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My eyes widened at her use of what I’d come to realize was a massive Southern insult. “You went there. You blessed her heart.”
She playfully swatted my arm. “Stop making fun of me or your heart might be next.” Her phone rang, and all the color drained from her face.
It rang a second time, and I gestured frantically. “Answer it!” We’d been through this process three times before, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-racking. If anything, it was worse because this was it, one way or another.
Georgia squeezed my hand so tightly there was bound to be an impression of my ring on her palm. She answered her phone with a tremble in her voice. “Hello?”
Holding my breath, I watched her facial expressions to try to determine if the news she was receiving was good or bad. She nodded with a few “uh-huhs” thrown into the mix. Finally, she ended the call.
I looked at her expectantly, my heart sinking when she didn’t say anything. “What did they say?”
“I made it.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
I shrieked and pulled her to me in a hug. “Yay! I’m so happy for you. The way you were acting, I thought you’d gotten bad news.”
“Well,” she said sheepishly, “I didn’t want to get overly excited because you haven’t gotten your call yet. Just in case…” Her eyes widened. “Oh shit. Did I just jinx you?”
My laughter belied the anxiety thrumming in my chest. “I’m pretty sure the decision has already been made. There’s no way to jinx me at this point.”
“You’re getting in,” Georgia said with conviction. “I know it.”
“Then why did you say ‘just in case’ earlier?” I teased.
“Because sometimes people make idiotic decisions.” Her Southern accent was stronger than normal, a sure sign she was flustered. I agreed with her, though. I belonged on the show, and only an idiot wouldn’t see that.
I squeezed her hand gently. “Relax. Everything will work out the way it’s—”
My phone rang, and I quickly forgot the Zen-inspired saying I’d been spouting off. I didn’t believe it anyway. I put the device to my ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Alison Prescott?”
I swallowed. “Yes, this is she.”
“This is Sandra Breen fromSing Battle.” The woman’s voice was nasally, and she sounded bored, as if she wasn’t holding my future hostage with her next words. “I’m pleased to inform you that you have been selected to be a contestant on this season’s show.”
My jaw dropped, and Georgia stared back with wide eyes. I gave an almost imperceptible nod. She shrieked, pulled me off the couch, and started jumping up and down.
“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,” she chanted.
I was numb as I hung up the phone. Even if I could have heard Sandra over Georgia’s chants, I wouldn’t have been able to pay attention.It’s happening. It’s really happening.
My earlier saying that everything would work out the way it was supposed to was total and utter bullshit. Because I believed in my soul that I was meant for more than my current existence, andSing Battlewas my ticket to the futureIwanted… and not the one that would please my family.
Georgia frowned. “Aren’t you excited?”
I nodded. “I am. But this just got real, you know? There’s so much to do. I have to—”
“Celebrate,” Georgia said firmly. “The only thing we’re doing tonight is celebrating.”
“But—”
“No buts.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me what she’d told me Southern women called “the eye.” Since meeting Georgia, I’d gained a new appreciation for the steel magnolias who hailed from below the Mason-Dixon Line. “We’re celebrating. The hard work can begin tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, and a wave of elation washed over me, as if Georgia had given me the permission I needed to enjoy the moment. A broad grin stretched across my face. “We’re going to be onSing Battle.”
“Hell yeah we are!” A wicked gleam filled her eyes. “But tonight? We dance.”
Trenton
