It was only our third practice and things seemed to be progressing nicely between Eva and Evan. They’d walked to the music room together every time so far. Still, she kept staring at Edgar.
“Who would like to try out for a solo?” Ms. Clare asked. Harmony Clare was the only one to raise her hand. Ms. Clare frowned, but nodded. “Take your place at the microphone, Harmony. And this time, try to stay in tune.”
We didn’t have any stand-out soloists, but Harmony, who was Ms. Clare’s daughter, had already tried out several times. Unfortunately, her name didn’t match her singing skills.
I crossed my fingers that her singing had improved, but when she tried and failed to hit the high notes, it was clear she hadn’t.
Wolfgang Paxton let out a howl of laughter, but he stopped abruptly when Ms. Clare looked his way.
I tried to hide my winces, but Wolfie didn’t even bother hiding his contempt. Why was he in show choir, anyway?
I figured it out when I spotted his girlfriend, Claudia Dracul, standing next to him.
“Why don’t we ask the Little Mermaid to try out for a solo?” a guy’s voice called out. I was the only redhead in choir, so I knew he was talking about me. I turned to see who was speaking. It was Tim, my stocky stalker from the first day.
He smirked at me and I smirked back. “Actually, Tim, Ariel gives up her voice for love,” Eva said. “So your logic, as usual, is faulty.”
How did she know him? I shot her a puzzled glance and she mouthed, “HACC,” back at me. I couldn’t figure out what she meant until I remembered what HACC stood for, Horror and Cinema Club. I was very glad that Eva hadn’t convinced me to sign up for that club, too. Seeing Tim once a week was more than enough for me.
Ms. Clare obviously planned to remedy the lack of talent in our show choir because when Dominic and Raven walked into the choir room, she was all smiles.
“Sorry we’re late,” Dominic said.
Eva nudged me in the ribs. “Wonder why he’s suddenly so interested in show choir?” she said in a whisper.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe because he’s a singer.”
“Class, class, settle down,” Ms. Clare said, even though no one was talking. “I am so pleased to announce that Dominic and Raven Gray will be joining the chorus. Dominic will be trying out for a solo.”
“Do you know the words to ‘I’m an Ordinary Man’?” she asked him.
He nodded and she sat at the piano and began to play the song from
My Fair Lady,
which we’d been practicing since school had begun.
Dominic started to sing the words, but then his face changed. His jaw went slack and I knew right away that he was not going to be singing the song she had requested.
Instead, the words to “Killer Queen” came out of his mouth. The other kids started laughing, probably thinking that he was clowning around for their amusement, but I knew the truth. His eyes rolled back.
Ms. Clare stopped playing and sat there staring at him. She frowned deeply and a
You’re going to the principal’s office
expression appeared on her face. She was an old-school choir director and didn’t like any music that was created after 1970.
“Do something,” Raven hissed.
I hated calling attention to myself, but I couldn’t let Dominic crash and burn. “Follow my lead,” I said. I went to the microphone and started to sing along with him. After an agonizingly long verse, Raven joined in and the three of us sang the rest of the song a cappella.
When we finished, there was a long silence, and then the room burst into applause.
“What a wonderful . . . performance,” Ms. Clare said lamely.
“We thought maybe we could do something different this year,” I said.
“I’ll take it under consideration,” she said. But I knew she wouldn’t. We’d be singing the same stale stuff all year, but I didn’t care, as long as Dominic was okay.
Ms. Clare’s eyes began to gleam. “Maybe we will find a song suitable for a duet.”
“I want to try out for the duet,” Janie Clark said.
“Me, too,” another voice said.
“Who else would like to try out for the duet?” Ms. Clare asked.
Several hands were raised. All of them belonged to girls.
“Let’s take a five-minute break,” Ms. Clare said. “And then we’ll get back to practice.”
Raven, Dominic, and I took advantage of the break for an emergency huddle.
Dominic gave my hand a grateful squeeze. “Thanks,” he said in a low voice. “You saved me back there.”
“What are we going to do if it happens again?” Raven asked in a whisper.
“It won’t,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“Maybe I should just quit,” Dominic said.
