by Jen Calonita
Even though it kind of did. Ever since she had bombed her audition for her school’s a cappella group—the award-winning, top five in the state, all-girls’ a cappella group, the Tonal Teens—she had stopped singing anywhere but in her room or the shower. Julianna had taken the cut hard. She’d personally thought her cover of “Renegade” had been killer, but that just showed what she knew. Her best friend, Amy, had tried to console her.
“If you had made the Tonal Teens, then you wouldn’t have started writing, and then you wouldn’t be on your way to being a famous songwriter,” Amy had said.
Amy had been the one who’d broken the bad news to Julianna about not making the team. Julianna was the only one of her friends who hadn’t made the group, and she had taken it hard. That’s when she’d started pouring her heart out in her diary. Soon, the entries turned to poetry and she found herself writing lyrics. Amy had loved one of her songs so much that the Tonal Teens had performed it last season and won first place in the competition. Encouraged, Julianna had started entering songwriting contests. She’d lost two that year already, so her track record wasn’t good, but she was still waiting to hear from the Sounds of the Future high school songwriting contest. The deadline had been a month ago, which meant she should hear something any day.
“I still think the Tonal Teens were foolish to pass you up. I heard you practicing for auditions. You should have been named captain! Your abuela agrees with me!”
Julianna rolled her eyes. “Mom, Abuela also thinks I am going to be an Olympic beach volleyball player just because she saw me spike the ball over the net a few times.”
“You are a good volleyball player,” her mother said. Julianna couldn’t help but smile. Her mom and abuela were 100 percent supportive even when Julianna’s talents didn’t really justify it.
Her mother drove through the school’s gates to the drop-off area. “I’m sure if you try out for a singing group at Bradley, you’ll get in.”
“I think I’ll stick with beach volleyball,” Julianna teased. She was not putting herself out there like that ever again. It had been mortifying. She was sure there were plenty of things to do at Bradley that had nothing to do with music. Like archery (um, her aim was terrible)! Or sailing (she had grown up in Florida, but she couldn’t say she was overly fond of being on a boat). Or gymnastics (if she could get over her irrational fear of heights). Hmm … academics it was!
“Good luck!” her mom said as Julianna stepped out of the car. “And let me know what time you want to be picked up. Or call if you end up with plans after school.”
“I got it! You want me to make friends,” Julianna said with a laugh. “I’ll try!”
Even if I really miss my old ones. Back in Miami, Amy and Naya were starting classes too. It felt weird not to be with them, standing at the row of lockers they always decorated together. She heard her phone buzz.
NAYA: Good luck today! We miss you!
Naya had included a picture of herself and Amy. Julianna sent back a long string of heart emojis. Then it was time to face the music. She straightened her uniform’s plaid jumper (it was kind of cute) and headed to Headmistress Sato’s office. She’d asked to see Julianna before her first class, and the secretary ushered Julianna right inside. Headmistress Sato’s office had a fireplace that was probably never used (this was southwest Florida). On the mantel behind Headmistress Sato’s desk was a photo of her family that featured a young boy and a pretty girl Julianna’s own age.
“Julianna, great to see you again.” Headmistress Sato stood to greet her. “Welcome to Bradley!”
“Thank you.” Julianna blushed slightly. She hated being the center of attention.
“Thanks for getting here early today. I wanted to go over the schedule you created online.”
Julianna hoped she wasn’t getting bounced from her elective pick, a music class called From Lennon to Kanye: How Artists Have Shaped the Music Industry. She’d been looking forward to that one more than any other class.
“It’s regarding your music elective,” Headmistress Sato said, pulling up the schedule on her laptop.
Great, Julianna thought. “I took Intro to Music at my old school.”
“I know, and the elective you picked is fine.”
Julianna breathed a sigh of relief.
“But it counts as one of your electives, not your music requirement,” Headmistress Sato explained. “At Bradley, we believe arts are an important tool in broadening a student’s horizon. That’s why every student is required to participate in an extracurricular music program. You can choose from one of our choral groups, band, orchestra, wind ensemble, or marching band. Of course, you’ll have to try out for the groups, but I’m sure we’ll find you a spot in one of them.” She smiled brightly.
