The Funeral Singer (18 page)

What was wrong with me?

I took a few deep breaths. It was a stupid high school concert. My life was bigger than this now. I’d played the freaking 9:30 Club last night, and I might be playing the Trocadero in Philly in June. Europe and Australia actually were not beyond the realm of possibility. If not this year, maybe next.

Halfway through my little internal pep talk, someone banged on the stall door. “Edison’s up next. Get it together.”

I washed my face at the sink and rushed out to join my chorus mates as we walked onto the stage.

I basically mouthed the words to the first song, giving my throat a break. The alto part for that one was practically non-existent anyway.

Next, Pete stepped forward for “Awake.” I tried to find Lana out in the audience so I could watch her reaction, but it was too dark.

He sounded amazing, as always. If Lana had even the slightest interest, she had to have been swooning by the time he finished. I found myself praying she would. I’d always wanted her to like him, and now I wanted it more than ever. I didn’t let myself think about why.

Finally it was time for the “The New Moon.” I didn’t know what made me do it. Maybe it was all the stress of the past couple of days, maybe it was lack of sleep, maybe it was all those video cameras pointed at me—probably it was all of the above—but when we got to Sadie’s solo, I made it a duet.

A wisp of beauty all alone,

In a world as hard and gray as stone.

Sadie stiffened beside me, but she never faltered. And I hated to admit it, but Pete was right. She
was
good. Her voice may not have been as strong as mine, but it was sweet and her pitch was perfect. Together, we brought just the right tone of melancholy to the lines.

As we finished the song and exited the stage, I could feel the cold stares of my chorus mates. As soon as the door shut behind us, Sadie turned on me. “What was that?” Her eyeliner seemed to grow even darker as she glared.

“Sorry. That was not planned, I swear.” I pushed past her. Sadie was a sophomore. She’d have lots of chances to sing solo before she graduated. Heck, I was her only real competition, and the way things were going with The Grime, I probably wouldn’t even go out for chorus next year.

I tried to make a quick escape toward the exit, but Pete’s voice stopped me. “That was so not cool.”

I swung around. Everyone was watching me.

“Really? What was so not cool about it? The fact that we sounded amazing as a duet? Or the fact that our concert will actually make it onto YouTube now? Or maybe what was so not cool about it is the fact that instead of drowning in the anonymity of high school chorus, Sadie will now go down in history as the girl who sang ‘New Moon’ with the Funeral Singer.”

Pete placed a protective arm around Sadie’s shoulders. “Nice, Mel. Real attractive.” He shook his head. “What’s happening to you?”

I stepped toward him. “Sadie’s not the only one I’m saving from anonymity, you know.”

Pete’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on. Half the choral community in Virginia is sitting out there, including, I’m sure, someone from UVA’s program.”

Pete flinched. “So? I told you I won’t have time for that.”

“And why is that exactly?” I took another step forward and placed my hands on my hips. “You complain that I’m wasting my gift, but at least I’m singing. At least I’m taking some chances and putting myself out there and trying to make something of myself. And it just so happens that because of that, some very influential people were in the audience today who might discover you and
your
gift.” I turned to go, then swiveled back around. “No need to thank me.”

I marched out, ignoring the stares. Screw them. Screw chorus. I was over it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Prom week was crazy. Molly went braless and wore microskirts pretty much every day, and Hannah acted extra fake, smiling and complimenting people she wouldn’t normally deign to acknowledge. Whatever. I had them both beat.

Lana and I convinced Zed, Bruno and Ty to let us go into their Facebook accounts and send friend requests to just about the entire junior class. Then I tagged everyone who’d gone to the 9:30 Club in all of my photos from the concert and dropped a few hints that backstage passes might be available for the next gig.

When Saturday finally arrived, Lana and I got our hair, makeup and nails done at Zoe’s Day Salon and then went to my house to get dressed.

