by Kellen Hertz
“A star on the rise!” Jaya squeaked.
“I can’t believe it! Belle wrote that?” I squeaked. Was this really happening?
“Yes!” Holliday beamed. “And she didn’t just write it, she posted it on all the big social media sites!”
“Belle’s got more than three million followers!” Jaya said with an excited hop.
“Are they all going to show up?” I asked, feeling a twinge of panic.
“I don’t think so,” Holliday said, giggling, “but we are definitely going to sell out.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes!” said Holliday. “There’s more than three hundred people out there!”
I let out a spontaneous whoop of joy as Jaya, Holliday, and I high-fived.
“Dad, did you hear that?” I called to him.
“It’s what Zane and I are discussing, honey,” Dad said. His face looked pinched with worry.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. Dad and Zane exchanged a glance.
“We have an issue,” Zane said.
“It’s great that so many people have shown up,” Dad explained, “but we can’t fit them all in the store. It would be a fire safety hazard.”
I looked at Holliday and Jaya. All the enthusiasm was draining from their faces.
“But we can’t turn people away now,” I said. “Especially not after all this work.”
“We might have to,” Dad replied sadly.
Everyone started talking at once. As they did, I took a look around the shop.
And just like that, an idea cartwheeled into my brain.
“I know what we can do!” I exclaimed. “But we all have to work together—fast.”
“What’s your idea?” Dad asked. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on me, like I was about to perform.
“What if we do the concert outside, in the shop’s parking lot?” I asked. “There’s enough room there.”
“That’s true,” Dad agreed. “What do you guys think?”
“It could work,” Mason said, “but we don’t have much time to set up.”
I looked around. Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Okay,” Dad said. “Let’s do this.”
Usually, I spend the hour before a performance sitting quietly backstage, trying to stop being nervous. Not this time. During the last stretch before our concert, I felt like we’d been caught in a tornado. Aubrey, Logan, Jaya, Holliday, and I shuttled drums, gear, chairs, and cables out to the parking lot. Dad and Zane helped Mason reset the sound system as Holliday’s dad and Jaya’s mom strung Jaya’s banner over the space where we’d set up our makeshift outdoor stage.
“Wow,” I breathed, as the navy fabric unfurled and scrolling white letters became clear. MUSIC HELPS THE WORLD, it read. Songbirds, musical notes, and tiny globes danced around the words on a background that glittered like a starry sky.
“It’s beautiful!” I told Jaya.
“Well, I was inspired,” Jaya said happily.
With less than twenty minutes before the concert was scheduled to start, we were ready. Well, almost.
“You’re going to go onstage looking like that?” Aubrey said, squinting at me.
“Thanks a lot,” I said, but as I wiped sweat off my face and looked down at my grass-stained jeans, I knew she had a point.
Aubrey ran to get Mom, who came to my rescue with a duffel bag of emergency items.
As we hustled back to the storeroom to get me cleaned up, I turned to Mom. “Are you sure you don’t need to be in the food truck?” I asked.
Mom nodded. “We sold out of everything!” she said. “Besides, the crowd is gathered in front of the stage. No one’s thinking about food anymore. They want to hear some music!”
She quickly ran a brush through my hair as Aubrey set out a fresh outfit that she’d picked just for me: a pretty chambray shirt, white lace shorts, and a floppy felt hat.
“I packed you an outfit at the last minute because I thought you might need it,” Aubrey said confidently. Ever since she helped me get dressed for my show at the Bluebird Cafe, my little sister liked to think of herself as my personal stylist.
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. “Thanks for looking out for me, Aubrey,” I said, slipping on the new outfit.
Through the walls, I could hear the steady rumble of voices and bodies shifting in the parking lot.
“I wonder how many people are out there,” I said anxiously.
“Don’t worry about that now, sweetheart,” Mom replied, shaking her head. “All that matters is that you give them a great show, right?”
I nodded, and she wrapped me in a hug.
“You focus on the music and let the rest take care of itself,” she whispered in my ear.
A knock sounded on the storeroom door. I opened the door and found Logan behind it. From his nervous expression, I could tell it was time to go on. Slinging my guitar across my shoulders, I followed him down the hall to the back door. Bright sunlight blinded me as we walked out. Then I saw the crowd filling the whole parking lot right up to the stage. I recognized some kids from school and a few regular store customers, but most of the faces were ones I’d never seen before.
I spotted Jaya, who had agreed to emcee, standing next to the stage. Seeing us, her eyes lit up. “Ready?” she mouthed.
Logan and I nodded. In a heartbeat, Jaya hopped onstage and over to the lead microphone.
“Y’all ready to hear some great music?” she asked energetically. The crowd erupted into applause. “Thank you all for coming to support a cause that’s very close to my heart,” said Jaya. “The money you’ve given today will help to rebuild my cousin’s school in Bangladesh.”
I looked into the crowd and saw people’s faces light up as Jaya continued. “As you know, our opening act has some big fans here in Nashville … and you’re about to find out why. Please welcome Logan Everett and my best friend, Tenney Grant!”
