Reach for the Stars

by Cindy Jefferies

  “It’s Bugsy Malone. I borrowed it from the school library.”

  “Well, maybe you can watch it later, or over the weekend,” Mom said. “Let him watch his video now. It won’t be that long before he’s in bed.” She swapped the videos and Ben climbed back happily onto his sister’s lap.

  “My one,” he told her, wriggling excitedly.

  It was so unfair. Everything was stacked against this audition. Chloe felt as if she was totally invisible. What about what she wanted?

  Ben didn’t need her. Soon he was totally absorbed in the cartoon. Chloe eased him off her lap and onto the chair. She went up to her room and stared into the mirror. Her face looked back miserably. She must never let her fans see her like this.

  She closed her eyes and tried to think herself into being Chloe the pop diva, but when she opened them again she was still plain Chloe Tompkins in a navy school sweater.

  She couldn’t fake her way through the audition like Jess said. She wanted to do it properly, professionally. It meant everything to her. Tomorrow could lead to something really big.

  3. A Good Day Ends Badly

  Chloe kept telling herself not to be nervous at the audition, but that was easier said than done. Jess was fine. But then Jess didn’t really care if she got a part or not. Chloe did care. She’d spent half the night worrying about it. Having decided that there was a possibility, however small, that someone might recognize her talent if she got a part, she really had to go for it. But her family didn’t make it easy.

  It hadn’t always been like that. When Chloe was little, her mom used to find her fun things to dress up in so she could pretend to be a pop star on TV. Her mom and dad loved listening to her sing, then. But now that she was in junior high, her mom seemed to think that being a pop singer wasn’t a proper career option anymore. She got upset when Chloe went on about it, so Jess was the only person Chloe could confide in.

  And Jess was sworn to secrecy. None of Chloe’s other friends knew anything about her ambition. She didn’t want people to think she was showing off. And she didn’t want people feeling sorry for her if she failed.

  She had to do well at the audition. She couldn’t fail the first time she tried. It would be too awful.

  As it turned out, it didn’t matter about the video. They didn’t have to perform songs at the audition. Instead, Mr. Watkins, the music teacher, made them sing scales, accompanied by the piano. Chloe was so nervous she kept her voice really quiet, so quiet that Mr. Watkins made her go through the scales twice. He made her sing much higher and quite a bit lower than the others too.

  “You ought to join the choir,” he said. Chloe blushed. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. Even if people didn’t get mad about her voice standing out in this school choir, it was the wrong type of singing. You had to sing all sorts of crummy songs and make your face sort of wobble when you reached the high notes. There was a famous girl on TV who sang that way, and she was always on programs for old people. That was not what Chloe wanted at all.

  “Okay. Let’s have some quiet,” said Mr. Watkins, when everyone had sung their scales and had started chattering. “Thank you all for coming. It’s especially good to see some of the new seventh graders turning up.” Jess grinned at Chloe, but she was too nervous to smile back.

  “I try to give the main parts to grades eight and nine in junior high productions and I have some strong contenders here. Now let’s get you sorted out.” Mr. Watkins pulled out several older children and made them stand together by the piano. Then he sent a larger group over to the window. Chloe and Jess were in this group. A few children were left in the middle and Mr. Watkins spoke to them first.

  “I’d like you to be involved backstage,” he told them. “There’s lots you can do. Costumes, scenery, props. These are all vital jobs. Mr. Thomas here will take you into room G2 so you can discuss who will do what. Okay?”

  Jess nudged Chloe. “They can’t sing,” she whispered with a giggle. A couple of older children in their group glared at her and she shut up.

  “You,” said Mr. Watkins to the group at the piano, “will play the main parts. I’ll come back to you in a moment.”

  There were grins and sighs of relief all around in the piano group. But Chloe held her breath. Her group had to be the chorus. They just had to be.

  “You kids,” continued Mr. Watkins, spreading his arms wide, “will be the chorus.”

  Chloe let her breath go. Yes! She’d gotten in. Although she would have much preferred having a solo part, even the best pop singers have to start somewhere, and at least she was going to sing onstage.

