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Authors: Elizabeth Eulberg

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BOOK: Take a Bow
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E
xams are over, second semester auditions finished.

There’s only one thing left before we’re freed for winter break.

The entire senior class is in the auditorium awaiting our fates.

I wish we could just look at a list, but leave it to Dr. Pafford to want to create even more drama.

He steps to the podium and starts going over the lineup for the Senior Showcase. All of the usual suspects are named — Trevor Parsons, Zachary David, Sarah Moffitt — and I hold my breath. I’m not worried about the band making it, but I want Emme to get in so bad. Her song is better than anything I’ve ever written.

I’d hate to think what not getting in would do for her confidence, especially before her audition for Juilliard.

I’m staring down Dr. Pafford, trying to will him to say Emme’s name.

My hands are balled up in fists. I’m so tense, I nearly jump when Emme touches my hand.

She whispers in my ear. “It’s going to be fine, Ethan. Really, I’m going to be okay no matter what.” I get goose bumps from her breath on my neck.

Dr. Pafford clears his throat. “This leaves us with one spot left.”

Only one spot? He hasn’t mentioned either the band, or Emme, or Sophie.

I will lose all faith in humanity if Sophie is chosen over Emme.

The entire room is silent. Anytime we’ve had a featured performance, it has always gone to Carter — no questions asked. And now with him out of the running, that spot is up for anybody. Truthfully, I sort of assumed the band would get it. I think everybody does.

I grab Emme’s hand. I know how much being in the showcase would mean to Jack and Ben, but I want her in it. It needs to be Emme.

Dr. Pafford finally continues. “We are going to do something different this year. Our final, featured spot will showcase two songs. First, Emme Connelly, Jack Coombs, Benjamin McWilliams, and Ethan Quinn performing an original song by Mr. Quinn, and then Miss Connelly will end with her song.”

There is some applause, mostly from the other students who made the showcase. Jack and Ben get up and start celebrating, but Emme just sits in her seat.

“Red! Come here!” Jack has to pick Emme up off her seat to give her a hug.

She smiles at him, but it seems forced.

I take Emme by the hand and lead her out of the auditorium.

Jack is more than happy to be the representative of the band to receive the congratulations for our spot.

“Emme? You know it freaks me out when you go all comatose on me.”

She blinks quickly like she’s trying to wake up.

“It’s my fault Sophie didn’t get in.”

It kills me that in one of her most triumphant moments, one that every other senior is envious of, she’s thinking about Sophie.

She takes a deep breath. “Sorry, you know that my Kool-Aid detox is going to take a while. She made it very clear what she thinks of me. It’s for the —”

Emme looks like she’s seen a ghost. I turn around and see Sophie, a very angry and tear-soaked Sophie approaching. I stand in front of Emme trying to block her, protect her.

Sophie practically runs up to us and pushes me out of the way.

“You!” She gets in Emme’s face. “You’ve ruined my life! Are you happy now?”

The other students exiting the auditorium start gathering around. I want them to all go away — Emme doesn’t need this. She doesn’t deserve this.

I gently move Emme back so I get in between them.

“It’s not Emme’s fault, Sophie. Quit blaming your failures on her.”

“Shut it, Ethan! God, you’re so desperate and pathetic. She only sees you as a friend. The only person she’s interested in screwing around here is me!”

Her words sting. I try to block them out of my mind, but up until a week ago, Emme did think that Sophie was her best friend. She would’ve told her what she thinks of me. Not that I ever truly thought that Emme would ever see past my mistakes and want to be with me.

The tension in the air is so thick. My mind races to find what to say.

I feel Emme’s hand on the small of my back and she moves me aside.

“Sophie,” she says in a calm, controlled voice, “don’t you dare talk to Ethan like that. He’s been a true friend to me, unlike you.”

“Yeah, a true friend who wants to get in your pants.”

There’s some laughter. I can’t believe she said that in front of practically the entire senior class.

Plus, that’s not true. I want more than that from Emme.

Not that I haven’t thought about what it would be like … every moment of every waking (and dreaming) hour.

Emme stands up tall, but I see her body is twitching. She takes a deep breath. I’ve only seen her like this one other time, and it was when she gave me a tongue-lashing that still stings to this day. I thought I never wanted to see that side of her again.

