Chapter Twenty
Evie
The performance is tomorrow night. Tomorrow night.
Elliot managed to snag us a concert hall for free here in Edenbury (something about the owner owing him for almost running over his dog?) and we’ve invited all of our families and close friends.
They don’t know where they’ve been invited to, though, just that they need to come.
The only thing left is for the band to show up and give them the performance of our lives.
Noah has been a complete mess the last few days.
When not at band practice, he’s cooped up in his room working on the lyrics for the new songs we hope to perform.
He wants them to be perfect because he wants to show his parents how passionate he is about his music.
He wants them to be proud of him. It doesn’t matter how many times I try to convince him that his parents will be proud of him even if the song isn’t perfect, but he doesn’t listen to me.
It’s almost like he thinks his parents being proud of him will wash away any of the guilt he feels for not following in his dad’s footsteps and becoming the next Barrington legend.
I’m almost in his room as often as he is because the dude barely eats, barely sleeps, and he almost falls behind in his homework. His homework! I don’t think he’s ever missed an assignment or test since middle school.
I can’t count how many times I try to convince him to go out and get some fresh air, maybe go for ice cream or something.
Take a break and clear his head or he’ll go out of his mind.
But he tells me—multiple times—that he doesn’t need a break or fresh air.
The only thing he needs is to stay planted on his desk chair and work on the songs and music.
We have a final rehearsal at the concert hall in an hour. Right now, Noah is at his desk reviewing the songs one last time to make sure they’re as perfect as can be, and he’s listening to a recording of the music. In my eyes, the songs and the music are a billion bucks, but try telling him that.
“Noah! What will it take to convince you that it’s beyond perfect?” I groan as I fall down on his bed and stare at the ceiling. “I bet you’ll be changing the lyrics when we’re on stage tomorrow night.”
He doesn’t say anything. He probably didn’t even hear me.
“How about we have some fun before the rehearsal?” I suggest. “Ice cream run? We can get the one they serve at Barnie’s. You know, with the thick, rich fudge you love so much? A sugar boost will be nice before the rehearsal.”
No response from him. I might as well be talking to the walls.
“No-ah,” I stress.
Still, nothing.
“Mrs. Duncan just sent me an email,” I lie. “Says we’re expecting twins!”
Nada.
“You forgot to do your physics homework.”
Zilch.
“You don’t have enough credits to graduate and you’ll have to go to summer school.”
Zilch times two.
“Oh my gosh, you’re impossible!” I get up from the bed and march over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around in his chair.
“What the—?” He blinks at me. “Evie? How long have you been here?”
I stare at him. “Are you telling me you didn’t realize I was here?”
“Um…no? How long were you here?”
“Like fifteen minutes. How could you not remember I was here? You even nodded to me when I walked in.”
“I guess my head wasn’t here. Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to look over the songs one more time—”
“No, no, no! We’re going for ice cream to relax before the final rehearsal.”
“Evie, you’re not supposed to have dairy before you sing.”
“Ugh, seriously? You suck the fun out of everything.” I carefully snatch away the notebook with the lyrics before he can get back to them and hold it behind my back. “Look at me, Noah.”
“I don’t have time—”
“Look. At. Me.”
With a sigh, he does.
“I get that you’re nervous and want to impress your family, but this isn’t healthy for you.
You’ve spent the last few days agonizing over this performance, but you have to let go.
You can’t control everything, Noah. Whatever happens tomorrow night will be okay.
Just have faith in yourself and in the band. And in your family.”
He keeps his eyes on me for a bit, trying to digest my words.
Then he shakes his head and is about to say something, when the alarm on his phone goes off.
After sweeping it off his desk, he scans the screen and stands.
“We need to head to the hall. Mr. Tabbitt is going to meet us there and I don’t want to be late. ”
“The owner of the hall will be there to listen to us? But I thought you already showed him one of our videos and he liked what he heard.”
Noah shrugs. “I guess he wants to hear us live? I’m going to text the guys to get moving. I don’t want to give Mr. Tabbitt any reason to be disappointed in us.”
We wait outside for Elliot to pick us up in the van. When it arrives, Mateo and Wyatt are already inside, their faces flushed with excitement.
“I can’t believe we’re putting on such a huge performance,” Mateo says. “It’s kind of like our first concert.”
