Sing Me To Sleep Part 7

Why am I anxious

To leave my old sh.e.l.l behind?

Can it be possible?

Will all the people love me?

No hopeful chorus yet. Stay tuned, though. Maybe hopeful is around the corner.

chapter 6.

RUBY.

Leah makes me sign up for the online network they are all on. My page is pathetic. I don't know what to do about a picture. That part is blank. Looks lame. The whole choir friended me-even Terri. That's kind of cool.

I'm going down the list, clicking "Confirm," and right in the middle of those smiling Bliss faces, there's one from a guy.

It startles me. I didn't think I'd have to deal with guys here. Maybe Scott, but not a real guy like this one. He's beautiful. Unreal good-looking. Dark hair, pale skin, moody brown eyes a girl could get lost in. Derek. Sounds kind of phony. Maybe he's the network host. Everybody's first friend.

I click on the message attached to his request.

Good day, I'm one of the ABC soloists. Heard you on Bliss's Web site. Welcome to the Choral Olympics. Chat with me?

ABC? Oh, c.r.a.p. This guy is from the Amabile Boys' Choir.

Stupid, Terri. She changed up Bliss's Web site. I start singing as soon as the site launches. She must have put my name up there. Great. This babe of a guy thinks I'm some beautiful Blissette and wants to chat.

I move my mouse to "Ignore."

I know what guys who look like this one are really like. Mean, nasty brutes. This guy sings, though. I adjust my gla.s.ses and lean forward-trying to see beyond the angel face to the demon it must hide. I need to call Sarah. She knows about guys. She's a champion at guys.

No. She'd make me confirm, so I could pa.s.s him off to her. Too bad Meadow has her boyfriend. I owe her something like this. Her ethereal perfection matches this Derek guy exactly.

Leah? Naw. This is hardly official choir business.

I'll just ignore. I like that feature. I click my mouse. c.r.a.p. The arrow wandered over to "Confirm" while I was ogling his picture. There's got to be a block feature. While I'm hunting for it, the chat box pops up.

Derek: hi, Beth . . . thanks for confirming me I type, "I didn't mean to. Can you tell me how to block?" I erase that and send a cautious, noncommittal, What do you want?

Derek: I'm our choir's designated spy Beth: really?

Shoot. I should have called Leah. This is official choir business.

Derek: honest to gosh Beth: you won't get anything out of me Derek: sounds like it will be fun trying Beth: oh, please Yuck. Now my hands are all sweaty. I dry them on my jeans while I wait for his next post.

Derek: it's unusual for a choir to come out of nowhere like you guys did Beth: you guys scared?

Derek: hardly Beth: then why bother to spy?

Derek: are all your pieces as good as that one on your site?

I decide a strategic lie is necessary here-for the good of the choir.

Beth: better Derek: hard to believe Beth: it's true Derek: your vocals are beautiful on that one Beth: really? you think so?

He's making me blush. I'm such a wimp at this stuff. c.r.a.p. I need to concentrate.

Derek: if your other pieces are even half that strong, Bliss should do well in Lausanne Beth: we think we can win Derek: win? don't get your heart set on that . . . you're competing against us Beth: and you don't lose?

Derek: not lately Beth: but you're worried Derek: not really The c.o.c.ky little Canadian snot.

Beth: then why spy on us?

Derek: spying on you Me? What does he mean by that? I should just close the screen, but I don't. I can't help it. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I'll play along. Just to see what it's like.

Beth: that doesn't sound like official choir business Derek: you have such a lovely voice . . . I'm curious about the rest of you Beth: this conversation is over!

Derek: don't be like that . . . aren't you curious about me?

Beth: no Derek: really? are you serious?

Beth: why so surprised?

Derek: most girls are . . . curious Beth: I'm not most girls.

Derek: cool. see you in Lausanne Beth: where we'll beat the heck out of you guys Derek: not likely I've had enough. I don't know how to end the chat session, so I close the whole site. I don't ever want to go back on it again. I don't care what Sarah and Meadow say.

Great. We're wasting half this practice trying on dresses. That c.o.c.ky Amabile boy made me realize we're nowhere near ready to compete. To even stand a chance in an international compet.i.tion, we can't sing standing in parts like a traditional choir-altos, first and second sopranos. We have to be all mixed up to get a nice blend. Judges can hear the difference. We'll be laughed right out of Switzerland if we don't.

It's tough to sing that way. The altos can't follow me. The other parts can't follow their strongest singers. Each chorister has to be able to sing the part on her own. And it's all got to be memorized perfectly. It's coming, but we're running out of time. We're going to be competing against choirs from music schools. They practice for hours every day, not a couple nights a week. Our big spring concert is three weeks away. We need every minute of every practice. Terri's thrown in a couple marathon Sat.u.r.day sessions after school's out, but I'm not confident we'll be where we need to be. I don't want to just go to the Choral Olympics. After all Meadow's mom has put me through, I want gold. And that boy across the border in Ontario's fake excuse for a London, he better watch out.