But with Sophie being on the receiving end, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

“I can’t believe it has taken me this long to see what you’re really like. Since you feel the need to air dirty laundry in front of everybody …” She motions to the nearly one hundred people standing around. “Guess what. When I write songs for you, I have to limit the melody to ten notes because those are the only notes you can hit well. You don’t have good range, which is what your problem is. I’ve known that for years, but I’ve hidden it. That’s why you only shine when you sing
my
songs, because I’ve been trying to help you … by disguising your biggest flaw. Well, one of your flaws. You can’t blame me for your lack of range. You can’t blame me for you not getting into the showcase. You always want things to be all about you. Anytime I come to you with a problem, you don’t want to hear it, unless it has to do with you.”

Emme’s face is bright crimson. I can see tears starting to well up in her eyes.

“Well, congratulations, Sophie — you finally got what you wanted. Because this, not getting into the showcase, is all about you. You struggling in class, it’s all about you. The wake of relationships you’ve destroyed to get to this moment, it’s all on you. Enjoy your moment. You’ve earned everything that’s coming to you. Truly.”

Emme grabs my arm and starts to walk away. There’s some muttering and applause as she leaves.

I try to think of what to say to her, but I can’t. Yet again, I’m completely at a loss for words. And always at the worst times.

“Please don’t say anything — just keep walking.” Her voice is quivering and she’s sniffling.

It seems that this is one of the few moments in my life where being an idiotic mute is working in my favor.

She leads me up to the practice suites and enters one of the small rooms and closes the door behind us.

She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at me. We both sit there in silence and stare at each other. I’m resisting every urge in my body to grab her, hold her, kiss her.

Emme opens her mouth and lets out an agonizing sob. She collapses on the floor.

I rush to her side and hold her, willing myself to say something, anything to comfort her. All I can do is cradle her in my arms and run my fingers through her hair. Everything I want is right here, so close to me, but I can’t seem to find my voice.

Emme pulls me away and starts to wipe away her tears. “I’m sorry, Ethan.” She has trouble catching her breath. “I’m so sick of crying. It’s just, I can’t believe how much I’ve been used, been betrayed by someone I thought was my friend.”

She wraps her arms around her legs and starts rocking back and forth. “I feel so alone.”

Those words feel like daggers. How can she feel alone when I’m right here? I’m always here for her. I always have been.

A loud voice starts screaming in my head,
Then tell her that! Tell her how you feel! Tell her now, you imbecile!

“It’s like every person I decide to trust lets me down.”

You would never hurt her! Open up your mouth and tell her that!

She looks up at me as if she realizes what she just said. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Ethan…. I know, I mean, you haven’t …”

My eyes widen as I realize that she’s lumping me in with Sophie. Sophie stabbed Emme in the back by manipulating their supposed friendship for her personal gain. And I … well, I’ve messed up countless times and it seems that Emme hasn’t forgotten, or forgiven, my past indiscretions.

You’ve changed! Remind her of that, don’t sit there and let her think the worst of you!

My mouth opens. “It’s okay, Emme. You’ve been through a lot. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.”

What the hell? Seriously, dude? You’re going to waste this moment! Coward!

She lets out a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re probably one of the few people who think that.”

Tell her you love her! Say the words! Don’t let her go! Don’t waste this moment!

“I doubt that.”

Idiot!

She gets up and looks at her reflection in the mirror. “Ugh. I’m a mess.”

“It’s not that bad.”

WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

“I’m so tired. I just want to go home….”

She turns around and stops herself when she sees me. She studies me for a second. “Are
you
okay, Ethan? You look, um, I don’t know. Is everything okay?”

I realize that I’ve been holding my breath. It probably looks like I’m going to burst. So I say the only thing I can think of.

“No, I’m fine.”

God, I loathe you.

Join the club.

I
think I’m having a nervous breakdown.

I get overwhelmed about not only getting to play my song at the Senior Showcase, but getting the last spot, with the band.

Then I’m not even allowed to celebrate it because I basically dress Sophie down in front of the entire school.

So I do what I’ve been really good at doing lately, which is cry uncontrollably.

And then I insult Ethan.

Clearly, there is something wrong with me.

But Ethan, being Ethan, either doesn’t notice it or is too nice to say anything about it.

All I know is that I can’t lose another friend. And Ethan, unlike Sophie, is a true friend. I know that he cheats on his girlfriends and does some pretty stupid things, but he’s always been there for me.

And I need him more than ever, now that we have to focus on the showcase and college auditions.

Jack bursts through the door with a shopping bag. “Costume time!”

We’re playing our last gig of the year and are going to do some Christmas songs, so Jack thought it would be appropriate for us to be as festive as possible. He hands Ethan a Santa jacket, Ben some elf ears, me tinsel, and keeps a Santa hat for himself.

He looks in the mirror. “Man, I make anything look hot!”

We all groan. I start wrapping myself up in the tinsel.