  “First rehearsal for the chorus will be next Wednesday lunchtime in the music room. So you kids can scoot off now. Well done, all of you. See you next week!”

  As they pushed their way into the corridor, Chloe felt her heart soaring crazily. She fizzed with excitement. No one had laughed at her voice! Mr. Watkins had even seemed to like it. Okay, so she hadn’t been given a main part, but that wasn’t her fault. It was only because she was a seventh grader. It was a start, a good start.

  Later on, when she got home from school that afternoon, Chloe fell in through the front door still full of enthusiasm.

  “Guess what!” she announced, tossing her book bag onto the hall floor and rushing into the kitchen. “I went to an audition today and I’m in Bugsy Malone! Jess is in it as well, and the first rehearsal is next Wednesday!”

  Her mom smiled. “Stop prancing around and tell me properly,” she said. “And watch out for Ben’s crayons. There are some on the floor.”

  “I was really nervous,” Chloe said, stooping to pick up the crayons. “We had to do scales to show we could sing okay and I could! In fact I sang higher than anyone. I sang lower, too. It was awesome! Mr. Watkins said I should join the school choir, but I’m not sure I want to do that.”

  “What is it you want to be in?”

  “Not want,” corrected Chloe. “I am in it. Bugsy Malone. You know. I got the video out of the library yesterday. I thought I would have to learn songs for the audition, but it was all right. I didn’t need to.”

  “Well, that’s all fine and good for the audition,” Mom said. “But shouldn’t you have asked us first?” Chloe stared at her mother.

  “Why? Mr. Watkins was really pleased that some seventh graders had shown up.”

  “I’m sure he was, but he’s a music teacher, isn’t he? What would your math teacher think?”

  “What do you mean?” Chloe was getting a bit fed up. She had been in a great mood when she’d come home, but now Mom was spoiling everything. “It has nothing to do with my math teacher.”

  “Well”—Mom was filling the electric kettle and plugging it in—“you’ll have to learn lines, go to rehearsals, take part in the production. All that takes time. I know what you’re like. You’ll get so carried away that you’ll skimp even more on your homework.”

  “I won’t!” Chloe slumped down at the kitchen table. “You wanted me to settle in at my new school. Well, this is settling in. I have to take part. I got chosen. And I really want to do it. It’s important.”

  Chloe’s heart was beating almost as fast as it had before the audition. Surely her mom wouldn’t stop her from being in Bugsy? She couldn’t. It would be too mean. Besides, this was the beginning of her career. She couldn’t bear it if Jess got noticed and she didn’t, all because her mom hadn’t let her take part. That would be too awful. It was hard enough to break into the music industry without her mom holding her back. She had to take every chance she got, even if it was only a school production.

  “Mom.” She put her hand on her mom’s arm. “I’ll be really good about doing my homework. I’ll work extra hard at math. I won’t let rehearsals take up too much time. I’ll do anything.” She swallowed. “I won’t let Jess come over after school. We’ll only practice on weekends. Please!”

  Her mom gave her a quick hug. “I don’t want to be mean, Chloe. And I am really pleased for you that you got
chosen. But I do worry about your schoolwork. You and Jess go around with your heads in the clouds most of the time.”

  Chloe took a deep breath. Mom would never say yes if Chloe threw a tantrum. She had to keep her temper at all costs.

  I was nervous, but I got through the audition. No way she’s going to stop me now, is there? Oh, what can I say to make her agree?

  Mom looked at Chloe’s stricken face and sighed.

  “Well, we’ll see what Dad thinks when he comes home, but I don’t think being in a musical is a very good idea at all.”

  4. The Letter

  Parents can make life so difficult sometimes. But luckily Chloe’s dad wasn’t too concerned about her being in Bugsy.

  “It would be different if she had a major part,” he said. “But I don’t think being in the chorus will matter too much. She might even work harder at her homework because she’s grateful we’ve let her participate in the show!”

  Chloe nodded. “I told Mom I would,” she agreed hastily.

