“You want to take a break?” Shannon asks.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, setting down my guitar.
I follow her into the kitchen, where she pours us both a cup of chamomile tea with honey. We sit together, neither saying a word, listening as the neighbors’ kids race across their floor upstairs.
“Is everything okay, Bird?” she finally asks, genuinely concerned. “You seem… distracted today.”
I take a sip of tea and finger the bamboo place mats. “I’m a little down, I guess. My brothers are moving away so that means, you know, the family band is officially splitting up.”
Shannon nods knowingly. “That’s tough.”
“Yeah.” I take another drink, follow its warmth to my belly, and sigh heavily. Everything feels fuzzy, out of control, wrong.
“Can I do anything to help?” she asks.
I smile at her. My relationship with the Crossleys is one of the best parts about landing my record deal. “It just feels like everything in my life is going wrong except for the music, you know? And now, I can’t even get that right.”
I grab my lucky rock, rolling the pendant between my thumb and index finger, but I don’t feel any better.
“Bird, has there ever been a day, through all of this, when you’ve gone to the studio or come over here and haven’t felt like singing?” Shannon asks.
“Yeah,” I admit.
“And what did you do?” she asks.
“I sang anyway.”
Shannon smiles. “Exactly.”
I feel a spark. My mind clears. I get up from the counter and walk briskly into the living room. I grab my guitar and my journal, scribbling across the page and picking out a few chords. The chorus writes itself before Shannon can even get back into her chair. I sing, I play, and my world regains clarity—thanks to the music. Always thanks to the music.
“You ready, Bird?” Jack calls from the booth.
I pull on my headphones in the live room and give him a thumbs-up. Dan and Anita are here today, along with my dad and Shannon. Usually, I would be nervous about the crowd, about the fact that the president of my label is itching for another hit to finish my album, but I’m not nervous. I’m confident.
We’re calling the album Wildflower. It was my idea. A nod to my mom, who loves wildflowers so much that she named me after a random president’s wife, but also a nod to Adam, who saw the sweetness in that, even if it makes me heartbroken now.
I don’t know what this year will hold, I don’t know how Wildflower will sell, and I don’t know when my heart will mend. But I do know now that through it all, I’ll “Sing Anyway.”
The music flows through my headphones, and I step up to the mic. I close my eyes and sing:
“I shake the sleep from my head,
I drag myself out of bed,
You’re still gone.
My heart can’t handle this pain,
How do I sing in the rain?
The mic’s on.”
Jack doesn’t stop me, so I keep going. I sing for what I almost had with Adam but lost. I sing for the years when I lived on the road with my family and for the months to come, on the road with a whole new family of sorts. And for once, instead of worrying about what the label will think, I sing for me.
“All right,” Jack says as the last notes of the song fade out. I open my eyes and look at him through the glass, waiting for direction. “That’s a wrap.”
Confused, I ask, “That’s it?” There are usually so many more takes.
“You nailed it,” he answers simply. “Sometimes it happens that way.”
Anita and Dan are talking enthusiastically behind him, already plotting the next steps for the rise of Bird Barrett, I’m sure. Jack grins up at me and plays my song back over the speakers, nodding along as if it were his baby. My dad and Shannon smile proudly at me from behind the glass and gesture for me to join them.
I take off my headphones and hook them over the music stand for the last time for a while, a bittersweet feeling as I prepare to leave the studio. Such a short time ago, this was all new to me: the fancy mic, the booth, the mixing, all the opinions. Now the studio feels like a refuge, and if what Anita tells me is true, things are about to get a whole lot crazier: sold-out arenas, screaming fans. It sounds intense, but I’m excited about sharing my music with the world.
And as much as I love Nashville, it’s time to get back on the road.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I must begin this page by thanking my youngest son, Rhett. When you were only three weeks old, I started writing this book. We didn’t have the luxury of lounging around the house snuggling or taking naps together like I was able to do with your big brother, but you have always been a go-along guy and you were (literally) right by my side as I typed quietly next to you.
And to my two-year-old son, Knox, I have to thank you as well, because when a new baby and a new book came into our lives at the same time demanding your momma’s attention, you adapted so easily it was as if our lives hadn’t changed at all.
And to my husband, Jerrod, thank you for encouraging me to take this project and for believing that I could manage it all when I really didn’t think I could. I thought I’d miss every baby milestone, every manuscript deadline. I thought I would let everyone down.
Which leads me to my agent, Alyssa Reuben at Paradigm, who has faith in me when I don’t always have it in myself. Thank you for believing in me and having my back always. You are the best in the biz.
To my friends Pam Gruber and Elizabeth Bewley at Poppy, thank you for being my champions on this project. You were right—it was the perfect fit. And, Pam, your editorial instincts are spot-on.
