Take a Bow

by Elizabeth Eulberg

  I say that like we are purposely applying to the same schools.

  We are not.

  Well, at least she isn’t. I’ll admit to looking at her list before deciding where I was going to apply.

  Until recently, Emme has been my biggest rock. But the rock turned into an avalanche a few weeks ago and now I don’t know what she’s thinking.

  “Which brings us to the unpleasant matter of us giving out our charity to the rest of the school. That’s right, school musical time.”

  Everybody in the room lets his or her disgust be known. We’re required to perform in the orchestra of at least one all-school musical. It’s a requirement of the other music programs — brass, percussion, piano, etc. — so it was deemed fairest to make the composition students do it as well.

  “The first musical, A Little Night Music, is at the end of October and we need —”

  Before he can even get the words out, both Emme and I shoot our hands up to volunteer at the exact same moment. She looks at me and laughs.

  Mr. North shakes his head. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Both Emme and I agree that it’s best to get that prerequisite out of the way.

  “Well, the good news is that they need two people: percussion and bass.”

  Emme leans in. “I’ll flip you for percussion.”

  I shake my head. “You take it.” She claps her hands together. Percussion will be the far less demanding of the two. The “real” percussion students will be assigned the drum kit and major roles. Emme will just need to fill in on a triangle or timpani if a song calls for it.

  At this point, I’ll do anything to make it so she never looks at me the way she did during the summer.

  Lunch starts off eerily quiet, since Jack mercifully already did his usual pseudo-documentary account of our fates. Plus, we’re all looking over our senior thesis requirements.

  Jack throws the piece of paper on the table with purpose. “I know this may surprise you all, but I’m going to start working on this right away.”

  Ben laughs.

  “Seriously. This is exactly what I need for CalArts, combining original composition with a movie. Genius.”

  Emme looks down at the table. She gets sad every time she’s reminded that Jack wants to go across the country to school. Ben’s first choice is Oberlin in Ohio. I’m the only person who’s planning on staying on the East Coast, either at Juilliard, Berklee, Boston Conservatory, or the Manhattan School of Music. Although I did apply to the San Francisco Conservatory … because Emme has it on her list.

  But we both want Juilliard. I think anybody who grows up in New York City with a passion for music wants to go there. You’d be crazy not to.

  “Aww, come on, Red.” Jack nudges Emme’s shoulder playfully. “You’ve got the whole year to feast your eyes on all of this.” He gestures over his body and raises his eyebrows at her.

  She smiles reluctantly at him. Jack gets up and hugs Emme.

  “I swear you’re like a little lost puppy, Red. Damn you and those big green eyes. They get me every time.”

  Something catches Emme’s attention and she quickly excuses herself from the table. My gaze follows her across the room as she approaches Carter and gives him a little hug.

  Seriously, when did they become friends? We talk every day and she hasn’t mentioned anything to me about him. I thought she told me everything, but I guess not.

  Emme brings Carter over to the table. “Carter’s going to join us for lunch,” she announces. We make room for him. We’ve never had an outsider at our table before. I don’t think I like this at all. We’ve had to share Emme with Sophie all this time, and now we’ve got to fight off the Soap Stud.

  “Hey, guys, you were amazing today.” He sits down and smiles at us. “Seriously, everybody in Drama was foaming at the mouth at having to compete with you guys for the Senior Showcase. You’re totally the front-runners.”

  “Thanks, man.” Jack shakes Carter’s hand.

  “Yeah, that’s so nice of you.” Ben tilts his head at Carter slightly.

  “And I know you’re upset” — Emme rubs her hand on Carter’s back — “but you had one of the most difficult monologues to do, and I think you recovered nicely.”

  What the hell is going on? They are practically falling all over this no-talent hack. Fine, I’ll give it to Emme and Ben that he’s good-looking in that overly coifed all-American kind of way, but I expected more from Jack. Considering that Jack wants to be a composer for the big screen, I guess he sees Carter as his ticket into the business or whatever.

  I mean, okay, I liked the first two Kavalier Kids movies as a kid, but seriously …

  This is so not how I pictured senior year starting off. Granted, I didn’t suddenly expect to mature completely, but how can I possibly work on my self-confidence when I’ve got Mr. Six-Pack sitting across from me? Especially when the three people most important to me are clearly enamored of this Former Child Star?

  I don’t say anything for the rest of lunch. Not when Carter breaks out a container full of chicken breast that serves as his entire meal. Not when I notice him looking at my cheeseburger and fries in envy. (At least I’ve got something over him; I got this “body” by stuffing my face with junk food, so he can just suck on that.) Not when Emme fills him in on our senior thesis. And especially not when Jack invites him to our rehearsal this weekend at my apartment.

  I don’t say a word.

  And nobody seems to notice. Or care.

  I’m ready to put this miserable day behind me when Emme approaches me with a smile on her face.

  I smile back at her until she says, “Don’t hate me.” She pulls out The Calendar. I see Jack walking over, but as soon as he sees the all-too-familiar binder, he heads for the door.

  “Jack’s walking away.” I rat him out.

  Emme sprints to grab Jack, and he gives me the look of death as she drags him over.

