Authors: Nora Flite
Nodding,
I cleared my throat and cracked my knuckles. “Right. Okay. Then
let's become stars already.”
Bethany
grinned, making my blood warm.
We'd
been coming after school everyday since I'd first convinced her to
enter the show with me. In that time, her piano playing had blossomed
from fitting, to stunning. Her talent was without question, but
Bethany had more going for her.
She
worked so hard at everything she set her mind to. Beside her, I paled
in comparison. In the moment, though, it hardly mattered.
I
didn't care at all.
She
could outshine me all she wanted if it meant she'd give me a single
chance with her.
I'd
planned how I would ask her out, it had been what I'd been working on
instead of practicing for the show. All this time together, I sensed
her walls were vanishing. Bethany was letting me into her world.
I
wouldn't waste that opportunity.
****
That
night came far faster than time should have allowed. I was both ready
to get the show over with, and hoping the clock would slow down
somehow.
The
auditorium was packed, the talent show was the last big event before
the end of the school year. It gave people one last thing to look
forward to.
It's
giving me the chance to start something real.
“
Hey,”
Bethany said, seeing me as I rounded the corner behind the stage. Her
eyes flicked down, baffled by the flourish of red roses I pulled out
from behind me. “Oh!” She cried, covering her mouth. “Are
those for me?”
“
Of
course,” I smiled, glad she seemed a little dazed. I was
fighting off my own shock at seeing her looking so lovely.
She'd
worn a long dress, flowing like ivory water. It was cut high; modest,
convincing me her parents had gotten it for her. Her hair had been
wound upwards in an elaborate braid.
Bethany
was starkly beautiful.
Letting
her take the flowers, I adjusted the front of my suit, hoping I
looked anywhere near as sharp as I wanted. Feeling drab beside
Bethany was not going to do me any favors.
“
You
look really nice, too,” she said carefully, cheeks tinging with
pink.
“
Thanks,”
I said, helplessly swelling with delight. “So, you nervous?”
“
No,”
she scoffed, poking at the floor with her toe. “Maybe a
little.”
“
Don't
be,” I said, wishing I had the courage to reach out and lift
her chin. I settled for forcing myself to step closer. The scent of
her perfume filled my head. “You're amazing, you'll do great.”
Bethany
bit her lip, looking from me, to the side, then back again. “Thank
you. You'll do great, too, I'm sure.”
“
Well,”
I said smoothly, glad she couldn't see how sweaty my palms were, “of
course I will. I'm a natural.”
This
made her giggle, which set my chest thrumming. “Here,” I
said, lifting the other item I'd brought, my fingers trembling.
“These are the music sheets and lyrics, I printed them out on
nicer paper.”
Please
don't look inside yet,
I
willed her mentally, terrified as she took the folder from me. To my
relief, she just smiled, tucking it under her arm.
“
Thanks.
We should be called soon. You sure you're ready?”
“
Yeah,”
I said, and truly, I felt I actually was.
Whatever
happens now, she'll find my note at the end of the music sheet. I
can't stop this now.
“I'm
definitely ready to do this.”
As
if summoned to break our moment, eyes fixed together, gleaming with
nervous energy, the stage hand came around calling our names.
“Bethany Sommer, Deacon Day! You're on!”
Stepping
back, our little bubble broken, I gave a tiny bow to her. “Alright,
let's go show them what we've got.”
Her
nod was almost invisible. On elegant steps, she walked towards the
opening in the curtains, both of us bracing for what was about to hit
us.
The
applause was loud, the lights melting me; my skin became even
slicker. I'd performed before, so had Bethany, but this was something
else. The whole room was full of excited teens and parents cheering
in their seats.
They
don't even care who we are, they're just excited for a show.
I
knew Bethany was relatively popular, but it was clear she didn't
really realize, or care for, the attention.
Bethany
just wanted to win.
She
got to the grand piano and settled in, placing the music folder in
front of her. Though I knew there'd be nothing special on the first
page, my heart still jumped when she opened it.
Her
eyes found me, watched me lift the mic from the main stand. She had
one set up as well, elevated just out of the way so it would catch
the music she made, and her voice.
Straightening
up, I faced the crowd, closing my eyes. The breath I took was long,
deep; it filled the entirety of my belly.
Now,
I
thought, as the room went silent,
now,
let this begin.
