The Right Song Page 8

  I stop in the arched doorway of the kitchen. Aunt Leah is leaning against the counter, drinking coffee. She’s dressed in her blue elastic cargo scrub pants and matching V-neck top. I consider turning for the front door but she points to the plate set aside for me on top of the island.

  Walking over, I sink down on the stool and drink some orange juice. She comes up to the island and sets her coffee down.

  I barely get a bite out of my waffle when she says, “We have to talk about Berklee, Rora. I know I said it was okay for you to take a year off and work on music, see how it goes, but c’mon, you can do that and so much more at this school.”

  I moan. “I know, and after last night, I’m considering it.”

  She narrows her eyes, trying to decipher my words. “Okay, that was easy. What happened last night?”

  “Oh, only that I embarrassed myself in front of my classmates.”

  Aunt Leah pats my hand. “I’m sorry, honey. You want to talk about it?”

  I get up and take the plate over to the sink. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”

  “Wait.” She grabs my arm before I slip by her. “Promise we’ll talk more about Berklee later? I’ll be back around ten. Let’s talk seriously about it, okay?”

  Peering at her, I notice the worry imprinted on her face. Then I remember what I said to her yesterday before I left for school.

  “I’m sorry… about what I said,” I tell her in a soft tone. “I know you only want the best for me.”

  She releases my arm, looking down at the black and white tile as she nods.

  Glancing back up at me, she says with a warm smile, “I’m sorry I haven’t been the greatest. I mean, at first it was hard because I’d been single and independent for so long. I didn’t have to think about anyone but myself. Then,” She pauses and strokes my cheek before finishing, “you happened.”

  “It’s fine,” I reply. “You do a good job. I have to get going, though. Just let me think about Berklee some more.”

  “Okay.” She moves aside so I can walk out of the kitchen. I pluck my backpack by the stairs and slip out the front door.

  Before driving off down the street to pick up Emma, I check my phone for any missed calls or texts since I hadn’t responded to any last night.

  There’s one text from Emma around midnight that’s frighteningly written in all caps.

  Emma: OMG! LAW! THAT BITCH POSTED YOU ON YOUTUBE!!!!!

  “What?” I yelp, clicking the link in the text. Sure enough, there I am, like a terrified child about to throw up out of fear of singing live.

  There are over three hundred views already with fifty dislikes and ten likes. I scroll through the several comments. Some are sympathetic to my failed attempt.

  R213: Poor girl. I feel for her.

  Lindsay_H: Ohmagosh, I’m scared to even sing outside of my shower so I know exactly what she’s going through.

  My stomach churns seeing the harsh feedback from others.

  Dan_the_man: LMFAO! What a loser!

  Gloryholic: The mic should’ve electrocuted her ass.

  I don’t have the strength to read through the rest. It’s too hurtful. I call Emma right away.

  “Law, are you okay?” she says the moment she answers.

  “No,” I groan, on the verge of breaking down. “How could she do that? It’s embarrassing. Now everyone at school’s going to laugh at me.”

  “Okay, don’t go ballistic. Seville is a small place. I’m sure not a lot of people from around here have seen it,” she tries to assure me.

  I massage my forehead and collapse against the headrest. “Yeah, well, that girl probably showed her friends and it’s possibly being circulated at school as we speak. Oh God. They’re going to laugh at me the second I show up. I’m skipping today.”

  “Oh come on Law, that’s silly. It’s just a stupid video, you were obviously not ready to sing live for the first time,” she tries to cheer me up.

  “Thanks, but I don’t feel like being laughed at today.”

  “All right, I was going to ride with Drew, anyway. But what was Alex going on about you sounding great when you sing? How come you’ve never sang for me before?”

  I knew it was a matter of time before that came up. “Uh, to him I probably sound good. I mean, he has feelings for me. To the ordinary person, my voice is like a squeaky wheel that needs grease.”

  She laughs at my remark. “I want to judge for myself. Let’s hang out later when you’re over this, okay?”

  “Okay,” I sigh and hang up.

  Composing myself, I drive out to the cemetery and spend the morning at my parents’ graveside, writing and trying to forget the whole karaoke mishap.

  Then I head over to Wilson’s Farm, where I sit by the old water tank near the tracks.

  I write until I doze off. When I wake up and look at the time, it’s almost three o’clock. School will be out shortly, and Milo is going to meet me at Denny’s.

  Putting my songbook inside my backpack, I start for my car to take off the farm and drive over to the diner. My chest tightens with anticipation, nervous about meeting up with my crush as well as worried that he’s seen the embarrassing video on YouTube.

  I pray to God that he hasn’t.

  My anxiety settles when I receive a text from him.

  At Denny’s.

  I send one back.

  On my way.

  12.

  I enter Denny’s and look around for Milo, spotting him at a table in the back. He waves me over.

  “Hey.” He smiles as I sit down across from him. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” I reply, playing with my fingers under the table.

  “I didn’t see you at school today.”

  “Oh, were you looking for me?” I tease.

  He grins. “Sort of.”

  My tummy dances. I drop my eyes to the menu to hide my blushing cheeks.