And to my new friends, Kathryn Williams and Dan Tucker at Aerial, thank you for late-night phone convos and data-loss-recovery assistance. But mostly, thank you for trusting me with your concept. I love this book, these characters, this story—our team. And I’m so glad that Alissa Moreno lent her songwriting expertise to Bird’s big hit, “Notice Me.” I love that song!
There are few people I trust to care for my children, and I am so blessed to have had you in our lives as I wrote this novel. Glen and Vicki Whitaker, Kim Pace, the Rodie family, Jesse Szombathy, Jeanne Kullas, Lacy Bove, Miss Barbara, Melissa Mott, and the Mendez family—you are all very special to us.
There are few people I trust to care for my novel, but I have also been blessed in this area. To Bobbie Jo Whitaker, to whom I must give credit for the killer “Bon Jovi” line, thank you for your insight and honest yet tactful feedback.
To Becky Bennett, Vicki Whitaker, and Cindy Johnson, thank you for saying, “Keep writing! We want more!”
To the insanely attentive copy editors at Little, Brown, Wendy Dopkin and Chandra Wohleber, thank you for being rock stars at your jobs. The “lol” comments and smiley face emoticons went above and beyond.
And to my own personal copy editor, Loretta Fryman, thank you. And, yes, we are still on speaking terms.
And to my fellow writers Micol Ostow, Melissa Walker, and Katie Sise, I can’t tell you how much I treasure breaks between deadlines with y’all, talking Books ’N Babies. And shout-out to my Bestie from the Westie, Cat Patrick.
Every good piece of contemporary fiction requires authentic details to ground it in this world. I must give Research Thanks to my Facebook friends for commenting on everything from colloquialisms to bluegrass bands.
Thanks to my Nashville tour guides Gary Dempsey, Annie Johnson, and Victoria Schwab.
Thanks to Darla Maguet for knowledge on all things homeschooling.
Thanks to David Hansen at McMahon RV in Irvine, CA, and to Jim Knestrick of Knestrick by Design and Karen Rippy of Zia Florist in Nashville, TN.
And thanks to Mamaw and Papaw fo
r being my #1 Fans since the day I was born. This book is for you.
Big Props to my Pop Culture Peeps: Chad Schwalbach, Matt and Katherine Whitaker, Whitney Grannis, Liss Marie Mendez, Becky Bennett, Lisa Mantineo, and especially to my niece, Haleigh Maguet, and nephews Zach, Camron, Kaleb, Ethan, and Seth Maguet.
And to my readers, I hope you enjoy this series. Thank you for supporting me. Bird has great fans, but I have the best in the world.
Jeremiah 29:11
TURN THE PAGE FOR
THE COMPLETE LYRICS
AND SHEET MUSIC FOR
BIRD’S HIT SINGLE,
“NOTICE ME.”
NOTICE ME
VERSE
Maybe you like me, or do you like me not?
May be wishful thinking, but wishin’s all I’ve got.
Time to hit the pavement, on the road again.
Have you ever dreamed of being more than friends?
PRE-CHORUS
Oh, maybe it’s insane.
We’ve got so much that’s changing,
And nobody knows where this could go.
CHORUS
If I’m a wildflower,
Then you’re the blowin’ breeze.
I could get swept away,
Don’t know where you’d take me.
And maybe we could shine
So bright in the sunlight.
Is it real? Do you see?
Say you notice me.
VERSE
You’re shooting for the stars, I’m over the moon.
Life takes us in circles, and we’re always on the move.
There’s so much to say here, so much more to do.
I don’t even really know if it’s about me and you.
PRE-CHORUS
Oh, I wanna try it.
Maybe shouldn’t fight it.
Who knows where this thing could go?
CHORUS
If I’m a wildflower,
Then you’re the blowin’ breeze.
I could get swept away,
Don’t know where you’d take me.
And maybe we could shine
So bright in the sunlight.
Is it real? Do you see?
Say you notice me.
BRIDGE
[FIDDLE SOLO]
CHORUS
If I’m a wildflower,
Then you’re the blowin’ breeze.
I could get swept away,
Don’t know where you’d take me.
And maybe we could shine
So bright in the sunlight.
Is it real? Do you see?
Say you notice me.
Notice me. Say you notice me.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Acknowledgments
The Complete Lyrics and Sheet Music for Bird’s Hit Single, “Notice Me”
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. Although some celebrities’ names and real entities and places are mentioned, they are all used factiously.
Copyright © 2014 by Alecia Whitaker
“Notice Me” music and lyrics © Alissa Moreno
Cover image © 2014 by Dustin Cohen
Cover hand-lettering by Mary Kate McDevitt
Cover design by Liz Casal and Alison Impey
Cover © 2014 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Poppy
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
lb-teens.com
Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company.
The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Wildflower was conceived by Kathryn Williams and developed by Aerial Publishing LLC.
First ebook edition: July 2014
ISBN 978-0-316-25136-5
E3
Wildflower Page 21