Julianna’s head started to spin. An extracurricular music program was something required of her in seventh grade, not tenth. “I love music,” Julianna said slowly, “but like I mentioned at my entrance interview this summer, I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of girl. I love to write songs, not perform them.” She had an idea. “Maybe I could write some music for one of the groups.”
“If you write music, you must play music too, no?” Headmistress Sato pressed.
Darn. She had her there. “Yes. The piano and the guitar, but …”
Headmistress Sato perked up. “Wonderful! You can join the jazz band. Or maybe you want to work with our Rock Monsters, which is Bradley’s very own rock group, which plays at the Bradley Café on select Friday nights throughout the school year.”
Rock Monsters? She could not picture herself rocking out onstage or marching across the turf field with an instrument.
“I’m not really into rock,” Julianna said. “I like to write show tunes. Like story songs for movie musicals? My goal is to one day be the next Kristen Anderson-Lopez.” Headmistress Sato’s expression was blank. “The Grammy-winning songwriter of Frozen who also co-created the Broadway show In Transit? I don’t sing anymore.”
“Anymore?” Oops. Headmistress Sato caught that part. “Why not? We have many choral groups you could try out for.”
Julianna closed her eyes for a second and the image of Amy consoling her when she didn’t make Tonal Teens popped into her head. “You could always join chorus,” Amy had said. General chorus was the consolation prize. Anyone could join chorus at her old school, no tryouts necessary. There were, like, forty kids in it and the song selections were always traditional (“The Hallelujah Chorus”) or had been sung to death (Pharrell Williams’s “Happy”). She didn’t want to be part of the chorus. “Are there any other options?”
Headmistress Sato’s eyes lit up. “Our all-female a cappella group, the Nightingales, is excellent.”
Julianna had put her foot in her mouth. “I meant other than choral or orchestra. I’m not good enough for a cappella.” She looked down at her hands, which were clenched tight. “I didn’t make the cut for a group at my old school.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t make the team here.” Headmistress Sato sounded like Julianna’s mother. “Bradley’s all-girl a cappella group was once one of the most famed singing groups in southwest Florida.” She frowned slightly. “But they’ve struggled the last few years and are looking for new talent. They almost didn’t have enough girls to compete last year.”
Julianna was curious. “Why not?”
Headmistress Sato’s frown deepened. “Various mishaps, but the point is, they’re looking for fresh talent. I was a founding member when I was a student here.” She pointed to a yellowed photo of a group of girls wearing blue dress suits on her mantel. “You’d have to try out, of course, but my daughter is one of this year’s co-captains. Why don’t I message her and tell her you’re coming to auditions after school today?”
“Today?” Julianna felt herself begin to perspire. She couldn’t get up onstage and sing in front of new classmates today!
She could hear Amy’s voice in her head again. “Ju-Ju, you didn’t make the first
cut.”
Nope. No way. Absolutely not. She wouldn’t. Her mom would have to find her a new school that didn’t have crazy music requirements … even if she really liked the idea of this one.
She was not a Rock Monster.
She did not do jazz bands.
The thought of those silly marching band hats and the uncomfortable chin straps made her shudder.
An alarm went off on Headmistress Sato’s desk. She shut it off and looked at Julianna. “Fifteen minutes until first period. So, we’ll see you at the Nightingales auditions this afternoon?”
“I’m not sure … ,” Julianna said apprehensively. “Is there a second tryout day, because I told my mom to pick me up today at four and …”
The headmistress was already on her phone, clearly sending a message to her daughter. “Great!” she said as if she hadn’t heard Julianna. “You’re all set. They’ll be expecting you.”
Julianna was going to be ill. “Oh, I, well, I hope my mom can …” Headmistress Sato’s phone was ringing. Julianna took that as her cue to exit.