  “Come on, guys,” she says, “this semester is going to be extremely complicated with college auditions, the senior thesis, and the showcase. We’ve got to figure everything out.”

  She opens up the color-coded weekly calendar that contains her academic assignments, her practice pieces, the band’s schedule, and all the deadlines to pretty much everything on earth. She refuses to put it on her phone. She also writes out all her music. Pretty much everybody in class uses computers to record or write songs. But Emme uses good old paper and pencil.

  It’s so old-school. It’s also utterly endearing.

  I love that she still does it, especially after us picking on her about it since freshman year. I’d hate for her to change that or anything else about her. Except for her opinion about me — that I’d love to change.

  She starts quizzing us on our schedules, assignments, and projects so she can figure out a practice schedule for the band.

  I may be the front man, Jack may be the charisma, Ben may be the soul, but Emme is the heart of the band.

  I think back to the time when I realized how much we needed her. How much I needed her. It was the first official fight of the band. And, of course, I was the reason for it.

  Besides being the front man, I’m the pain in the ass of the band.

  Our first few performances freshman year went okay. The sound was fine — only I was having some problems being the proper “leader” of the band. I thought I was walking into a rehearsal, but I was mistaken.

  I could immediately tell by the silence that greeted me when I entered the room that something was wrong.

  “We’ve got to talk.” Jack gestured to the seat next to him.

  I stayed standing.

  Jack didn’t seem surprised. “Okay, so no offense.”

  Generally speaking, when somebody starts a sentence with “no offense,” what follows is something that you will take offense at.

  “I mean, you know we all love you,” Jack continued, only further delaying this awkward intervention.

  I studied Ben to see if I could
get a hint of what was going on, but he was just giving me a slight smile. I could tell he was smiling so the guilt wouldn’t completely ooze off his face. Emme was worse. She was looking down at the ground; she wouldn’t even look at me. She seemed even more uncomfortable than I was. And I had thought that was humanly impossible.

  “Can you just get it over with?” I said with an even tone.

  Jack continued to be the spokesperson of the group. “Look, you’re an amazing musician and songwriter; I mean, it kills me that you’re so talented.” Now I was the one looking down at the floor. “Thank God I have the looks, because that just wouldn’t be fair.” Once again, Jack tried to lighten the mood. “It’s just that … when you’re onstage, you look miserable. You don’t move around, you don’t engage the audience, you just close your eyes and sing. We need you to be more of a … front man.”

  “Why do I have to be the front man?”

  Jack threw his hands up. “Ah, because you’re the lead singer.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I have to be the one to always speak?”

  Jack looked at Ben and Emme. “Yeah, it does.”

  “There are plenty of examples of bands that —”

  Jack wouldn’t even let me finish. “We don’t really need a lesson on Rock Groups 101. It makes the most sense and, to be honest, you never freeze up like that when we rehearse.”

  “Have you ever thought that maybe it is a little intimidating to have to talk in front of a crowd? How would you like to have all that attention on you?”

  “I’d love it.”

  “Then you do it.”

  “I can’t really warm up the crowd when I’m behind my kit.”

  My stomach started to churn. I loved playing, I loved the band, but when I was onstage, I felt self-conscious. All eyes were on me while I sang. I felt this undeniable weight on my shoulders … and a little stupid.

  “Emme should be the lead singer.”

  Emme finally looked up at me. The expression on her face reminded me of one of those girls in a slasher flick who’s about to be stabbed by a serial killer. “I can’t sing,” she protested.

  “You can sing,” I argued. “You just choose not to.” She lowered her head again.

  Jack came over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Look, you’re the best singer in the group. If you maybe opened your eyes every once in a while, you’d see that the girls in the audience like what they’re hearing. Don’t even pretend that you haven’t noticed that you’ve gotten more attention since you first sang in the Freshman Focus Showcase. Tell him, Red.”

  Emme’s mouth dropped open. “Why would I know if girls have been talking to Ethan? And, um, aren’t we getting a little off track here?”

  Thinking back to right after the showcase, I realized I had gotten more attention from girls. Kelsey had become really jealous, but I’d assumed it was from meeting Emme. She never liked the fact that there was a girl in our band, especially after she saw what Emme looked like.

  Now there was an uncomfortable silence. I knew everybody was waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t see how I was supposed to magically become this outgoing person onstage. I didn’t even feel comfortable talking in class, so I was sure the attention I received after the concert was from people who’d thought I was mute.

  Jack was glaring at Emme, motioning for her to say something. She let out a deep sigh and stood up.

  Her face matched the color of her hair. She closed her eyes and nodded to herself, her lips moving slightly. I tried to not smile; I knew exactly what was going on in her mind. I’d seen her do it a hundred times all semester. Usually she was trying to come up with a new lyric, but I wasn’t sure what was about to come out of her mouth would be music to my ears.