Jack comes over to study me. “You’d make one fine gift under the tree, Red. Don’t you think so, Ethan?”

Ethan freezes with his jacket halfway on. “Um, sure?”

“‘Um, sure?’” Jack makes a face. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m trying to figure out why we all have to wear something idiotic and all you have to do is put on a hat?”

Ben takes that as his cue to debate with Jack over why he has to be an elf. There’s a knock on the door and I can’t believe it when I see who it is.

“Carter!” I run over and give him a hug. “I thought you weren’t coming back for two more weeks.”

“Change of plans. I didn’t want to miss Christmas in New York.” He gives me a tight squeeze and then greets everybody in the room.

“Nice ears,” he says to Ben.

“That’s it!” Ben throws the ears down. “I am
not
going to be the elf.”

Ben and Jack start to argue again about the costumes.

Carter comes over to me. “Yikes, didn’t realize that was going to set him off.”

“It doesn’t take much with those two.”

Ethan shakes Carter’s hand. “Hey, man, did you hear who the spotlight performance for the showcase went to?”

Carter’s eyes get wide. “Aw, that’s amazing! Congrats, you guys!”

He pats me on the back.

Ethan shakes his head. “No, the band is second to last. It’s Emme. Solo.”

Carter picks me up. “Emme, I’m so proud of you! Tell me everything.”

I go to a corner and sit down with Carter and fill him in on everything that happened with Sophie.

“Ah, gotta love karma. What goes around, comes around,” Carter says.

“I guess….” I don’t want to think about Sophie anymore. “YOU need to tell me everything! How was Italy?”

Carter gushes, “Amazing. We went to all these art museums and I ate so much pasta. It was a goal Mom and I had — to eat pasta and gelato every day. She’s already signed up for some master cleanse the day after Christmas. But we had a lot of fun and I loved that not once did I get recognized. For the first time in my life, nobody cared who I was. My only movies that are shown over there are from when I was really young, so I was just a guy with his mom. I’ve never had that before.”

Carter looks so relaxed and happy. He never really appeared to be miserable, but I think before it was an act and now it’s real.

He continues. “So I bought a ton of art books abroad and have been really inspired to paint. I’m going to start working with a tutor to take the GED in a couple months, then art school.”

“That’s great, Carter. I’m really proud of you.”

He nods to himself. “Thanks. Me, too. I can’t believe how much things have changed in the last couple of months. Who knows, maybe someday you’ll be coming to one of my art openings! Crazier things have happened.”

I laugh. Certainly, out of everything that has transpired since the beginning of school, Carter holding an art exhibition would be considered extremely normal.

“Guys!” Jack gets up and starts jumping up and down. “We got five minutes.”

Carter excuses himself and the four of us get in a circle.

We put our arms around each other and Jack leans in for what’s supposed to be a pep talk, but he usually ends up insulting each of us. “Okay, our last Christmas gig. Ethan’s sober, so that’s an improvement over last year…. Red is going to rock her guitar solo, although try to not make the rest of us look so inferior, O Red One…. Ben, you look adorable in your elf ears.”

Our hands go into the center.

Jack shouts out, “
Jack rules
on three. One, Two!”

“Jack sucks!” The three of us shout back.

“Aww, come on, where’s the love?”

We all walk out to the stage with Jack shouting, “Forget about your presents now!”

 

There’s no way we aren’t going to get our presents from Jack.

After the show, the four of us head to Ethan’s house, and Jack makes a big to-do about our presents. We each open our gifts to find a framed, near life-size photo of Jack’s face.

“I know you guys are going to miss me….” His smile fades at the words.

The rest of us exchange presents. I got each of the guys a personalized leather notebook filled with sheet music.

“For when you get inspired and aren’t near a computer.”

“You’re so old-school, Red!” Jack gives me a kiss on the cheek.

Ethan comes up to me. “Hey, Emme, your gift is on its way. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” Ethan always goes a little over the top with gifts. I’m usually embarrassed by my present in comparison, so I’m somewhat grateful that I don’t need to feel guilty tonight.

He hands Jack and Ben their presents. Jack unwraps personalized drumsticks with his name and a logo that Trevor designed, while Ben receives designer guitar picks and a matching guitar strap.

“My turn!” Ben hands us each a square box. We untie the bright red and green ribbon to find another notebook. “Look inside.”

I open the front cover and gasp. “It’s the first picture taken of us.” I start flipping through and it is filled with flyers, set lists, ticket stubs of all our concerts.

I don’t want to cry … again. Especially in front of the guys. I hate to be the stereotype of the girl of the group.

