“She used to single me out and tell me I sounded like a yowling cat—in first grade!—and make me stand at the head of the class, repeatingsections of songs in front of everybody until I got them right. But I never could get them right. It got so bad, I started faking stomachaches before class. Then she decided I was a troublemaker—and started doing it more.”
“Wow,” Cooper said.
“It kind of snowballed.”
“It sure did.”
“I’ll state for the record that I had many wonderful teachers in my life—most of them math teachers, by the way—which was lucky. But she was the only music teacher at our elementary school for years. So I had her three years, first grade through third, before she quit.”
“The year I moved to our street,” Cooper said, putting it together.
“By fourth grade, we had Mrs. Cantorna—who was, as I’m sure you remember, the epitome of loveliness.”
“But by then it was too late for you.”
I nodded. “By then it was too late for me.”
Cooper was quiet for a minute after that. Then he asked, “Are duets allowed?”
“Where?” I asked.
“At Ashley’s reception.”
I pulled in a breath. Was he asking what it sounded like he was asking?
Cooper went on. “What if I serenaded Ashley with you? What if we did it together?”
At those words, a rolling wave of relief cascaded over my body. I turned onto my side, ripping the pillow barrier away so I could check his face in the moonlight. “Really?”
He met my eyes. “That could work, maybe—right?”
I nodded. That could work, maybe.
“But do you think she’d mind an extra person?” Cooper asked.
“Not if it’s you.”
“We’re going to have to practice, okay?” he said. “And it has to be a song that’s easy for you. One you know really well.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Cooper shrugged, likeWhat else?“‘Tonight, You Belong to Me.’”
What else, indeed.
That was our song.
Or, at least—if we’dhada song, it would’ve been that one.
Of all those songs—from “I’ll Be Seeing You” to “All of Me”—that one was our favorite. We spent the whole summer after junior year up on the roof of my house, singing it over and over. I took the melody, and Cooper took the harmony, the accompaniment, and the whistle solo. It was just one of those songs that never got old.
“You could sing that song in yoursleep,” Cooper said.
“You’re not wrong about that,” I said. I probably had.
“We’ll just pretend we’re in your bedroom,” Cooper said. “Easy.”
I was nodding now, liking this idea more and more. “If you’re going to do something terrifying, it should be something you already know by heart.”
