Not that she really cared, she reminded herself. After all, she had never been particularly interested in that strange-sounding stuff that the world-renowned composer called music. No, that wasn’t it at all.
What really hurt was knowing that she had completely botched things up with Jason forever.
Chapter Fourteen
For the twenty-third time in the past five minutes, Megan pushed a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ears. It was a nervous habit, something she did whenever she was feeling self-conscious. And tonight, if there was anything she was feeling, it was self-conscious.
“Is everything all right?” Paul asked, looking at her with a peculiar expression on his face.
“Oh, sure. Everything is fine.” She flashed him a wide smile.
“Oh. That’s good. I thought maybe you were worried about how your hair looks or something. And incidentally, I think it looks fine. Really nice, in fact.”
Suddenly Megan realized that trying to act cool, calm, and collected when she was feeling anything but that was simply not going to get her anywhere.
“Oh, Paul, I’m just so nervous. I mean, this is our first date and all.... I’ve been trying to pretend that I was feeling perfectly at ease, as if going out to dinner with you like this were the simplest thing in the world. But the truth is that I’m almost as nervous right now as I was right before I played the Mozart concerto for the competition a few weeks ago.”
“Aw, don’t be nervous, Megan,” Paul replied, sounding genuinely concerned. “You’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”
“I know.” She smiled. “And I have to admit that so far, I am.”
That was certainly true enough. Despite her nervousness over going out with Paul for the first tune, she had been in a wonderful mood all evening, ever since she had met him in the lobby of their dorm at seven. She had enjoyed getting dressed up, wearing a pretty flowered skirt and a hand-knitted top that her mother had made for her, a soft shade of green that nicely showed off the golden highlights in her thick mane of red hair. For the occasion she had put on light makeup, then pulled back her hair on both sides and fastened it in back with a green barrette. She had even dabbed a little perfume on both wrists.
And her efforts had been rewarded; as she made her grand entrance into the lobby, Paul’s face had lit up in appreciation of how pretty she looked. Several of the other boys hanging around in the lobby noticed, too. She could feel herself blushing as she strolled over to Paul and shyly said hello.
He had managed to borrow a car for the evening, a luxury that enabled them to travel to the outskirts of town to an old country inn. Megan felt very grown-up indeed as the head-waiter had seated them at a table near a back window, one which overlooked a small garden planted with rows and rows of colorful flowers. There were candles on the table and pink linen napkins beside the white china edged with pink roses. In one corner a harpist played softly. All in all, it was the loveliest, most romantic setting she could remember ever having been in.
She had been afraid that the conversation would be awkward. Instead, Paul was turning out to be easy to talk to— mainly because he was trying so hard to keep the conversation going. As they ate their salads, he told her about his background—his life story, as he called it, grinning.
He had grown up near the large city of Albany, but his family had just recently moved to a smaller town. It had been a little tough, being a new kid in school, but his outgoing personality had made his adjustment relatively smooth. Besides, he was really enjoying the chance to be more involved with nature, he told her, regularly doing things like backpacking and canoeing and just going on long walks in the woods.
He had just asked her about her interests when he noticed her constant tucking away of hair that hadn’t actually fallen out of place. But being open with him about how she was feeling, Megan discovered, made her nervousness all but vanish.
“Here I’ve been talking about myself for the past twenty minutes, nonstop,” he said cheerfully. “I guess I’m kind of nervous, too. But the truth is that I’m really anxious to find out more about you.’’
Megan shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I live in Buffalo with my mother. My father died when I was twelve. That was pretty traumatic, but I think my mom and I have finally gotten our lives pieced back together again.” She paused for a few seconds as she thought about the latest development in her mother’s life. Then she pushed it out of her mind, determined not to let her concerns about Arthur Forrester and his daughter get in the way of enjoying her evening.
“Actually, my life is pretty routine. I go to school, I work at Burger King three afternoons a week and on Saturday mornings, and I belong to two different community orchestras. That’s me, in a nutshell.”
“You left out one very important fact.”
“Really? What?”
“You happen to be the best flautist in New York State, that’s what,’’ Paul said matter-of-factly. “Where do you plan to study after you finish high school?’’
“I haven’t decided yet. Oh, I’ll try one or two of the really top schools. Juilliard, Curtis, the Peabody Institute in Baltimore. Those are my first choices, of course. I’d love to go to one of those.
“Although if I don’t get a scholarship,” she went on with a small frown, “I’ll probably have to stay in Buffalo. That way I can continue to live at home, to help keep expenses down.’’
“I can tell by the way you’re talking that that’s not what you want to do,” Paul observed.
“Are you kidding? I’d love to be able to go away to music school!” Megan cried. “Living in a big city like New York or Philadelphia, going to concerts all the time, studying with some of the finest musicians in the world....”
She let her voice trail off. “But the way things are going,” she went on sadly, “it doesn’t look as if that’s going to happen. That’s why winning that concerto competition was so important to me. I saw it as my chance to set myself above the crowd, to at least stand a chance of getting a scholarship.”