“This is awesome….” I hear Jack’s voice crack. “Got something in my eye.” He wipes away a tear and gives Ben a big bear hug.

The four of us start reminiscing as we go through the scrap-book. The dives we’ve played in, the technical difficulties, the
one
groupie … I wouldn’t take back a single thing.

“Well, ladies … and Ethan” — Jack gets up from the couch — “I’ve got my hot girlfriend waiting for me.”

“I’ll share a taxi with you.” Ben grabs his jacket.

I stand up. “I probably should head out.”

“Emme, there’s all this cake left.” Ethan motions toward the half-eaten chocolate cake on the coffee table.

“Oh, well …”

Ethan hands me a fork, and Ben and Jack both hug me good night.

I sit down on the plush carpet and dive into the cake. Ethan knows the way to my heart — not that he’s after that; he just knows I like food.

I stare at the gigantic Christmas tree in the corner of the room. The white lights decorating the tree fill the room with a soft white glow.

Ethan goes over to the tree and grabs a huge gift-wrapped rectangle.

“Okay, I lied. I have your gift but didn’t want you to open it in front of the guys.”

Oh.

He sets down the oversize gift and already I know it’s too much. I start to tear away the wrapping, to find a cardboard box with no markings. Ethan leans over to cut the tape around the box with a knife.

I lift the tabs open and dig around the plastic wrapping and pull out a black guitar case.

“Ethan …”

I’m scared to open it. It’s a guitar. And I’m sure it isn’t from Target, like the ones I use.

I unzip the bag to find a candy apple red electric guitar. But not just any electric guitar, a 1964 Fender Stratocaster.

“I can’t …”

Ethan takes the guitar out and hands it to me.

“I know what you’re going to say. But I saw this the other day and thought that you
need
to have it. So consider it a Christmas, Birthday, Graduation, Kicking Ass at the showcase, and Getting into Juilliard gift.”

“It’s still too much.” The guitar is beautiful and I start to strum it. Even unplugged, it sounds wonderful.

“Okay, add putting up with me, holding my hand at the hospital, believing in me, and such.”

I shake my head. I know he won’t stop until I accept it.

“Plus,” he continues, “imagine the damage you can do on your guitar solos with it.”

I run my hands up and down the bright red polish. Holding it, I know I won’t be able to give it back. I want to plug it in and play.

“And, you know, just remember this gift when we both get into Juilliard.”

I look at him and finally get what he means. He always keeps mentioning about what happens if we both get in.

“Ethan, do you think that I wouldn’t want you to go to Juilliard?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I sometimes think that maybe you want to go to school by yourself…. Start anew, I guess.”

“To be honest, I can’t think past the audition. I know you’re going to get in, so when I think about Juilliard, I just assume we’ll be there together. But if not, I’ll be in Boston. Look at me, like I’m just assuming that Berklee will accept me.

“I just need to take things one at a time. First the showcase, then the auditions. You know that I can’t handle too many things at once. I’ve vowed to not turn into a sobbing wreck for the rest of the semester.”

It’s getting late, so I get up to leave. Then a thought comes to me. “Hey, Ethan? If I wrote accompaniments, do you think you and the guys would join me on my song?”

“You know we’d love to.”

It doesn’t feel right to not have them up there with me for my song. Plus, I think adding guitars and a drum would make it a lot stronger. I know that I’d be sad when they left the stage, plus it is one of the last performances we’ll be doing. I want us to do as much together as possible before we all head our separate ways.

I turn around before I head to the door. “I’m going to really miss the band next year.”

“There’s always the summer,” he suggests.

But we both know that with the four of us spread across the country, it is going to be hard to pick up right where we left off. Sure, we’ll probably play together, but it won’t be the same. Nothing will be the same.

I look at Ethan and I know he’s harder on himself than anybody I’ve ever known. He’s so self-critical, and it doesn’t help that Jack teases him all the time, or that I yelled at him. But after The Incident and The Injury, he’s been a lot calmer and hasn’t exhibited his usual self-destructive behavior.

“I’m really proud of you,” I say.

He looks taken aback.

“Really. I know you’ve been through a lot, probably tortured yourself more than you should. But when I think about next year, it will make me sad if we aren’t together. You mean a lot to me. I never would’ve had the courage to do that solo if it wasn’t for you. So I guess I better practice extra hard so I get in.”

“You’re going to get in.”

And the way he says it, it’s like it’s a fact. A done deal.

But when Ethan says things like that to me, I believe him. Not because I have a bloated self-esteem, but because when he says it, I want to believe it.

I want to be that person he thinks I am.

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