My stomach was a cluster of butterflies as Logan and I waded through the crowd to the stage. The moment I stepped behind the microphone and swung my guitar into position, though, I felt rooted and alive, like I was home.
“Hi there,” I said into the microphone. “We’re so excited to be with y’all today and play our music.”
I flashed a look at Logan. He was watching me, drumsticks up, waiting for his cue.
“One-two-three-four!” I counted off, and we jumped into our first song, “Reach the Sky.” It’s spirited and passionate, and we’d figured a few people might have seen the online video of me playing it at the Jamboree with Portia. Sure enough, it got a lively response. The whole crowd clapped to the beat. I even heard a few voices singing along. It felt amazing!
After it ended, we went right into another of my songs, “Good Morning, Glory.” A few times, Logan’s tempo started to race. When that happened, I’d shoot a glance at him and he’d pull back. I hear you, his eyes told me. By the time we played the fourth and fifth songs, we didn’t even have to look at each other to communicate. It was as if we both could feel what the other one was doing—like we were speaking to each other through the music.
When that song ended, it was Logan’s turn to count off.
“One-two-three-four!” he shouted, then exploded into the driving beat for “Where You Are.” I came in after a measure, matching his fire.
I thought I was the one who should be there
I thought it would be me
Got a taste of life’s dish of unfair
You showed me clarity
You are the one by her side
While I’m here on the sideline
I looked down into the crowd and saw Holliday looking up at me. Did she realize that the song was about her? I pressed forward, looking her in the eye and urging her to keep listening. When we got to the bridge, I sang a new set of lyrics that I wrote right after I realized what a good friend Holliday could be.
I’ve been so out of touch lately
Been caught up with myself
Been taking ou
t my anger on somebody else
I’m so sorry
I know you don’t mean me any harm
You’re just being a good, good friend
Making light of the dark
Holliday grinned, clapping along as I sang the final chorus.
I just want to be
Where you are, where you are
These words can only go
Go so far, go so far
So now we have worked it all out
Thank you for erasing my doubt
I just want to be
Where you are, where you are
Finally, Logan and I snapped the song to a sharp finish. The crowd burst into cheers before I could even breathe.
“Thank you,” I said, over the applause. I looked at Logan. He was grinning at me, his eyes aflame. I told you we could do it, his look seemed tell me. I smiled back, telling him I knew he was right.
As I finally took a breath, the crowd grew quiet.
“This next song is our last one,” I continued. There were a few scattered boos, which made me smile. I looked over at Logan, knowing that he had expected “Where You Are” to be our last song. He pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Just listen,” I whispered. “And join in whenever you’re ready.”
I turned back to the crowd and scanned the faces until I found Jaya again. She was standing where she’d been from the very beginning, beaming.
“I wrote this song for my best friend, Jaya,” I told the crowd, “because she believes in helping people more than anyone I know. Working with her on this project, I’ve learned something very important—everything gets better when you share it. Like friendship, music doesn’t just make you feel better,” I said, talking right to Jaya, “it makes the world a better place. This is called ‘Music in Me.’”
I looked down at my guitar. The songbird above the strings sparkled in the sunlight, like it could fly away. I took a deep breath and started playing.
“You put your life in my dreams,” I sang, “and help things go right behind the scenes. You mean so much to me. And I hope you see …”
Logan started a slow, steady beat as I sang the chorus:
Every time I play
You’re the music, you’re the music
In every word I sing
You’re the music, you’re the music
You are the music in me
We started the bridge, and my fingers danced across my guitar’s frets. “You’ll be by my side so don’t be afraid,” I sang. “I’d rather say I tried than let this dream fade.”
Jaya was glowing as she listened to my words. I smiled at her, and when she smiled back, my heart swelled with happiness.
When the song ended, a wave of wild applause hit us. Logan and I bowed and shared a grin. As Zane took the stage to introduce Portia, we started offstage.
“That was pretty great,” Logan said, his eyes bright. “I know I said that your songs are sappy, but that new one was actually not half bad.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said. “I liked the drums you added.”
He smiled, but before we could say anything else, we were bombarded by fans asking for selfies and autographs.
Portia strummed the opening chords to her first song, and the audience grew quiet. I looked through the crowd. Between strangers, I spotted my family, Holliday, Jaya, and their parents. Everyone was swaying to the music, as if they shared the same heart. I looked up to the sky. As we sang along to Portia’s song together, I could feel the world getting brighter.
The next weekend, Jaya and I invited Holliday to join us for our “breakfast-for-dinner” sleepover. Mom made biscuits, grits, bacon and eggs, fresh fruit salad, and my favorite blueberry muffins with brown-sugar tops.
“Thank you so much for making all this, Mrs. Grant,” Holliday said, spreading blackberry jam on her last bite of biscuit.
“Well, I thought you three deserved a reward for working so hard on the concert,” Mom replied. “How much did y’all end up raising in the end?”