  “Well, okay,” said Mom. “But make sure you don’t forget about your side of the bargain. And you’d better find out when the performance is. I’ll get a babysitter for Ben that night.”

  Chloe threw herself into the rehearsals for Bugsy. They were really fun, even though being in musicals wasn’t quite what she had in mind for a career. At least she was onstage, and singing, too. With her voice carefully under control, no one complained. She even remembered to get her homework done on time, and she and Jess restricted their pop sessions to the weekends, mostly.

  “I got eight out of ten on my math test today,” Chloe told her parents happily on Friday evening while Ben was being bathed. “Mrs. Bardley was really pleased. Oh! And I forgot. There’s a letter from school for you in my bag.” She dodged into her room and rummaged for the letter. “Mr. Watkins said he might let me sing one line solo in Bugsy!” she yelled from her room.

  “Good for you times two!” Mom said when Chloe reappeared at the bathroom door.

  “That’s a good math grade,” said Dad. “What’s this letter about?” he added, winding up another of Ben’s bath toys. Chloe handed the letter to Mom because she had dry hands.

  “Don’t know,” Chloe said. “We all got them.”

  Chloe’s mom leaned against the sink, reading the letter. “Oh no!” she sighed.

  “What?” asked Chloe. Her mom handed her the letter rather reluctantly and Chloe looked at it. At the top was a small picture of a big house, like a stately home, and just underneath were the words ROCKLEY PARK in large black and red writing.

  Rockley Park is a school for aspiring popular singers, songwriters, and musicians, she read. The school is pleased to be able to offer two scholarships to students of Beacon Comprehensive School. Students in grades seven, ten, or twelve are encouraged to apply. Applications for scholarships must be in by September 10 to qualify for the term beginning October 3.

  Chloe had never heard of Rockley Park. She hadn’t realized that there was such a thing as a school for aspiring popular singers. Surely that meant pop singers? Didn’t it? Anyway, why would they want to offer scholarships to people at her school? It didn’t make sense. It must be a mistake. Oh! But if only it wasn’t!

  She picked up the envelope and looked inside. There was another piece of paper that Mom had missed.

  “Here,” Chloe said, holding it out. Her hand was shaking.

  “Calm down,” said Mom. As if that was possible.

  “What?” asked Dad. “What is it?” Mom read the second letter and handed it to Chloe.

  “Read it to your father,” she said flatly.

  “‘Dear parent,’” Chloe began. “‘I enclose an offer we have been sent by the popular music school at Rockley Park. This unusual situation has come about because one of the benefactors of Rockley Park attended our school and now wishes to encourage any promising students by offering two free residential places at the respected music school.’” The letter was trembling in her hand so much that Chloe was having trouble reading it.

  “For goodness’ sake!” grumbled Mom. She took the letter back. “‘I should point out that the school exists to train highly talented youngsters and demands a great deal of commitment. If your child wishes to apply’. . .blah blah. . .‘they ought to see Mr. Watkins without delay as time is very short,’” read Mom briskly before tossing the letter onto the windowsill.

  “Well, that will get all the silliest girls rushing to Mr. Watkins first thing on Monday morning!” Dad said. “I bet no boys apply!”

  Chloe was still trembling. How could her dad laugh? Didn’t he realize what an amazing opportunity this was?

  Chloe had thought it was vital that she performed in Bugsy, but this letter changed all that. This was a way of getting straight to where she wanted to be, right in the music industry—or at least close to it!

  Famous people often spoke about their Big Chance. When the original star was ill and they took over the part, or they overheard something important that won them a role, or it was a mistake but they got to shine anyway and from then on they were famous. This could be it, better than any school production. Chloe’s Big Chance!

  She looked from Dad, rinsing Ben in the bath, to Mom, leaning against the sink.

  “What do I have to do?” she asked in a small voice. “How do I apply?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” said Mom briskly. She took a towel off the rail and lifted Ben out. Dad got to his feet and rubbed Chloe’s hair with his wet hand. “You’re not a silly girl,” he said fondly.

