The Amabile girls sing some hyper-hard, atonal modern pieces. I would so love to do that. I’ve only ever seen one other choir do those—and it was crap compared to the AYS. I wish we could sing pieces like that. Maybe in college I can.
I haven’t decided on a major, but it’s going to be music something. I don’t have the bucks for an elite school. I’ll have to stay in state, go public. If Derek stays in London, maybe I better stick with Ann Arbor and go to the University of Michigan. But that would be so far from him. There’s a big university in London. Maybe I could go there. We could start together next year. Major in music together. It seems weird he wanted to be a doctor, but he’s composing now. That’s a gift he can’t waste. Somebody else can cure me.
Friday is twice as long as Wednesday and Thursday combined. Scott is twice as grumpy. I need to move my locker. When the final bell buzzes, I race out of school and speed home.
Derek’s there.
Waiting in my driveway.
Just like he said he would be.
I can’t get out of the car fast enough. He opens my door, gives me a hand. I can’t kiss him here—too like Scott and prom night.
I step all the way out of the car and push the door closed with my butt, lean up against it. Derek comes at me hard, pins me there with his body, greets me with his lips. We make out for about ten minutes, then he pulls away. “Hi.” He drills me with his chocolate-brown eyes and plays with a piece of my frizzed-out hair that he said was hot.
“I missed you.” He’s turned me into a puddle again. I’m sloshing in the driveway.
“We need to talk.”
“Plan B?”
“Ready to execute.”
“Should I pack a bag? I’ve got my bankbook in my purse.”
“That’s Plan A.”
“Right.” I lead him into the house. We both eye the stairs going up to my room. “We can talk in my room if you want.” I cleaned it up—just in case. I want to be ready when it’s right.
He shakes his head and tugs me in the direction of the family room. He sits on the loveseat and makes me take the couch. “If you’re any closer, we won’t talk much.”
I lift my eyebrows.
He looks at his watch, then me, alone in the middle of the couch.
I run my hands over the leather cushions. “We’ve never made out lying down.” I want him to lie beside me, feel his weight on me, even if it’s just kissing.
“First, you must agree to Plan B.”
“Right. I’m sorry. You are distracting.”
He leans forward, rests his arms on his knees, and clasps his hands together. “I spoke with my director, and she talked to the AYS conductors. They want you. You’re in.”
“The AYS?” I shake my head, stunned. “What are you talking about?”
“The Amabile girls’ directors listened to your rendition of ‘Take Me Home.’ Auditions were last spring, but they’ll make an exception for you.”
“How does this get us together?”
“They practice Tuesdays. We can hang out before and after. On Friday nights we have chamber, the best girls and guys. You and me sitting together and singing. We can go out after. Every Friday like clockwork. We’ll be together at festivals and extra practices.”
I tense up. “Why can’t we just hang out on the weekends?”
He leans back on the couch and stares at the blank television. “My weekends are pretty full. After our Choral Olympics win, everyone wants us. It’s going to be a head rush. I want you there for as much as possible.”
I wrap my arms around my torso. “Can’t I just be a groupie in the crowd?”
“No. I want you part of it. Don’t you want to sing with me again?”
I close my eyes and remember those amazing impromptu moments with him on the stage. The taste of the mike. The magic of the crowd screaming our names. The elixir of his lips on mine. Who wouldn’t want more of that? I open my eyes and nod. “I do want to sing with you.”
“My music.”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll do it together.”
“Sure.” I nod my head.
He’s nodding along with me. “And you’ll get to sing with the AYS. We’re touring together next summer. Think what that would be like.”
Touring together. An international flight together. Days and days. It sounds so good. But . . . “Me? Singing with the AYS?” I can’t get my head around that one.
Derek smiles and keeps me nodding.
“But my choir practices Tuesdays. I can’t—”
“Do both.”
“I have to leave my choir?” I feel guilty for being impatient with them last night. Feeling like I was too good. Terri planned our entire season around me. I’ve got four pieces with solos this year. Not just one.
“They aren’t good enough for you. You owe it to your talent to sing in the best choir you can.”
“The AYS are the premier choir in the world.”
He leans forward and clasps his hands in front of him, so earnest, so handsome, so devastating. “And they want you.”
I turn my back on him. I can’t decide if I keep looking at him. “I’m going to have to think about it. The drive—”
“We’re way closer to Port than Ann Arbor is.”
“What’s it like in the winter? You guys are on the snowbelt side of the lake.”
“Brand new highway. Always plowed. I don’t want you driving through Detroit anymore.”
The protective note in his voice doesn’t make me angry like it should. It makes me want to go over to the couch and tell him I’ll do anything he wants. Then I remember Bliss. He wants me to leave them. “Terri will die. I’m her only star. She invested in a lot of great stuff for me to sing.”
“She’ll get over it. She should be happy for you.”
I hate that his answers are all so true. “The AYS are going to hate me.”
“Certainly not.”
“Don’t be stupid. First, I steal you. Then I barge into their choir and steal the solo spot.”
“I didn’t say they were giving you the solos. Those you’ll have to earn on your own. They have about six soloists. The competition will be tough but good for you.”
“So I’m going to sit by your ex every Tuesday? She’ll let me have that spot beside you in chamber?”
“She’ll like you as much as I do. They all will. I’ll tell them they have to.”
I turn around and pull a face at him. “You have that kind of power over an entire choir of mega-talented women?”
“Of course.” He manages not to smirk.
“You’re full of it.”
He sits up and gets all innocent looking. “They want me to be happy. When they see how happy I am with you, they’ll welcome you like a long-lost sister.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do this. I can’t abandon my choir.”
He stands up. “Get something to eat. Chamber practice starts in an hour and a half and you’re coming with me.”
“Tonight?” I don’t follow his lead. “Now?”
“Yes.” He nods.
I’m glued to the couch. “No.”
“I already told them you would. Kind of an informal tryout.”
“Great.” I lean back on the couch and stare up at him, finally starting to get steamed. “No pressure there.”
“Pressure is a good thing. It makes you stretch.”
“I’m tall enough already, thank you.”
“Three more inches and you’d really be sexy.”
Three more inches? I’d be a skyscraper. “Let’s stay around here tonight. Go to a movie. Watch TV. I cleaned my room.”
He shakes his head. “I have to go to practice. And I promised you’d be there.”
“I wish you would have discussed this with me first.”
“I didn’t think it would be an issue. I thought you’d be falling all over me with gratitude.” He comes over and sits beside me on the couch. “Please, Beth.” He cups my face in his hands and kisses me long, slow. “I want to be with you.” He kisses me again. “This is the best way.” He pulls me close against his chest. “Come sing with me.”