“Drive, Elliot,” Noah instructs. “I want to get there early enough to set up before Mr. Tabbitt meets with us.”
Elliot holds up his hands. “Geez, man.” He steps on the gas and drives us to the concert hall. Even though I stole Noah’s lyrics notebook, he has a copy on his phone and spends the ride looking it over.
This guy…Seriously.
We arrive at the concert hall, and with the help of the crew, we unload our instruments and equipment. Then we walk inside, each of us marveling at how amazing the place is. It’s an actual concert hall that hosts actual musicians and bands. I can’t believe we’re here.
“This is like a dream come true,” Elliot says as we start setting up. “I hope this helps launch my music career.”
“You throwing us away already?” I joke.
“Of course not,” he says. “But none of you want to pursue a music career. Other than Noah.”
Wyatt claps Noah on the back. “Football will miss you, man, but we’re happy you’re going after what you want.”
“You okay, man?” Mateo asks Noah.
He nods, his mind somewhere else.
I groan. “Come on, Noah. You should enjoy the moment and not stress out about it. Because this place right here?” I gesture around. “It’s incredible. It would be a shame to not soak in every single moment.”
He snaps in. “You’re right. I’ll try.”
“Mic test,” I say as I walk up to the mic. “Testing, testing. One, two, three. You hear me up front? Awesome. You hear me back there? Awesome. What about you guys over there? Hear me well?”
“Evie, no one’s there.” Wyatt chuckles.
“But they will be in twenty-four hours,” Elliot says with a nervous laugh.
“We’re all set up,” Noah says as he gathers his guitar in his arms. “Let’s start playing so Mr. Tabbitt could see how serious and dedicated we are.” He nods to me. “Ready?”
“Oh heck yeah,” I say.
Elliot gives us a beat and off we go singing the first song.
I have to say, some of the songs Noah has written were fire, but this one?
Holy cow. It’s better than anything he’s ever written before—at least from what I’ve heard.
It talks about being lost and confused and wanting desperately to follow your dreams, but being too afraid to do so.
It mentions wanting to make your parents proud of you but worrying you’ll disappoint them.
Then it ends with making the hard and sometimes selfish decision of doing what is best for you and hoping that the people you love will accept and support you.
Obviously, it’s about Noah and is written to his parents. Even though it’s not a love song, it’s super emotional and something everyone can relate to. And the way Noah sings it with so much feeling? It’s sure to be a mega hit.
As the song comes to its conclusion, someone claps from the audience area. We all twist our heads to the right and left looking for the person—it’s so hard to see with the bright lights—and then he steps closer.
“Mr. Tabbitt,” Noah says, stopping strumming his guitar. “Sorry, we didn’t realize you were watching us.”
He waves his hand. “Nonsense. I’m glad you didn’t stop. You kids are amazing.”
Noah’s face shines with relief. “Really? Thanks. Thanks so much. We practiced so hard and—”
“Listen,” he says with a grave expression as he moves closer to the stage. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
Noah’s face falls. “Bad news?”
He holds up his hand with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, but you kids won’t be able to perform here tomorrow night. I booked another band.”
We all gape at him like his words don’t make sense in our heads.
“You…what?” Noah whispers, completely befuddled.
“I apologize. I truly am sorry. But considering this is a favor and it won’t be bringing me in any income…” He shrugs helplessly. “It’s a Saturday night, kids. I can’t afford to put on free performances.”
“We’ll pay you,” I say. “Whatever it costs, we’ll pay.”
He shakes his head. “I doubt you can afford this place, honey.”
“Did he just call me ‘honey?’” I mutter.
“You’re just throwing us aside like an old torn shoe?” Elliot demands. “You promised me we could perform here.”
The man frowns. “I know. And like I said, I apologize. But I already booked the other band—”
“This isn’t cool, man!” Wyatt says. “We practiced our butts off. Our families and friends are coming.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?” Mateo asks.
Mr. Tabbitt shakes his head. “There isn’t.
” His eyes sweep over our equipment. “I’ll give you some time to clear out the place.
Please be gone within the next hour so the other band can set up.
” He looks at us with a regretful expression.
“Maybe another time, when you guys could afford a place like this?” He gives us a small smile before turning around and walking away.