“Hey, coming in second isn’t so bad,’’ Paul reminded her. “That’s pretty impressive, too, don’t forget. Besides, you put on one heck of a performance. Don’t minimize that. You really are an incredible musician, Mozart.”
Megan was about to reply when their waiter appeared with their dinner. As she and Paul dug into their expertly prepared food, their conversation about the concerto competition was forgotten.
After sharing a dessert, a flaky apple tart that Megan was convinced was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, she said, “Wow, that was a wonderful dinner.”
“It was certainly a lot better than the cafeteria food over at Clayton College!” Paul commented with a chuckle. “But I can’t eat another thing. What about you, Megan? What would you like to do now? I thought we could catch a movie or go for a drive or whatever you want.’’
Megan glanced out the window. “Actually, since it’s such a beautiful evening and it’s still light outside, I would love to take a stroll around the grounds of this inn. That is, if the people who run it don’t mind.”
It turned out that they didn’t mind a bit. In fact, the owner was only too pleased to open up both the garden and the wooded area surrounding it to two such enthusiastic admirers. It was a cool evening, and the air in the garden was fresh and sweet smelling. Megan and Paul had fun trying to identify all the flowers they saw. And then they strolled through the wooded area, both of them enjoying the feeling of being away from civilization, at least for a little while.
They chatted on and off, but part of the time they also walked together in silence. When they were talking, Megan was absorbed in their conversation and the beauty of the trees around her. But when they stopped, she became aware of how close to each other she and Paul were. She could hear him breathing beside her as they walked, and his nearness made her feel shy and uncertain.
When he gently took her hand, however, she no longer felt that way at all.
&nbs
p; “This is nice, isn’t it? Walking like this, I mean,” he said, glancing over at her.
She nodded. “Yes, it’s really lovely here. It’s such a peaceful place.”
“I wasn’t exactly talking about the trees,’’ he said in a strange voice. This time, he didn’t look at her. Instead, he was staring straight ahead. “I, uh, I was talking about being with you.”
“Oh.” Megan gulped. Her own voice sounded odd, too, as she said, “I like being with you, too, Paul. I feel so comfortable with you. I mean, now that I’ve gotten over my nervousness,” she added with a little laugh.
“Me, too. You’re easy to talk to, Megan.”
“Really? That’s funny; I was just going to say the exact same thing about you.”
“And you have this sweetness about you. It’s kind of hard to explain. Kind of like a goodness, this gentleness that makes me feel as if you could never do anything to hurt anybody....”
Paul’s words were suddenly making Megan uncomfortable. Her thoughts were drifting back to the conversation she and Paul had had earlier. It was making her feel funny, the contrast between the compliments he was paying her and the way she had been feeling about herself lately.
Of course, she wanted him to like her. Now that she was getting to know him, she was quickly discovering that she liked him—more than she had ever liked any boy, in fact. Not that she had dated that much, not that she had had that much experience. But there was something about Paul, something she hadn’t been able to see at first but which she now recognized with ease. He was different. He was special. And she cared very much what he thought of her.
Which was why his words were causing her stomach to knot up.
And then he said, “It’s like you’re this completely nice person, through and through....”
“I’m not! I’m really not!” Suddenly and totally unexpectedly, Megan found herself bursting into tears. “I’m a terrible person! If you only knew what I’ve been doing, how awful I’ve been acting....”
Paul hesitated, then said, “Maybe you could try telling me—if you feel like you want to, that is.” He put a consoling hand on her shoulder.
“A truly nice person wouldn’t be jealous of her best friend,” she said flatly.
Paul seemed puzzled. “I don’t know what you mean, Megan.” And then he understood. “Oh, I get it. You mean Allegra.”
Megan nodded.
“Why don’t you tell me the whole story?”
Haltingly, Megan told him everything, all about how she and Allegra had quickly become such close friends, right from the start, when they first arrived at Wildwood. She told him how everything had been going smoothly—that is, until the concerto contest. She confessed that ever since Allegra had won—and she had only come in second—she could barely face her.
“I feel mean, ugly, immature, and a dozen other things,” she finished up. “I’m not at all the way you thought I was.” It was all she could do to hold back a sob.
“How about just admitting that you feel human?” Paul said gently.
“What?”
“Look, Megan,” he went on. “You wanted to win that concerto contest really badly. It was very important to you— maybe even the most important thing about this entire summer. And you just missed whining. It’s only natural that you’d feel bad—and a little bit jealous of the person who did win.”
“Even if she’s my best friend?”
“Even if she’s your best friend. Megan, I’m not an expert on human nature or anything, but I think that what matters here is not so much how you feel, but how you act. You know, what you choose to do about it.
“Look, the concerto competition is over. There’s nothing you can do about it now. You did your best, and you came in second. That’s pretty good, but you’re not giving yourself even the least bit of credit. Besides, maybe you didn’t win this one, but there’ll be other competitions in your life. There’ll be lots of other chances to perform.”