  “So, what are you two having?” the waitress asks as she comes up to our table.

  “I’ll have a cheeseburger and coke with a small order of fries,” I tell her.

  Milo opts for the same. We hand our menus to her and fall into this awkward quietness as she ambles off.

  “Um,” he starts after a minute, “there’s this video going around school.”

  Frick! He’s seen it!

  I lower my eyes and bite down on my bottom lip, ashamed. “Yeah, that was… uh… that was horrible.”

  “It’s okay. I’m shy about singing in public, too. I feel bad that Carly posted it online, though. That’s low, even for her. Is that why I didn’t see you all day? Did you skip because of it?”

  I look up and meet his gaze, nodding.

  “Sorry. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, people were already forgetting about it by lunch.”

  “Yeah?”

  “There’ll be something else tomorrow. Don’t worry your pretty little head, okay?”

  He just called me pretty. Well, not exactly.

  “Thanks,” I say after catching my breath. I want to keep the conversation going so I ask, “Are you okay with giving up soccer in college?”

  He chews at the inside of his mouth before he answers. “It’s taking up too much of my time, anyway. I want to focus more on my academics.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a guy say that before, especially one who’s athletic.”

  His lips turn up into a sexy grin. “Yeah, I guess I’m not like other guys then.”

  “You’re definitely not,” I say, sounding too flirty. “I mean… uh...”

  “I know what you mean,” he replies, piercing me with those gorgeous hazel eyes.

  Our conversation is disrupted by the waitress as she settles our orders down on the table. “Anything else I can get you two?”

  “No thanks, I’m all set,” I tell her.

  “Thank you,” he says. Then we bite into our burgers at the same time, not saying much in between.

  We head out of the diner soon after we finish eating. M
ilo stops me before I walk to my car.

  “You want to go by the park for a bit? We could leave our cars here and walk, that’s if you want to.”

  “Sure,” I reply, falling in stride beside him as we make our way down the sidewalk.

  Reaching the park, we amble over to the playground and tread around the sandbox until we get to the swings.

  That stupid castle comes into view as we sit down. It’s the place where Milo and I got married as kids, with Emma as our witness. His face lights up and I know he’s remembering it, too.

  “Hey,” he says, gazing at me.

  “What’s up?”

  He nods at the castle and then flicks back to me, chuckling. “Do you remember—”

  “Yeah,” I cut him off, laughing in my embarrassment. “We got married up there.”

  He laughs. “I can’t believe we did that.”

  “Me neither. We were some silly kids, huh?”

  He stares at my face for a moment before saying, “It was kinda cool.”

  I hold my laugh and eye my feet in the sand while rocking back and forth in the swing.

  “I have to be really honest with you,” he says, drawing back my gaze.

  “Honest about what?” I prod.

  “At first, my friends would tease me about a girl fighting for me back when we were kids. And as we got older, I felt as if you didn’t want to be friends anymore, like you thought you didn’t fit in with the crowd I was friends with. I’m sorry, Rora, if I made you feel like we couldn’t be friends. The truth is, it’s bothered me all these years that we weren’t hanging out anymore.”

  “So why didn’t you talk to me sooner, if it’s been bothering you?”

  He looks down at the sand. “Because… I guess, seeing you with Emma and those guys…” he pauses, as if he’s trying to remember their names. “I thought you were okay, and that you probably hated me, anyway.”

  “I don’t. I never did,” I say.

  Milo peers up at me, that yummy grin resurfacing. “You’re not mad at all, not even about what happened on Monday?” he confirms.

  I shake my head. “It’s too hard for me to be mad at you.”

  Shit! Did I just say that out loud?

  He smiles, amazed. I bite on my bottom lip and turn away from his eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. My heart almost pops out of my chest as Milo reaches over and touches my hand resting on the chain.

  “I’m glad,” he says. “I really want us to be close again.”

  “You do?” I reply in a child-like tone.

  “Of course, Rora. I’ve missed being around you. I know graduation is close, but I really want us to catch up. Maybe we could this summer?”

  “Sure,” I answer fast. “That would be cool.”

  “Yeah, who knows what will happen after I go to New York and you go off to…” he trails as something occurs to him. “Oh, right, I have no idea where you’re going to college.”

  Milo eyes me hard, waiting for me to tell him. I swallow down the lump in my throat. How will he react when I say I’m not sure I’ll be going anywhere?

  “Actually, I, uh,” I suck in a deep breath before saying, “I’m going to Berklee College of Music in Boston.”

  It’s not really a lie when I haven’t decided yet, right?

  A smile stretches across his face. “That’s great. It’s a good school I hear, especially for someone as talented as you are.”

  I look away so he doesn’t see me blush. I was wrong to think he’d turn his nose down to me for choosing a career in music.

  “Yeah, I’m going to be a songwriter and guitarist,” I gloat.

  He laughs. “Awesome. What about singing?”

  I meet his gaze again, confused. “What about singing?”

  Does he suspect that I really have it in me?

  “Oh, I assumed you were a singer as well, after that karaoke thing and all, but I guess not.”