  She opened her eyes and approached me. She looked back at Jack and then crouched down so we were at eye level. “Ethan,” she whispered so nobody else could hear, “did I ever tell you what I thought when I first heard you sing?” She didn’t pause, as we both knew the answer to that. “I felt like I heard you for the first time. That your singing voice is your true voice. I was blown away with how strong and warm it is, like I was being wrapped up in a cozy blanket. I could never do what you do, and I don’t know how Sophie does it, either. But the thing is, I get the same feeling when I’m onstage with you that I do when I’m onstage with her. I don’t get as nervous, because we’re in it together and everything will turn out okay.”

  She got up and sat back down. Her eyes went back to the floor.

  “Okay,” I conceded. “I understand what you’re all saying. I do, and all I can really say is that I’ll work on it.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack patted me on the back. “We’re in a band, which is supposed to be fun. Plus, it’s a great way to meet hot chicks.” He shot a look at Emme. “No offense.”

  Emme sighed and shook her head. “You know, I can always join an all-female group if I’m cramping your style.”

  “Aw, come on.” Jack wrapped his arms around her. “I’m just teasing. You know we’d be nothing without you, right, Red?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said as she pushed him away.

  While I wasn’t extremely confident that I’d be able to rise to the occasion onstage, there was one thing that I was one hundred percent sure of:

  I would be nothing without Emme.

  “Ethan?” I look up to see Emme now, blue highlighter (my color) in her hand.

  Jack shakes me. “Wake up, man. It isn’t that painful. Now that I’ve done my time, I’m out of here. I’ll see you guys later!” Jack leaves me alone with Emme.

  We haven’t really been alone lately. Not since …

  I can tell she realizes it, too, because she gives me a small smile and puts her arm on my elbow. “Everything okay?”

  I nod. I don’t think what I’m currently going through would be described as being “okay,” but I don’t know what to say or do around her anymore. I’ve always been a useless dork around girls. Emme was the first girl who I never really felt self-conscious around. She was the first person to talk to me at school. She’s one of my best friends. Actually, she is my best friend.

  Yet here I am, standing across from the one person who probably despises me more than anybody. And, believe me, that list is pretty long.

  “Listen,” she says softly, giving a quick look around the hallway. “I don’t want you to think … I’m really sorry if I …”

  I shake my head. “No, it needed to be said.”

  She bites the corner of her lip. Then she opens her mouth slightly and I pray that whatever comes out of her mouth will make me feel better about myself, will silence the voices that have been screaming at me since that day. “Ethan …”

  “EMME!” Sophie’s voice blasts through the quiet, and like that, the moment is gone.

  She runs over and hugs Emme. I ache when I see how happy this makes Emme. How she can’t see what everybody else sees. That Sophie is just using her.

  “How was your first day, Em?” She puts her arm around Emme and doesn’t even bother to acknowledge my existence.

  I’m wounded by her neglect.

  “Carter told me that you’re going to be in the band for A Little Night Music?”

  And here we go.

  Emme nods. “Yeah, both me and Ethan.”

  “Really?” Sophie looks over at me and forces out a smile. “That’s so great! I’m thinking of auditioning for Desirée.”

  Wow, Sophie wants to play the part of a self-absorbed actress? That’ll be a stretch.

  “You totally should!” Emme encourages her. Emme always encourages her (or enables her, depending on who you’re asking).

  “Really?” Sophie acts surprised. “Do you think you’d help me get ready for the audition?”

  Emme looks so happy. “Of course!”

  I excuse myself. I’ve watched this play out for so long. Sophie needs Emme. Emme drops everything for Sophie.

  I’ve never understood it. But Emme a
lways stands up for Sophie. She’s her best friend after all. (That always stings a little, since I’m the one who has to wipe her tears away whenever Sophie blows her off.)

  But Sophie is the reason Emme is at CPA. And as much as it pains me, I will always be grateful to Sophie Jenkins for that one thing.

  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a worrier and that I spend too much time stressing out over stupid things. And that I don’t speak up when I should. But out of all the things that weigh me down on a daily basis, there is one item that I feel the need to finally get off my chest.

  I’ve been working up the courage to do it all day. But I forgot about one thing.

  Mr. Abs.

  Carter’s been watching us rehearse a few new numbers in the recording studio my parents built for me at the Park Avenue apartment (a benefit of being an only child).

  He’s a little too enthusiastic after every song. He can’t seem to find another word to use besides awesome.

  But everybody in the band is eating it up. Emme keeps smiling at him, Ben is practically throwing himself at him, and Jack is “totally stoked” to have him here.

  I’ve decided that I’m finally going to tell Emme how I feel tonight. But I can’t do it with Carter permanently attached to Emme like a barnacle.

  She starts to wrap her guitar cord around her arms as we pack up for the night. I quickly move toward her as Ben asks Carter about some homework assignment.

  “Hey, Emme, can you stay after so I can talk to you?”

  Her eyes dart to Carter for a moment. “Um, sure.” It comes out like a question. “I, ah, was going to …” She stops herself. “Yes, of course.”

  I think she knows this conversation has been a long time coming, and it’s best if we both get it out of the way.

  She goes over to talk to Carter, and Ben enthusiastically offers to leave with him. Jack keeps looking back between the two of us with a smile on his face. He’s had this fantasy since the beginning that Emme and I would end up together.