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“That’s great.” It would certain remove him from the risk of injury on the playing field. “Jake wants to study engineering.”
“Yeah, he and Archie would be great at MIT, also in Boston,” he pointed out. “So, with Coop, even if we weren’t at the same school, we could still get a place together.” I let that slide for now. “But…to get into the program I have to get accepted at the schoolandsubmit a blind audition for a spot in the music program.”
“Okay,” I said blowing out a breath. “Early admission deadline is November 1st. Standard admission is January 1st. We need to know the deadlines for the audition. We should probably look at auditioning at all the schools if we plan to apply at all of them.”
Bubba’s smile grew. “Well yes, but that’s not what I actually need your help with. I mean I do, but… will you help me make the audition tape? I need to pick out a piece, practice it, and record it. It can be a duet, so you can sing on it, too, if we pick an arrangement that works well.”
Horror crawled through me. “Sing?”
“You have a gorgeous voice, Frankie-I-pretend-to-lip-sync-when-the-music-is-playing, but we had karaoke at Archie’s party way back when, remember?”
Ugh. I made a face. I hated performing in front of people. I’d only gotten up there because of a dare, and after I’d actually had my very first shot of whiskey. It had gone right to my head, so I’d belted out a Pink song like I knew what I was doing.
“If you don’t remember…” Bubba reached for his phone.
“Don’t you dare,” I said, pointing at him. “Just—don’t.”
They’d recorded me, the asses. The only saving grace was no one put it on YouTube, but the guys had trotted that thing out a dozen different times.
“I won’t,” he said immediately, then leaned toward me. “But will you help me, Frankie? I can’t ask the guys. You know how they get.” I did know. “You’ve always been supportive of my music.”
“So you have the essay covered?” I asked. My dry tone probably gave away my opinion as I tossed his audition idea around in my head.
“Well…” He grinned. “I won’t say no to help there.”
“I’ll help you by reading your practice essays and giving you feedback.” Then I groaned. “And yes, I’ll help you with your auditions.” His eyes lit up and then I was engulfed in a well-toned and definitely muscled hug as he all but lifted me out of the chair.
“You really are the best,” he said, standing and spinning us around. I read his intentions a split second before he started moving.
“Don’t you—” I didn’t get to finish as we were suddenly airborne and then splashing into the pool together.
We came up spluttering, but instead of letting me go, his hands lingered on my sides before he swung me around in the pool.
“Ass,” I said with a smack to his shoulder but all he did was grin.
Why did I say yes? Even as I asked myself the question, I couldn’t look away from the pure delight and relief on his face.
I knew why I’d said yes.
Because I was Frankie.
I was his bud.
“When do you want to start?” Like I didn’t already know the answer.
“How about tonight? We can swim, finish eating—do you have any other homework? I can help or you know, hang out then I can pull the guitar out and see what we can figure out?”
Yep.
I should have known.
“Okay,” I said, turning to swim toward the side. He gave me a squeeze before finally letting me go. “I gotta let my mom know I’m going to be late.”
“Yes!” Bubba fist pumped before he splashed backwards in the pool.
Dork fit him, too.
Big. Sweet. Adorable. Dork.