In a quiet voice, Paul added, “But there may not be as many best friends in your life who are as special to you as Allegra is.”
Megan thought for a few seconds. But she knew that what he was saying made perfect sense.
“You’re right,” she said morosely. “I know that I’ve been acting like a jerk up until now. But it’s true that if I don’t hurry up and get my act together, I may lose Allegra as a friend.”
“Now you’re talking.”
“What do you think I should do?’’
“I think you should have a long, serious, honest talk with Allegra. Tell her what’s been going on with you, and tell her how you intend to handle it from here on in. I’ve seen that girl in action, Megan. I think she’ll be able to deal with you being completely up-front with her.’’
“Yes, but can I deal with it?” Megan wailed.
“I’ve seen you in action, too,” Paul said, smiling. “And I’m certain that you can handle it, too. After all, you are pretty special.”
“I am?”
“I think so.”
Paul leaned forward and, after putting his hands gently on either side of her face, kissed her.
At first, Megan was surprised. So surprised, in fact, that she didn’t know what to do.
But it only took a second or two for that feeling to pass. And then she knew exactly what to do. She kissed him back.
Chapter Fifteen
“Okay, everybody. Just remember to follow me, pay attention, and do your best. Relax ... and try to have some fun. I have no doubt that we’re going to knock this guy off his feet!”
Steve’s instructions, delivered to Allegra and the other members of Pied Piper in a loud stage whisper, didn’t do very much to calm any of them down. They were all fidgety as they sat at one of the round tables at the Ace of Clubs, waiting for their turn to audition.
It was early afternoon, and instead of looking like the dynamic rock club this small downtown space became at night, the Ace of Clubs was at the moment nothing more than a good-sized room with a platform that served as a stage at one end and a dozen or so small tables with chairs at the other. The walls, floors, and ceiling were all painted black. The tables and chairs were red. And the only other person in there besides the five members of the band was Big Bart, the rotund owner and manager of the club.
“Come on, you kids. I don’t have all day,’’ Big Bart called over to them as they stood up and began to set up as quickly as they could. But he wasn’t really annoyed. It was just his usual brusque manner.
Besides, the group that had auditioned right before, The Rainy Days, had barely finished and gotten off the stage. They had been pretty good, although their lead singer, a young man in a black leather jacket and jeans, didn’t hold a candle to Allegra. Listening to them had made everyone in Pied Piper feel a mixture of both envy at how comfortable they appeared playing their three songs on the small stage and certainty that Pied Piper could be even better.
As Allegra took her place at the microphone, she found herself thinking, of all things, about the concerto competition. She had been nervous right before that, too, even though she kept telling herself that she didn’t really care if she played well or not. She had tried to act calm, and acting that way had helped her feel that way.
And then, of course, once it was time to go on, she wasn’t nervous at all. She was too involved in what she was doing. Performing was almost always that way, whether she was playing the violin or singing.
Now if I can only manage to remember that! she thought, amused despite herself.
“Okay, everybody. Let’s give it our best shot.” Turning to Allegra, Steve said with a wink. “Just be your usual wonderful self!”
She could feel that melting feeling in the pit of her stomach that she experienced whenever Steve paid her special attention. But this was no time for being mushy. It was time to act like a professional.
And so she put aside all thoughts of Steve as anything besides a fellow musician as Jake and Kenny burst out with the introduct
ion to the spirited number that was Pied Piper’s best song. Instead, she concentrated only on giving this performance her all.
She knew from the start that the band’s nervousness and excitement were working in their favor. Never before had they sounded this good. Their music all seemed to come together. Kenny steadily pounded out the electrifying rhythm on his drums while Mike’s fingers danced over the strings of the lead guitar. In the background was Jake’s even sound on rhythm guitar. Steve was on the electric organ, his playing more skillful and more confident than she had ever heard before. And she could hear in her own voice a certainly that made her usual sweet tones sound even more lyrical. When Steve glanced over and gave her an appreciative look, she knew that he, too, was feeling good about the way they sounded.
By the time they finished their first song, they were breathless. They were actually looking forward to moving on to the second number they had prepared. That one was much slower, a ballad that was one of Allegra’s favorites. Aside from the fact that the love song had a pretty melody, it really showed off her voice, giving her a chance to shine.
But before they had a chance to start, Big Bart stood up.
“Okay, kids. Audition’s over,” he said.
Allegra felt as if her heart had just sunk into her feet.
“Excuse me?” she said, wondering if perhaps she hadn’t heard him correctly.
“I said the audition’s over. It’s time to pack up and get out of here.”
“What do you mean, the audition is over?” she demanded, taking a step forward so that she was on the edge of the stage. “Why, you hardly even gave us a chance!”
“I heard one number, and that was enough,” Big Bart replied.
“But that’s not fair! You haven’t had a chance to hear our whole range of sounds! We do ballads, we do dance music.... Why, we’ve all put so much time into this band. Not to mention the fact that we’ve put our very hearts and souls into it! But you’re not even ...”
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