“Since the third grade,” he replied roughly.
My brain stalled, but before I could say anything Mr. Halloway was peeking his head through the curtain motioning us on.
Jude laced the fingers of his free hand through mine. “Come on.” Tugging me toward the stage door, he led me to the front.
Applause broke over the room the second Jude let go of my hand long enough to nudge me forward. The sound swelled around me as I rubbed damp palms over the silk of my skirt and forced my mouth into something resembling a smile. My flesh pebbled.
Someone whistled from the front row. Toward the back, I caught sight of my preschool piano teacher sitting at the end of an aisle.
Everyone was here…
Chairs shifted as my classmates took their seats and Jude disappeared from beside me. Bridget was sitting up in the balcony, with the sound crew. It was hard to see her through the blind of the spotlight centered on me, but I caught her thumbs up, and the glint of my laptop in her hands. She was hollering too.
I faced my peers, who held their instruments at the ready. Backs straight. Feet flat. Chest forward. They all looked at me expectantly. For a moment, I hesitated, until my gaze landed on Ransom. His expression was terse, brows furrowed.
My pulse stumbled.
The nerves had been there all evening, a low relentless current beneath my skin, but now they rose fast and violent, crashing through me hard enough to make my hands tremble. My baton shook between my fingers.
Jude wasn’t supposed to be here, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to know. Not about the composition. Not about the hours I’d spent pouring pieces of him into every measure until the music barely felt like mine anymore. And now he sat behind the drums with red-rimmed eyes and that impossibly focused expression, waiting for my cue.
“We have such a special treat for you today folks,” Mr. Halloway began. He stepped to the side, holding his hand out toward me. “Firstly, I’d like to congratulate our senior student director, Solace Davis, who has been offered a position at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music this fall.”
The applause grew, but I couldn’t see past the lump Jude battled in his throat as I looked away from him.
“Solace spent nine months composing this piece, you’ll notice a collection of sounds that are not here on stagewith us. She has worked with, not only her fellow bandmates, but with the orchestra and choir as well to tell a compelling story she has described herself as a tale of fate. It gives me great pleasure to invite you all to the first performance ofSatellites, by Solace Davis.”
Heart racing, fingers trembling, I lifted my baton.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Oberlin?” Jude asked, shoving another fry into his mouth. “I asked about your audition, and you acted like it was no big deal. I’m pretty sure your exact words were, ‘It was fine.’”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
He scoffed. “I’d say getting into a revered music conservatory and composing your own damn music is pretty important.” He pushed his plate away. “Why didn’t you say anything, Sol?”
Sitting in a back booth at Corner Grill was the last place I wanted to have this conversation. As it turned out, we always wound up at the dimly lit diner because it was the only place open late. Just one of the many charms of living in a small town.Not.
My classmates were scattered around the restaurant, all too wrapped up in their own late dinners to pay us any attention. Well, some of them. I arched a brow toward Luca and Bridget, who sat a few tables away very obviously eavesdropping.
“I didn’t think it mattered,” I said. “I’m not going.”
His soda was halfway to his mouth before he stopped, eyes flicking to mine over the rim of the glass. Slowly, he set it back down.
“You’re not going.”
“Nope.” I stole another fry from his plate.
He let out a choked laugh. “You’ve talked about nothing else for the last five years.”
“I decided it would be better to go to college closer to home. I won’t have to pay for housing or food. Besides, I can teach anywhere.”
“You decided? Or your mom decided? What are you even saying right now—you’re going to be a band teacher?”
“Or a choir teacher.”
“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve wanted to compose your own music, or lead a symphony. And last I checked, the closest university is almost four hours away.”
A dull ache tightened my cheeks. “I’m going to the two-year and then transfer to finish my bachelor’s, and after that I’ll hopefully replace Mr. Halloway when he retires in a few years. It’s my choice.”