  The tension in my chest relaxes. “No, I don’t sing. That’s why it didn’t go down so well last night. I have no intention of singing in public.”

  An eyebrow shoots up. “Wow, are you that afraid?”

  “I am, actually. I don’t think I’m very good at singing.”

  He stands up. “Who says? Let’s hear it then.”

  I look up at him, smiling. I could do it. Sing for him right here in this playground full of sweet memories. But I don’t want to. I can’t. I don’t have the confidence.

  “You’ll laugh at me,” I tell him, wobbling my head.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Sticking his hands inside his pockets, he shifts his weight to one leg, waiting impatiently.

  “C’mon, Aurora,” he urges. “I’m really curious now. If your friends wanted you to perform at the barn, then they must know something no one else does. Sing for me.”

  “I can’t.” I even gesture with my hand to emphasize how serious I am.

  His smile falters. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches it out to me. “Okay. When you’re ready, let me know.”

  Nervously, I take his hand. The warmth of his calloused palm sends tingles down my spine as he helps me off the swing. His grip is strong from working out and playing sports. I begin to wonder what it’d feel like having his hands all over my body.

  “What do you say?”

  “Hmm… what?” I snap out of my dirty thoughts as he releases my hand. Then I realize I missed his previous question. “Sorry, what did you ask me?”

  He laughs. “You zoned out again, huh? I was asking if you’d like to catch a movie this weekend.”

  “Oh, um, we’re performing at a party tomorrow night but definitely Saturday,” I tell him, nearly out of breath.

  “Cool.” He slants and motions for us to walk back to our cars at Denny’s.

  I smile from ear to ear, thinking of the progress we’re making. This was what I wanted, to spend time with the guy I’ve had a crush on for so long, and for him to see that I’m worthy of his time.

  “I’ll text you later,” he says as we get back to the parking lot and I hop in my car.

  I nod and turn the key. He watches as I leave before going over to his car.

  The drive back to my house I ponder whether or not I could experience a romance with Milo, even if we only have a few months.

  13.

  “Hey,” Aunt Leah calls out to me when I enter the front door. “Come here.”

  I drop my backpack by the stairs and walk over to the living room, sitting down beside her on the lagoon couch. I place one of the floral-patterned pillows on my lap.

  “How was school today?” she asks, sounding odd.

  “Good,” I lie. “How was your day?”

  “Not bad. I helped deliver twins. That was interesting. It was my first time.”

  “Cool.”

  Blue lights from the TV engulf the room as the show she’s watching comes back on. It’s been a long time since I tuned in to American Idol.

  “You know what else is interesting?”

  Uh-oh.

  “What?” I ask, keeping my gaze on the TV.

  “Getting a call at the hospital saying you missed your classes today without notifying the school.”

  “Huh,” I breathe out.

  “Isn’t that strange? I remember you left for school this morning. Didn’t you?”

  I go mum.

  Aunt Leah nudges my arm. “Explain yourself.”

  I glance over at her. “Okay, a girl from school, Carly something, she recorded me making a fool of myself at karaoke last night at the barn and posted it on YouTube. Everyone’s seen the video. I just couldn’t go to school today and face all the scrutiny.”

  “What exactly happened at this karaoke?” she presses.

  “It’s all Alex’s fault. He made everyone think I could sing, and I ended up embarrassing myself.”

  “Oh Rora. So that’s why he sounded so down in the gutter when I spoke to him.”

  I squint at her. “You spoke to him?”

/>   “Well yeah. I called to find out if you were okay and if he knew why you weren’t in school today. You should call him, by the way. He seemed worried. Is there something going on with you two?”

  “No,” I answer, my voice low. “I’ll call him later.”

  She brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Okay, but you have to go to school tomorrow. You can’t let immature people get to you like that.”

  “I won’t,” I tell her.

  “And what about Berklee?” she goes on.

  “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll call them in the morning and confirm that I’ll be attending this fall.”

  Aunt Leah inclines her head to one side and frowns. “It’s not about making me happy, Rora. I want you to be happy. I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. So,” she sighs, “if you don’t want to go, then don’t. I won’t push you.”

  She never does.

  “Thank you. I think I will, though. You’re right; Mom and Dad would want me to.”

  Her frown curves into a pleased smile. “They would.”

  Rising from the couch, I start to head out of the living room. “I’m going to bed early, okay?”

  “Alex says you’re a great singer,” she surprises me.

  I stop in my tracks. “Did he?”

  “Yeah. I’m kind of jealous that he got to hear you and I haven’t. Maybe you could sing something for me? I’d like to—”

  “I’m tired,” I cut her off, looking at her sideways. “Some other time.”

  “Okay.”

  Disappointed, she watches as I turn and walk away, ascending the stairs after picking up my backpack.

  The second I reach my room I take out my songbook and plop down on the bed. I tap the pencil on a blank page, swallowing hard as the nasty comments from YouTube float around in my head.

  Not a single melody comes to me. Exasperated, I push the book aside and press my eyes shut, trying to relax my mind. My phone buzzes.

  I reach over to the side table and look at the screen. A smile makes its way to my face as I see who it’s from.

  Milo: Hey.