As she left the building, she could see the campus coming alive. There were dozens of students walking to various buildings. Every few seconds someone would scream and run into another uniform-clad girl’s arms, or two guys would high-five and start trading summer stories. Julianna kept her head down and tried not to let her panic about the afternoon’s auditions take over. If she did, she’d soon be under a palm tree rocking back and forth.
Whenever Julianna thought of singing in front of people now, her hands became clammy and she got a chalky taste in her mouth. She could feel her heart start to zoom and there was a rushing sound like wind in her ears. Her instinct was always to run, hide, disappear. She told herself she was being ridiculous—people got rejected from things every day. It was one audition. But it had been a big one. She’d wanted to be in the Tonal Teens since she and Amy saw them perform during a spring concert when they were in sixth grade. Amy had gotten in. Julianna hadn’t. Was she foolish to think her voice was decent? Naya had said Julianna’s audition was excellent and she was a “sure thing.” How could she get passed over for Margot Bishop, who couldn’t even match keys?
BA-BA-BA-BUMP! THUMP! CLANG!
People stopped talking and were looking around to see where the sound had come from. It sounded like drums, but there was no sign of a concert going on in the quad and she didn’t see any sound systems outside. Maybe they played music at Bradley between classes?
“Bradley Academy! Gooooood morning!”
Around her, girls started to scream and run in the direction of the voice.
Julianna felt herself get carried along with the crowd toward a building with a balcony where a bunch of guys were standing.
A boy wearing silver shades and a uniform blazer jumped up on a chair with a microphone in his hand. “How you doing, Bradley?” he shouted. “I’m co-captain Dave Wallace, and we are the a cappella champions the Kingfishers!” Everyone in the crowd below started to cheer. “No first-day-of-school frowns this morning,” Dave continued as the guys behind him started to ooh and aah. “We are going to make you smile!”
“If you want to hear good a cappella, come listen to us,” said another guy, “not the Nightingales.” A few people laughed. Others booed.
The Nightingales. Julianna frowned. That was the group she was supposed to try out for, wasn’t it? She looked at her phone. If she didn’t get moving, she’d be late to class, but now people had filled in around her and she was boxed in. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to squeeze out of the crowd. No one was moving.
“Now, now.” Dave calmed the boos. “The Nightingales were good—ten years ago.” More laughs. “But we’re excellent. So if you’re a guy out there who wants to join an a cappella group that you don’t have to be ashamed of, try out for the Kingfishers today!”
Julianna cringed.
“And to prove how good we are, we’re going to kick off your first day back with a song,” said a tall kid with spiky blue hair.
The cheers intensified as the guys ran down the balcony steps and came to where the crowd was gathered. Julianna tried to make a break for it, but instead found herself pushed to the front in time to see a heavyset guy start beatboxing the tune of “Happy.” (She rolled her eyes.) The rest of the Kingfishers adjusted the mics on their headsets, then began to sing the familiar tune. A pale blond with hazel eyes stepped to the front.
“Hold up!” he said.
“What is it, Griffin?” Dave asked as the rest of the guys appeared to look baffled.
“Since when do we just sing one song?” Griffin asked with a sly smile. “We’re Kingfishers. Let’s layer another tune in here and make things interesting.”
Griffin started to sing “Come On Get Happy,” a song Julianna vaguely knew from some old TV show. Then “Happy” came in again and the two songs were being sung simultaneously by different parts, the harmonies layering over one another and merging.
It sounded so good, for a moment Julianna forgot she was still standing there.
“Audience participation time!” Griffin shouted. “Let’s give a girl a rare chance to be a Kingfisher!”
Before Julianna knew what was happening, Griffin had run out into the crowd. He shoved a microphone in Julianna’s face. She thought she was going to pass out.
“It’s your turn!” Griffin said as the other guys kept the harmony going. “Sing it!”
Oh no, they didn’t!
From her backyard, Lidia could hear cheering, singing, and beatboxing. Were the Kingfishers really breaking the rules already and hosting a first-day-of-school concert?