  Chloe grabbed the letter, went into her room, and closed the door. She couldn’t sit down or do anything. She was so agitated, her whole body was shaking. She had to apply. She just had to. She and Jess could win the scholarships and go to Rockley Park. They’d learn how to be pop singers and become really successful. Then her parents wouldn’t laugh. She had to convince them, somehow.

  “It did say free places,” she told them a few minutes later, putting her head around Ben’s bedroom door.

  “The school you’re at is free,” Dad said.

  Later, when Ben was in bed and she had her parents all to herself, she tried again. “I don’t think you realize how important this is to me,” she said, trying to sound reasonable. “It’s what I really want to do.”

  “It says that the school demands a lot of commitment,” Dad reminded her. “That means hard work, Chloe, something you’re not very good at.”

  “But this is what I want to do for a job,” she insisted. “Of course I’ll work hard at something I really want!”

  “But you only see the people who are successful on television,” Mom said. “For every one of those there are probably thousands who never get anywhere. Being a pop singer is a huge gamble. You should be growing out of that sort of daydreaming, and starting to focus on a sensible career, like teaching.”

  “I won’t grow out of it,” said Chloe. She was getting desperate. Her voice was wobbling, and she was near to tears. “It’s my Big Chance. You’re always telling me to be ambitious and aim high because you wasted your chance at college. Well, I am aiming high. And now I have a chance, and you won’t let me go for it.” Her mom’s face tightened, and Chloe could see she had gone too far. There was going to be an almighty argument.

  “Hang on,” said Dad. “What does it say about applying? Is it very involved? Where’s the letter?”

  “Here,” said Chloe, pulling it from her pocket. She handed it back to her mom.

  “It says the school will record applicants and send the recordings to Rockley Park,” Mom said coldly, scanning the letter.

  “If we let you do that,” said Dad, “will you be satisfied? Will that make you happy?” Chloe couldn’t speak. She nodded. “Well then,” Dad said to Mom, “let her do this recording thing and send it in. Hopefully it’ll get it out of her system, and at least she won’t be able to accuse us of not letting her try.” He turned to her again. “Does that sound fair, Chloe?”

 
“Will that be an end to it if we let you do that?” Mom asked.

  Chloe could see herself on that stage already, the microphone poised in her hand.

  No. Of course it won’t be an end to it. I’ll never, ever want to give up.

  She had never felt so excited, but she arranged her face into a quiet, grateful shape.

  “Of course it will,” she agreed. “Of course.”

  5. Chloe’s Big Chance

  “We’ll do our favorite song,” Jess told Chloe while walking to school on Monday morning. She hadn’t had any problems with her mom. She let Jess do whatever she liked. “I hope Mr. Watkins has a good karaoke machine. Let’s run. If we’re quick, we can go and see him before first period!”

  But Mr. Watkins didn’t have any sort of karaoke machine in the music department, and Jess was appalled. “It’ll sound terrible!” she muttered to Chloe when it was obvious he expected them to perform with him playing the piano. He wouldn’t let them make a recording together either.

  “You can’t apply as a duo,” he told them. “Rockley Park wants to hear individuals, not groups. Now, who’s going to go first?”

  “Me!” Jess stepped forward. After a few attempts, Mr. Watkins could play the song well enough for Jess to sing along. She was letter-perfect, but couldn’t stop giggling. They had to go through it several times before they got a good recording.

  Chloe watched and listened carefully. It wasn’t exactly terrible with the piano, but neither was it very professional. Jess was doing all the moves really well, as if she were onstage, but she wasn’t being filmed, so none of the dancing would count. It was scary. Chloe’s only chance was to get every part of the performance onto the recording. But how was she supposed to do that? If only it was a video. But they were in their school uniforms, so that wouldn’t work either. It was agony, trying to think how to do it. It was much worse than the audition for Bugsy.

  “Right, Chloe. Your turn.” In a daze, Chloe took Jess’s place next to the piano. “Are you sure you want to sing the same song?” asked Mr. Watkins. Chloe wasn’t sure about anything. She tried to think herself into her bedroom mirror, where her audience waited. Jess was nodding at her furiously.