A
well oiled machine, Bethany read my stance, knew I was prepared.
The
first low, cutting edge of the piano keys hit the air. I bathed in
the darkness of my lids, squeezing the mic handle to force myself to
be patient. She played the music I had transcribed, shared it with a
room that could not have predicted it.
I'd
counted on some people knowing the song, especially after talking to
Nicholas.
Popular
music taken in a different direction. This is what will make them
remember us.
It
wasn't until I started to sing that the students recognized the song.
“
Cool
sorrow,” I breathed, baritone, stretching into the ether. “Fall
away, fall away...”
The
room gasped, some clapping or squeaking excitedly. I wondered if
Bethany understood why; I hoped she thought it was simply our
performance, not us appealing to fans.
“
Crashing
like a wave,” I swooned, “sinking deep into the night. I
am yours, but always just outside of reach...”
“
Clear
as ice”, Bethany joined in, mingling with my words for the
chorus. “Drumming, crashing, losing you everywhere!”
Yes,
I
thought excitedly, brimming with energy, filling with glee. Opening
my eyes, I tried to see the crowd; the lights glaring, blocking most
of them out. Their cheers, the vibrations of their existence pulled
at something so low in my core.
“
Cool
sorrow,” I sang, moving towards the piano, catching the flushed
face of Bethany. She was pure focus, not even looking at me as she
played. Those blue orbs were stuck on the music sheets. My pulse
raced, far faster than our somber tune.
She's
going to see it soon, oh god. She's going to know what I really want.
When
she looked up, singing with me again, I glimpsed a flicker of
something I hadn't seen before. The attention of someone, someone who
was finally, actually seeing me.
Does
she like me, too?
I
had been counting on wooing her, but perhaps... perhaps it had been
unneeded effort.
Bethany
smiled, teeth pure white while she let the music slide down her
tongue.
“
Cool
sorrow,” we sang, merging together, high pitch versus low.
“Fall away... fall away...”
The
song ended, the crowd exploded.
She
was laughing, delighted, until she looked at the music sheet. Pasted
to the very last page was my note, clear as day.
This
is it, this is the moment.
Gripping
the folder, she shut it briskly. With her jaw tight, Bethany stood,
moving towards me. A fear unlike any other grew in me, so sharp it
made me worry I'd faint. I watched her stand beside me. She was only
a foot away, but she felt so much further.
Together,
we bowed to the clapping. I was grateful neither of us could have
attempted to speak over all the noise.
I
was afraid Bethany would have had nothing but silence for me, if
given the choice.
“
Give
it up for Bethany Sommer and Deacon Day!” The announcer
declared, raising more cheers. I looked up, thought I saw my parents
in the crowd, recording everything. It was enough of a second or two
that I almost missed Bethany turning on her heel, stomping towards
the stage exit.
Oh
no, oh no, I made her angry!
Awash
with shame, I made myself follow her, the sounds of our successful
show fading in my ears. “Bethany!” I shouted, spotting
her as she hurried for the school doors. “Bethany, wait!”
The
night air was crisp, I saw my breath as I followed her into the quiet
parking lot. In the light of the tall lamps, her hair looked ghostly.
“Bethany, please, I—”
Whirling,
her dress a blur, she cut me off with a sharp shout. “What is
this? What is this supposed to mean?”
“
I—what?”
I stuttered, unsure what she was talking about.
The
folder was thrown at me; I caught it, fumbling to not lose the sheets
of paper. “What is that note?” She asked, shoulders
hunched, small hands crunched into threatening balls at her sides.
“
It's...
this is just my way of...” Stunned by her confrontation, I
looked in the folder, tearing the tiny square of paper out.
“
Of
what?” She demanded.
“
Of
asking you out,” I finished, eyes wide, unsure saucers of
greenish-gold. “Wasn't that obvious?”
Glaring
at me under hooded brows, she breathed in deeply. The air steamed as
she spoke. “Read it to me.”
“
But—”
“
Read
it to me!
”
Shocked
by her reaction, I looked at the note, then back to her accusing
face. I didn't need to read the words off the paper; I'd memorized
them in my painstaking strife over writing them down in the first
place. “Bethany... I need you to know how special you are to
me. I've been doing my best to get close to you, because I want you
to go out with me. It'd mean everything to me if you gave me a
chance...” My cheeks were boiling in humiliation.