They’d promised they wouldn’t! Lidia had seen the email from Mr. Wickey himself asking both groups to tone down the pranking this season. They were also asked to avoid any performances till after auditions. Now the guys were singing in front of the whole school?
Not if Lidia had anything to say about it!
She ran across the grass, holding on to her backpack to keep it from falling off. She could see the crowd gathered in front of the cafeteria cheering. Lidia could picture smug Dave saying something obnoxious, like: “This is your chance to be part of a team destined for a cappella glory. Five-times-in-a- row state champions, the Kingfishers, will be holding auditions this afternoon! And, um, girls, the Nightingales are hosting their auditions today, but no one wants to be one of them!”
She could hear the guys singing “Happy” as she got closer. They couldn’t think of something more original to sing? she thought. Then she heard another tune being sung at the same time. One she’d never imagined the Kingfishers knowing. Was that the theme to The Partridge Family?
Lidia stopped short when she neared the front of the crowd and saw Griffin. Just the sight of him made Lidia feel like fireworks were about to erupt over her head. She watched him hold out a microphone to a girl in the crowd. Lidia’s stomach tightened. Was the girl Sydney? Lidia moved closer to see.
It wasn’t Sydney. It was a girl she didn’t recognize and she looked like a deer caught in headlights. Lidia couldn’t blame her. Griffin had that effect on people.
“Sing!” Griffin told her, holding on to the microphone so many girls were clamoring for. Then he gave the girl the smile that always made her fall for him all over again.
There was just so much to love about Griffin Mancini. From the small gap between his two front lower teeth to his hazel eyes that made him screensaver-worthy (literally, a picture of Griffin with the Kingfishers was her secret screensaver). Then there was the I-just-stepped-out-of-a-1950s-movie blond hair, which he usually swept to the side in a wave.
“I … ,” the girl stuttered. The crowd’s cheering started to wane. “I …”
“Sing!” someone in the crowd shouted.
“Grif, move on to a new girl,” one of the Kingfishers rudely shouted.
The girl just stood there. Lidia felt bad for her. This girl, who was obviously new, was being thrust into the spotlight and she clearly w
asn’t ready. Someone had to save her. Lidia didn’t want that someone to be Sydney, who was probably in the crowd just waiting for her chance to sing with Griffin. Sydney had sung with Griffin all summer. It was Lidia’s turn.
She marched up to Griffin and put her hand over his on the mic. Then she looked at the girl. “Do you mind if I jump in?”
The girl looked grateful. “Take it,” she said and quickly dipped back into the crowd.
Lidia looked questioningly at Griffin. “Go for it, Sato,” he said.
That was all the encouragement she needed. She sang The Partridge Family tune Grandma Evie had drilled into her head for years. “Hello world, there’s a song that we’re singing …”
Griffin joined her. “Come on get happy!”
The crowd cheered again and Lidia’s heart beat in double-time. She was singing with Griffin Mancini in front of the whole school!
The rest of the school faded away and all Lidia could see was her and Griffin. He stared straight into her eyes the way she’d always imagined and she held his gaze. Maybe she wasn’t as bad at this boy thing as she thought she was. Other than Dougie, she hadn’t had much practice talking to the opposite sex. She’d never had a real boyfriend before—if she discounted Michael, that guy who walked her to her locker every day for three months in eighth grade—or even a good male friend. It had just always been easier for her to fantasize about talking to guys than actually doing it. But now she was singing with a boy, so that was a major improvement.
They came to the last line of the song. “Come on get happy!” Lidia and Griffin sang in harmony. Griffin threw an arm around her and Lidia practically squeaked.
“The Kingfishers aren’t the only ones hosting auditions today,” she said, composing herself. “Try out for the new and improved Nightingales. We’re going to take the competition by storm this season—and that includes these guys.” Lidia pointed to Griffin, who pretended to look wounded. “Don’t let them fool you. You definitely don’t want to miss out on a group this amazing!” The crowd cheered. She’d done her group proud.