Ms. Clare, who had been hovering nearby, overheard him. “No, no,” she said. “I am honored to have such talent in my little choir room, no matter what songs you sing.”
I had an idea and I hoped it would work, at least enough to get her off his back. “Dom is a true artist,” I said theatrically. I sounded pompous even to my own ears. “He isn’t able to conform to a strict song list. He needs freedom to sing the songs his muse demands.”
“And he shall have it!” Ms. Clare said. Then in a low voice, she added, “Please don’t quit the choir. We need your voice.”
Dominic looked like he was going to burst into laughter at my over-the-top speech, but managed to spit out, “I’ll stay.”
After choir practice, he was swept away by a group of his fans, and Eva and Evan came over to join me.
“Thanks for sticking up for me with Tim,” I said to her. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that Little Mermaid reference?”
“Tim’s a jerk,” Eva said promptly. “He doesn’t even like Vincent Price movies—can you believe it?”
“You like Vincent Price?” Evan said. “Me, too!”
They started talking the merits of
The House of Usher
versus
The Pit and the Pendulum
and I zoned out for a few minutes.
“I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for practice,” Evan said. “But I’ll call you later.”
After he left, I said, “That sounds promising.”
“He’s great,” Eva said. “But Edgar is cuter.” I groaned inwardly at that, but didn’t say anything. We talked—or, I should say,
she
talked—about Edgar’s many wonderful qualities until we parted ways at the bus stop. It was nice to see Eva so happy, even though I thought Edgar was a creep.
It was standing room only at the next chorus practice. I spotted Bethany and Tiffany and a bunch of other junior girls. There were even a few senior girls there, most of whom couldn’t even carry a tune. Dominic and I walked in together, but he was immediately surrounded, while I was shoved aside.
There were definitely negatives to crushing on a rock star.
Raven came to join me in the corner. “They’re like a pack of wild beasts fighting over a juicy T-bone.”
“Has it always been like this?” I asked. “The fans, I mean.”
“Not at all,” she said. “Before he was in the band, he was just kind of quiet. You’re the first girl he’s ever been interested in. I was surprised about that.”
Before I had a chance to ask her what she meant by that, Ms. Clare came in and started the class.
There was a waiting list for trying out for the duets. Bethany and Tiffany nearly came to blows when they were passing around the sign-up sheet. But for the rest of chorus practice, I thought about what Raven had said, wondering what she had meant. Why was it surprising that Dominic would be interested in me?
Then I spotted him leaving the music room with Selena, and realized it wasn’t me he was interested in.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Friday night, Dominic
called me and asked me to meet him at a sound check at the Black Opal.
“I don’t think so, Dominic,” I told him. “I’m really not into game playing.”
“I’m
not
playing games,” he said. “I need to talk to you about what’s happening to me. There’s something wrong, Jessica, I just know it.”
“I guess. I already told Flo I’d meet her there later, anyway.”
When I arrived, the rest of the band wasn’t there yet. There was one lonely server filling the napkin holders.
Dominic and I sat at one of the tables and waited for the others to show up.
“Do you guys want something to drink?” the server asked. She smiled at Dominic when she said it.
“A couple of Cokes would be great,” he replied.
When she brought back our drinks, I pointed to the Warhol-style painting I’d noticed before. “Who is that?”
She set our frosted glasses on the table. “That’s the owner,” she said. “You’ve never seen her in here? Or the old place?”
“No, I’ve never seen her,” I replied, as the server walked away.
“You wanted to talk to me about something?” I prompted Dominic.
“I want you to observe me the next time I’m hanging out with Selena.”
“What? No way.”
“I know it’s asking a lot, but I need your help.”
“Dominic, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I protested. “Can’t Raven do it?”
“She’s mad at me right now.”
“Raven? I didn’t think she ever got mad,” I said.
“She’s mad all right,” he told me.
“About what?”
“She thinks I’m making excuses about Selena to you,” he said. “But I’m not. Something’s not right. I feel woozy when I’m with her. And not in a good way.”
“‘Woozy’?”
“Lightheaded, kind of sick to my stomach,” he replied.
Could Selena be the one responsible for his symptoms? Or was Dominic uncomfortable with his own feelings?
The door opened and a short woman with dark hair and purple highlights walked through it. She carried a guitar case.