“It’s going to be so weird to see everyone all fancy, especially the guys,” I said as I adjusted the straps on the back of Lana’s gown, untwisting them so they’d crisscross evenly against her back. “I can’t even imagine some of them in tuxes. Zed and Bruno are going to look amazing, though. We’ll be the envy of—” I glanced up and noticed Lana’s expression in the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

“I found something.” Lana’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Found what?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything until after tonight, but I can’t stand it. I have to show you.” She grabbed her purse off my bed and pulled out a crumpled sheet, unfolding it slowly. “This was in Bruno’s coat pocket the other night. I found it when I was looking for his gum. I probably shouldn’t have taken it, but I thought … well, you’ll see.”

I sat down on the bed and took the sheet from her.

With you I can breathe.

With you I believe.

Sink or swim, just like him,

But your smile reels me in.

Gives me air, gives me life,

Turns my days into nights.

One by one, I take it slow,

And with you, I know

The sun will rise, rise again.

The sun will rise and warm me,

And I’ll breathe.

I’ll breathe.

I believe.

“Wow. That’s intense.”

“I know, right?” She ran her fingertips gently across the words on the sheet. “Who would have thought Bruno Locke would be so … vulnerable?”

So Bruno was into Lana after all. Like, really into her. Can’t-breathe-without-you into her. My hands shook as I fussed with one of the rhinestones on my dress. For some reason it refused to line up with the others. I tried and tried, but it kept skewing a half inch off. “What is wrong with this stupid thing?”

“I was afraid he might throw it away,” Lana said, completely ignoring my dilemma. “That’s why I kept it. It’s so beautiful, he needs to do something with it.”

A love song from Bruno to Lana. Maybe I could sing backup. Awesome. “Was this crooked when I bought it? Because if you remember, I tried this freaking dress on three times in the store and none of us ever noticed.”

“Mel.” Lana grabbed my shoulders and waited until I looked at her. “That is probably because it is one teeny, tiny rhinestone. No one noticed, and no one will notice. Now, please listen to me. I’m trying to tell you something.”

“I’m sorry.” I summoned every trick from choral training to steady my voice. “You’re right. It’s a beautiful song and he should do something with it. If you want, I’ll talk to him about recording it for you.”

“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t think it’s about me.” She bit her lip and her voice caught. “It’s about you.”

“What? But I … Are you crazy? Bruno doesn’t even like me, much less … ” I pointed to the sheet in her hand. “Much less
that
.”

Lana shook her head. “Not true. I can see it in the way he looks at you, Mel. He does like you. He more than likes you.”

I sank down onto the bed. What was Lana talking about? Half the time Bruno looked at me he was sneering. Wasn’t he? “You’re being silly,” I said. “After all, he’s taking you to prom. And anyway, you’re the Guy Magnet. No way can he resist your charms.”

“He seems to be. We’ve only ever kissed a couple of times, and we’ve never … well … more than kissed.”

Never? A sense of relief washed through me. And I hated myself for it.

Lana sat down next to me. “The thing is, I think I’m okay with it. Don’t get me wrong. It totally sucks. I’ve lusted after him forever. But … I don’t know … now that we’re together, we’re not feeling it.”

“
You’re
not feeling it?” Lana was trying to make me feel better, or save her pride, or convince herself. There was no way on earth she’d stopped crushing on Bruno.

Lana shrugged. “Not so much. I mean, I still love the idea of him, of course, but somehow the reality of him, with me, doesn’t work. The chemistry isn’t there.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to make sense of it all. Lana was over Bruno. Bruno might not hate me. Might even be into me. Might even have written that incredibly, unbelievably, ridiculously romantic song about me. I stood and shook my head. “It’s not possible. And even if it were, I’m with Zed. No way am I screwing with that. We finally go public tonight. Zed and I are—”

The sound of the doorbell interrupted me.

Lana grabbed my hands. “That’s them.”

We stood like that, frozen. I could hear my father’s muffled voice, followed by Zed’s and then Bruno’s. Lana tightened her grip. “Promise we’ll have fun tonight? I know things are a little complicated, but we still have the Best. Prom Dates. Ever.”

I laughed and nodded. “Promise.”

Lana was half right. We did have fantastic prom dates, but things were not complicated. In fact, they were quite simple: Zed and I were together. And now that we were making it public, we were going to seriously rock it together. End of story.

