Take a Bow Page 41
“Hey, Em, listen, I’m a jerk, and I need to tell you about what happened.”
She nods. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain.”
Oh, wow. I didn’t …
I give her a huge hug. “Oh, man, if I haven’t told you lately how awesome you are, you are awesome! Our audition time tomorrow is one fifteen.”
“Sophie …” She looks at me with confidence, no biting of the lip, nothing. This can’t be good. “You’ve been one of my closest friends since I was eight. And I’ve learned a lot about friendship lately and I know that friends should always be there for each other. Friends also love one another unconditionally …”
I feel such relief. I haven’t lost her, after all.
“… and understand when a friend has to make a difficult decision. I’ve never had to test a friendship, never had a reason to question one before …”
Uh-oh.
“… but I’m not going to be accompanying you tomorrow. I can’t stop you from using my song, but I won’t be providing you with the accompanying music. If you are truly my friend, you’ll sing another song … and still want to talk to me.”
This is a test. I know she’s testing me.
“Of course, Emme. I understand. I really wish you’d let me tell you my side of the story, but you’re right. True friends are unconditional and I love you regardless of whether you’re by my side tomorrow.”
I give her a hug. She just stands there as I wrap my arms around her.
“Um, okay,” I say. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Bye!”
I walk away from her and my legs start shaking. What am I going to do tomorrow if she doesn’t come through for me? I guess I could have Amanda play … the song we did at the beginning of the year. But the new one is so much better.
This is a disaster.
No, I know this is a game she’s playing with me.
Fine, I’ll play her game.
All day. All freakin’ day I’m waiting to hear from Emme. For her to tell me that I’ve passed her stupid test. Every time I see her in between classes, I wave at her and smile. I decide to hunt her down after school.
“Oh, hey, guys!” I try to pretend that I hadn’t been walking in circles for twenty minutes as I wait for Emme to appear at her locker. Of course her guard dog is right next to her.
“Hi, Sophie.” While she greets me, it doesn’t have the same kindness as it usually does. She pulls out her books and studies them. Ethan leans against the locker and smiles at me.
“Um, I saw your mom yesterday and she mentioned that you’re staying in the city for the week?”
She nods. “Yep, have lots to do.”
“Oh, okay. Um …”
I can’t take this anymore. If she doesn’t accompany me tomorrow, I won’t get in the showcase. If I don’t get in the showcase, talent scouts won’t discover me. If the talent scouts don’t discover me, I won’t get a record contract. No record, no Grammy. This is it. Doesn’t she see she is ruining my last chance? Without this I have nothing. I’m nothing.
Emme was the only part of my Plan that was working. I can’t have this fall apart, too.
“Emme, please, please …” The tears spilling out are real. I need this. It kills me that I need her to do it, but I do. “You know I can’t do this without you. You know it, why won’t you help me? Why would you abandon me when I need you the most?”
Emme shuts her locker. “Ethan, can you give us a few minutes?”
Ethan opens his mouth, but thinks better of it and closes it. Thank God.
When it’s just the two of us, Emme launches in. “I’ve been wondering something, Sophie. Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t — how could you …”
“No, I’ve been thinking about it. What you said to Amanda, how you’ve acted toward me for the last couple of years. You ignored me the entire summer, but once a mention of an audition comes up, we’re suddenly best friends again. You’ve never once come to any of the band’s gigs, yet I go to every performance of yours, even when you’re in the chorus. You know what I think? You don’t like me getting attention. I even think about when we were twelve and you convinced me to dye my hair brown. It hit me last night. You don’t like that I have hair that makes people look at me and not you.”
She ruffles her bright red hair. I hate that hair.
“Not one time have you ever encouraged me to do something that doesn’t somehow affect you. What kind of friend is that?”
I’ve had enough. I get in her face. “What kind of friend abandons someone at the most important time of their life? What kind of person does that make you?”
She backs away from me. “I’m putting myself first. I guess that makes me just like you.”
She walks away and leaves me in the hallway. Alone. I’m all alone.
I want to scream. But I can’t. I need my voice for tomorrow. I want to scream at Emme, at the world, but mostly, right now I want to yell at Amanda.
She fumbles over a few chords.
I try to keep my voice even. “That’s not how it goes.” I sing a few more lines for her and she shakes her head.
“I can’t figure out an accompany part just from your vocals.”
“Emme could.”
Amanda stands up at the mention of her name. “Yeah, well, then get her to do it. It’s almost midnight, and we need to go back to the song from the first day of school. She wrote out that part. Or we can do something else — Sarah Moffitt isn’t doing an original song. She’ll do some Broadway number. Or we can do one of my songs.”