“Our final tally was over five thousand dollars,” Jaya said proudly. “My mom wired the money to Bangladesh on Monday. They’ve already started repairing the school!”
“I can’t wait to see photos when it’s done,” I said.
Jaya looked at me, her eyes flickering with mischief. “That reminds me, can I use your laptop, Tenney?” she asked, jumping up. “I want to show you something cool.”
I grabbed my laptop from the family room. We booted it up at the kitchen table and clustered around it.
“What is it?” I asked, as Jaya quickly navigated to her e-mail.
“A surprise,” she trilled. She selected a message from her cousin Mina and read it aloud:
Dear Jaya, Tenney, and Holliday,
Thank you so much for the amazing work you did to help my school. The money you raised covered more than just the repairs on our school building—it also made it possible for us to hold our school concert on time! Our music teacher, Miss Alimah, my friends, and I want to thank you for everything. I hope you enjoy the video!
Love, Mina
Jaya clicked on the attachment, and a video started playing. Mina and a group of her friends in white-and-navy school uniforms stood in a half circle in front of the camera with their instruments. Their teacher, who I guessed was Miss Alimah, stood off to the side. She raised her hands, and Mina and her friends got their instruments into position.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” Jaya said with a wink.
Miss Alimah signaled to Mina, who held up her esraj and ran her bow over the strings, playing a familiar melody. As her friends joined in on their instruments, I realized they were playing the song I wrote for Jaya.
“You put your life in my dreams and help things go right behind the scenes,” they sang. “You mean so much to me. And I hope you see that every time I play, you’re the music …”
Hearing the girls sing my words, I felt strange but amazing, like I was in a beautiful dream.
Jaya noticed that I had tears in my eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I managed a nod. As the girls kept singing, my heart felt like it was overflowing with joy.
“That was incredible,” I said once the video had finished. “But how did they know the song?”
“Mom recorded your performance with Logan,” Jaya said, “and we e-mailed it so that Mina and her friends could see the concert, too.”
“Thank you, Jaya,” I said.
Jaya shook her head. “We should thank you,” she said.
Holliday nodded. “Tenney, if it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened.”
“If it weren’t for us,” I said. And as the three of us shared a smile, I realized that to me, one of the only things more powerful than music was friendship.
A few days later, Zane called and asked me to come down to meet with him at his office.
“Maybe he wants to talk to me about the song I wrote for Jaya,” I said to Mom as we drove downtown to Music Row.
“Could be,” Mom said, but her eyes flashed in a way that made me suspect that she knew more than she was letting on.
The moment we sat down to talk, I showed Zane the video of Mina and her friends singing “Music in Me.” When it was over, Zane gave a low whistle of approval.
“Not too shabby,” he said, tipping his porkpie hat back on his head like he does when he’s impressed. “So how did it feel, hearing other people sing your song?”
“It was strange at first,” I admitted. “But then I loved it!”
“Yes,” Zane agreed. “When someone loves your songwriting, it’s the best feeling in the world,” he said, and we shared a smile.
“In any case,” he said, “it’s something you’re going to have to get used to, because you are very talented, Tenney. You’ve got so many songs in you that people are going to love.”
“I hope so,” I said, as heat flooded my face.
“Well, I know
so,” Zane continued. He leveled his gaze at me, his face serious. “Tenney, we’ve been working together for a few months now, and in that time I’ve watched you take on every challenge without hesitation.” He paused, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, maybe Logan threw you a few curveballs that you tried to duck, but in the end you were pitching ’em right back.”
Hearing Logan’s name made me squirm in my seat. I tried to change the subject. “Do you think I’ll get another chance to perform soon?”
“Well, ever since Belle Starr tweeted about you and your benefit concert, I’ve been getting a lot of interest in bookings,” Zane told me. “Now that you’ve got a solid performance set, I think we need to start scheduling small shows.”
“Really?” I asked. “That’s great! I love my new songs that I’ve written with you and Portia.”
“So do we,” said Zane. “In fact, I like them so much that I’d like to officially sign you to a recording contract.”
My spine went numb as pure excitement charged through me. When I looked at Mom, she gave me a knowing smile.
“Wait, you knew about this?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Zane pulled your father and me aside after your performance and asked our permission.”
“And you waited a whole week to tell me?” I exclaimed.
Mom laughed. “Your dad and I wanted a little time to review the contract and talk with a lawyer about what you are committing to,” she said. “Besides, we thought Zane should be the one to tell you.”
With a gentle smile, Zane slid a folder and a pen across the desk. “So what do you say, Tenney. Would you like to sign with Mockingbird Records?”
“Yes!” I said, grabbing the pen.
“You’re the whole package, Tenney,” Zane said, opening the folder and pulling out my contract. “I want you to take your time and develop as an artist and a songwriter. At this rate, I can see you guys being ready to record in less than two years.”
“W-wait,” I stammered. “You … guys?” I felt my breath freeze in my chest.