My mom knocked on the bedroom door and peeked in. “Come on, girls. Time for pictures.”

Lana gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and we each took a deep breath. Time to make our entrance.

Zed was even more amazing than I’d imagined in his tux. As he turned and saw me, his eyes lit up and that slow, sexy smile spread across his face. The rest of the world disappeared for a moment as that smile washed over me. He grabbed my waist and gave me a quick squeeze. “You look fantastic.”

“You too.”

I turned to see Bruno staring at me. Whatever. I looked hot. Guys stared. It was what they did. It was irrelevant.

Mom and Dad corralled us outside and into the garden at the side of the funeral home, where Lana’s mother and grandfather were waiting for us, cameras in hand.

“Oh, you both look beautiful.” Lana’s mother kissed each of us on the forehead.

“I helped them pick out their dresses, you know.” Mr. Waldron sounded so proud.

“You’re a man of impeccable taste,” my dad said, shaking his hand.

The photo shoot went on forever as we took shots of every possible combination of people. One of my favorites was a photo of Lana with her mom and grandfather. All three of them looked as though they might burst with happiness.

I tried to ignore Bruno, but it seemed like every other shot we ended up being pressed up against each other. At one point, I even managed to get my hair caught in a button on his shirt.

His hand gently grazed my neck as he untangled it. “Hold still.” His eyes wore an expression so gentle, so concerned, I had the momentary urge to tear the button off and his shirt with it. Could Lana be right? Did Bruno really like me? And did I like him?

No, I couldn’t let myself think like that. I couldn’t ruin what I had with Zed.

Finally, it was time to leave. Zed and Bruno had hired a limo—white, with no funeral service logo on the side. I practically danced in my seat.

“Awesome ride,” Lana said as she scooted in across from me.

“Let’s make it last,” Zed said. He asked the driver to drive around a while before taking us to the hotel, and as we pulled away, he opened a cabinet door to reveal a fully stocked bar. “Party time.”

“Make mine weak,” I said.

“Yeah.” Lana gave me a light kick on the shin. “The last thing she needs is to stumble across the stage in those heels when they crown her queen.”

Zed mixed a yummy chocolate- and coffee-flavored drink that tasted more like a dessert than alcohol.

“This is awesome.” I felt relaxed for the first time in, like, forever.

Zed gave me a quick kiss. “You’re awesome.”

I downed the drink and held out my glass. “More, please.”

Zed laughed as he mixed another drink. “A half glass, and then you’re done. Nurse this one.”

I did nurse it, but I still felt warm and tingly by the time we arrived at the hotel. As the driver helped me out of the car, the world spun briefly. Zed hopped out and grabbed my waist. “You okay?”

“Yep. Great, in fact.”

Fortunately I was okay, because the first person I saw when we turned around was Andrea Little, followed closely by her cameraman.

She ran up, posed beside our limo and immediately went into announcer mode. “We’re here at the Hilton Alexandria Old Town Hotel, where students from Edison High School are gathering for their Junior and Senior Proms. It’s a scene being played out at hotels across the nation this weekend. Only at this prom, we have a celebrity.”

She turned and took two steps toward us. “Melanie Martin, better known as the Funeral Singer, has just arrived. Mel, I understand you’ve been nominated for Junior Class Prom Queen. Very exciting.”

She shoved the microphone under my nose.

I hesitated, afraid I might say something stupid, but Zed squeezed my hand and gave me a reassuring smile. “It is,” I said finally. “It’s a real honor.” Oh, jeez. I sounded as if I were accepting a Grammy.

Lana and Bruno walked up behind us. I tried to move aside and make room for them in the shot, but the cameraman moved in closer.

“I see your date this evening is the bass player from your band, Zed Logan. Does this mean you two are an item?”

I glanced at Zed. We were an item, weren’t we? Was it official?

Zed smiled into the camera. “Just call us ‘Zelanie.’”

Andrea’s eyes widened. “Zelanie? That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

I stared at the microphone. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Zed leaned in and answered for me. “It sounds a lot better than ‘Med.’”