So I hang out at practice that night, steaming. I'm also mad that I gave in and wore that dumb bra. No inserts. They creep me out, wobbly rubber things still sitting in their bag. I'm not touching them. The bra is bad enough. The underwires are digging into me, and it's just not comfortable to be pushed and squeezed like this. It's really strange to look down and see cleavage. I'm such a coward, though. I figured I better not risk Meadow's mom's wrath tonight by showing up in my sports bra for her fancy fitting.

She and Meadow put their hearts and souls into these gowns. I need to keep being a good girl, and I'll get to sing. It's all so unreal. I'll wake up one morning and it will have evaporated. I'll be the Beast anchoring the alto, and we won't be going anywhere. Each day that goes by and that's not true makes the next day less real. Less solid. Thin fabric that will tear if I do anything wrong. The only trip I'll be going on is whatever the h.e.l.l Colby plans next for me.

I want to go back to scribbling lyrics on the back of the last song in my choir binder. I think I was getting somewhere, but Leah and Sarah, both armed with those straightener things, are ironing my hair again. "Ouch."

How did it go? Something about daisies and b.u.t.terflies. No, it was . . .

Not quite a tadpole,

Not quite a swan.

An opening bud?

The sun at dawn?

c.r.a.p. Too embarra.s.sing for words. I need to erase it all. Fast.

Sarah burns me again. "Sorry."

"It's okay." The lyrics in my brain disintegrate. "Thanks for helping me."

"I can't hold this steady." Sarah puts down the straightening iron. "I'm so nervous."

Leah releases the lock of hair she straightened. "Why?"

Sarah sighs. "What if the gown looks bad on me? Red isn't my color."

"But they aren't red." Leah clamps the straightening iron on another chunk of hair and slowly slides it down. "They are ruby. Jewel tones look good on everybody."

"You're starting to sound like Meadow's mom." Sarah puts down her straightener and brushes out her side of my head.

"Well-she's right. The other choirs will all be in black, white, or some nauseating blue." Leah releases the last smoothed strand of hair. "We'll make such a statement. No one wears red."

"Maybe because it's s.l.u.tty." Sarah has been moody all night.

"It's elegant." Leah takes the brush and perfects my hair. "You saw the fabric. Definitely not s.l.u.tty." She hands me the mirror.

"It is pretty." I can't imagine me wearing something made of it.

Meadow appears at the sanctuary door. "Beth-you're next."

"Wait a minute. I need to tell you three about something."

I fill them in about my chat with Derek. Meadow whips out her iPhone, pulls up my page, and uses my friend link to get to Derek's page. "Oh, baby. I call dibs on him."

"You can't call him. He wrote to Beth." Sarah peers over Meadow's shoulder at the tiny screen. "She gets to decide."

Meadow studies the screen, navigating around his page. "He obviously thinks she's me. I'm Bliss's soloist."

Leah puts down the brush and tries to get a look at Meadow's screen. "You have a boyfriend, don't you?"

Meadow shrugs. "He's starting to get on my nerves. Derek here is definitely an upgrade."

"Meadow!" Her mom's voice bellows up from the depths of the church.

"Let's go, Beth." Meadow drags me to the bas.e.m.e.nt lair.

Downstairs her mom has transformed the dingy bas.e.m.e.nt. Big lamps. Lots of mirrors. Four portable wardrobe racks glistening with ruby dresses. There's a screen in the corner. Four other girls are wearing long slips and stepping into their gowns.

Meadow's mom herds me behind the screen and hands me an extra-long slip. My tee is really tight. I set down my gla.s.ses, pull off my tee, and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the screen. Put my gla.s.ses back on for a clearer view. That bra makes me look way s.e.xy. How can a lacey bra and cleavage transform my bony body like that? My too-long legs are waxed smooth, my stomach is flat, and there isn't a single zit to be seen anywhere on me. Maybe I can go to the beach this summer. Lake Huron never really warms up, but I love wading in the icy water on a muggy July day. I haven't done it since I was a kid.

I pull the satiny slip over my head. The fabric slides over my body like a whisper. I shimmy my designer jeans that I only wear to Bliss rehearsals and for Meadow's excursions out from under it. The soft fabric touches my skin, clings to the curves of my body. Totally luxurious. I feel like I did when Scott touched my lips.

Scott.

What would my old friend with his white teeth, clear skin, s.e.xy-guy neck, and wispy locks of blond hair think of me like this? I can almost picture myself with a guy like that Derek. I stand there working out a hopeful chorus.

An awkward tadpole

Turns to graceful frog.