away from the start of her first day at her new high school, the Bradley Academy, and she was nervous.
More like petrified.
Julianna had gone to school with the same kids since kindergarten, and now she was entering the tenth grade at a new school, in a new town, that was almost two hours away from the city she would always call her home—Miami. With her mom’s job transfer, her return address label would say “Naples, Florida.” This did not sound as cool as Miami. She frowned as she thought of something else to worry about. She hoped her mom had made sure to forward all their mail. She was waiting to hear from a songwriting contest at that very moment.
Julianna grabbed several strands of her dark-brown hair and began to chew on them.
“Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh, no, no!” Mrs. Ramirez sang again, off-key. She looked at Julianna expectantly. Julianna continued to chew on her hair. “Come on, Ju-Ju! ‘Crazy in Love’ is our song! You cannot dis Queen Bey by refusing to car jam with me!”
Her mother made the music louder as she pulled up to a light. She danced in her seat.
Her mother was crazy, but the beat was infectious. So were the lyrics. As much as she tried to ignore it, Beyoncé
could not be ignored.
“Got me looking so crazy right now! Your love’s got me looking so crazy right now!” she sang along with her mom, belting it for all she was worth.
By the end of their backup session for Beyoncé, Julianna was smiling. Then she realized they had turned into the Bradley Academy campus. That’s right: campus.
After Julianna’s mom found out her company was moving to Naples, they had taken a tour of Bradley and Julianna had been in awe. The place looked like her cousin Sofia’s college in Boston that she was always posting pictures of. Bradley wasn’t one building. There were several McMansions that held classrooms. In between the brick colonial buildings were turf fields and manicured lawns that looked like golf courses, state-of-the-art tech, science, and theater centers, plus an indoor pool with a retractable dome. Headmistress Sato, who gave them the tour personally, even lived on the campus with her family. Julianna wasn’t sure how her mom was swinging the tuition, but her mom kept telling her not to worry. Her job transfer and promotion must have been big.
“You sounded lovely,” her mom said, smiling at Julianna with a grin that was a mirror image of her own. They did have a Gilmore Girls–type relationship going on and they looked alike: same warm olive skin tone and chestnut-brown hair, same voice, and same stature (neither of them broke five four on the height chart). The key difference between them was that her mom had no problem singing in front of people and Julianna broke out in hives.
“Maybe you should join chorus here,” her mom suggested.
“Mom,” Julianna moaned. “Don’t go there.”
“I don’t get this sudden fear of being in the spotlight!” her mother pressed. “Ever since you didn’t make that Tonal Teens group, you’ve stopped singing anywhere people can hear you.” She tsked. “So you had a bad audition. You try again!”
“I know,” Julianna said tensely. “I just don’t love to sing in front of people, okay? It has nothing to do with the Tonal Teens!”