She marched right over to our table. “You the lead singer of Side Effects May Vary?” she asked Dominic.
“Yes, m’am, I am,” he said.
“Then why aren’t you singing?” she said. “Isn’t there a sound check scheduled for today?”
“Yes, there is,” Dominic said. “But the rest of the band is running late.”
She seemed to realize she’d been a little abrupt. “I’m Teddie Myles,” she said. “I own this place.”
I recognized her as the woman in the portrait I had asked about earlier.
“I’ll play my guitar while you sing.” She opened the case and as she got out her guitar, I noticed her tattoo. It was unusual, a peace sign morphing into a mushroom cloud. She caught me staring.
“I got this in 1964,” she said. “Protesting nuclear testing.”
“I like it,” I said.
Her gaze focused on my bicep. “I like yours, too.”
I squirmed and grabbed my hoodie, to cover up my arm.
As she headed for the stage, she added, “You’re too young for a tattoo.”
I had a tattoo, but it wasn’t like I’d picked it out or anything. I was growing fond of my whirlwind, but I wasn’t ready to show it to the world.
Dominic finished his soda, then went to the stage. He conferred with Teddie briefly and began singing something I’d never heard before. Teddie sang backup in a raspy, timeworn voice that made me think of long lonely road trips.
But I was riveted by Dominic’s performance. He sang this song with his eyes closed, maybe with the hope of preventing any oracular revelations. But the intensity and passion in his voice sent shivers down my spine.
My reverie was interrupted when the rest of the band entered the club—Flo, too, holding hands with her boyfriend. Dominic stopped in the middle of the chorus. “Looks like everyone is here,” he said.
Teddie packed up her guitar and headed back to where I sat. “He’s got something special, doesn’t he?” she commented.
“Yes, he certainly does,” I replied.
She handed me a small white card with her name and number printed on it. “I’ve got to head out,” she said. “But, Jessica, if you ever need anything, give me a call.”
“Thanks, I will.” How did she know my name? I was almost certain I hadn’t introduced myself.
After Teddie left, Dominic sat back down while the rest of the band set up their instruments. “I can’t believe it! I just sang with Teddie Myles,” he gushed.
“She seems nice,” I said cautiously. I was clearly missing something.
“Nice? The legendary Teddie Myles is more than nice,” he replied. “She’s—she’s . . .”
“Legendary?”
“You mean you don’t know who Teddie Myles is?” Selena had come into the club without my even noticing. She seemed to be spending a lot of time hanging around.
“And I suppose you do?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. “Dominic told me all about it the other night.”
The other night? I shot him a sharp glance, but he only smiled blandly at her. “Selena was helping me channel my powers,” he said. “Remember?”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?” I asked. Despite her know-it-all attitude, I noticed she waited for Dominic to fill me in.
“Teddie Myles is a legend,” Dominic said. “She was the lead singer in Temptation and then she had this amazing solo career.”
“Dominic, when you’re done chatting with your groupies, would you care to join us onstage?” Jeff Cool said sarcastically.
Groupies?
“Jessica and Selena aren’t groupies, Jeff,” Dominic snapped. “I expect you to show my friends respect.”
“We’d better let you rehearse,” I said.
“Hang on a sec, Jessica,” Dominic said. “Selena, thanks for everything.”
He’d made it clear—politely, of course—that he wanted Selena to leave, but she didn’t budge.
“Dominic, pay attention to me,” Selena said. Her voice sounded like a whiny five-year-old’s. Then she picked up his hand and repeated her words. But when she said it the second time, she sounded loud and full of power.
Jeff grumbled some more about high-maintenance singers, but Dominic ignored him.
Flo gave me a look.
I didn’t want to hang around for rehearsal any longer. I had tried to ignore Jeff’s groupie comment, but it stung. Is that how everyone saw me? Just some girl who hung all over Dominic because he was in a band?
To make matters worse, Selena still had Dominic’s hand and he was all gooey-eyed over her.
“Don’t let Jeff bother you,” Flo said. “He’s a misogynist.”
“I have more important things to worry about,” I said with false bravado. But it was true. Things were murky indeed, and I couldn’t seem to figure out how to clear them up.