The guys exchange glances with each other, but my gaze is on Noah. His chest rises and falls heavily, a look of extreme loss on his face. Failure. Worthlessness.
“We’re not giving up without a fight.” I grab Noah’s hand and pull him off the stage. “Mr. Tabbitt!” I call as we follow him outside into a small hallway.
He turns around and sighs. “Look, kids, I’m really sorry—”
“Save the BS,” I say. “You agreed to let us perform here, and you need to keep your word.”
He lifts his hands again. “Believe me, if there was something I could do—”
“Do you have any idea how hard he worked to make this performance spectacular?” I throw my thumb in Noah’s direction.
“He barely ate, he barely slept, he didn’t even want to go for ice cream!
I’ve never met anyone as determined and dedicated as Noah Barrington.
We might not bring in money tomorrow night, but I assure you that after our performance, people will beg you to have us again. ”
“Look, kid—”
“The Rock’n Jocks are amazing,” I say. “One of the most amazing bands in the whole world. Want to know why? Because we’re talented.
We’re driven. We’re young and we’re fresh, and Noah and I are magic on stage.
You heard us. You know exactly what I’m talking about.
And you’re throwing us away because of money? ”
“This is the real world, kid. And in the real world, things aren’t so simple. I have a reputation to uphold. And having an unknown band perform…it’s a big risk. You’re old enough to understand that.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Reputation? Is that what you’re worried about?
” I fold my arms over my chest. “I know someone who works for the Edenbury Press. I wonder what she’ll say when I tell her what went down tonight at this beautiful concert hall.
Noah, you think people will be happy to hear how this guy tossed us aside last minute after promising we could perform here?
After we spent days and blood, sweat, and tears working on the perfect performance?
I wonder how much money this place will bring in after that. ”
Noah gapes at me like he can’t believe these words are actually coming out of my mouth. Truth is, I’m not sure I believe it either. I must be possessed or something.
The guy’s face is sheet white. “The…the Edenbury Press?” he stammers.
“Yep.” I narrow my eyes at him. “And she can destroy you.”
Sweat gathers at his temples. With shaky lips, he puts on a smile. “There m-must have been a misunderstanding. Of course you kids are performing here tomorrow night. We’re glad to have you and look forward to working with you again in the future.”
As shaky as a leaf in the wind, he whirls around and bolts away.
Noah stares at me with humongous eyes. “Evie…”
“The nerve of that guy. Can you believe him? Unknown band. Everyone has to start somewhere. You’ve worked so hard for this and he just threw it in your face—”
Noah grabs me by the waist and plants his lips on mine.
I’m startled and am about to push him away, but then my body softens and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him back.
Our lips move over each other’s hesitantly, shy and uncertain and curious, but then they start to move a little fervently, as though something is building between us.
Something that is new and scary and wonderful and terrifying.
Noah gathers me closer to his chest, holding me carefully and gently like I’m something special he doesn’t want to lose. His arms are strong and protective, but they’re soft, too, and warm and perfect.
I’ve never kissed anyone before, and this right here? Oh my gosh.
Then it dawns on me that I’m kissing Noah Barrington. My unofficial nemesis. The guy I’m supposed to dislike.
Noah must realize it at the same moment because we both push away from each other.
“S-sorry,” he says, his face bright red. “I was…I mean…this was…”
“Stupid,” I say with a nervous laugh, my cheeks scorching. “Silly. Our emotions are high and we were just caught up in the moment…”
He nods so fast his head might snap off. “Yeah. Totally. Caught up in the moment. Of course.”
I nod just as fast as him, my head moments from snapping off, too.
We both stand here in silence. Extreme, awkward silence.
Noah forces a laugh. “Thanks for…you know. You saved our butts.”
“Well, I’m part of the band, so…”
He nods again, a frown forming on his lips. “You do know my mom doesn’t have that much power at the Edenbury Press…”
I raise my chin. “He doesn’t have to know that.”
Noah stares at me with wide eyes. Then he chuckles. “No, he doesn’t.” He opens the door and jogs inside, calling out to the rest of the band, “Hey, guys! You won’t believe what Evie just did.”
I slowly bring my fingers to my lips, the feeling of Noah’s lips pressed against them invading my mind. That was…that was….well, it was something all right. But it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t have.
Caught up in the moment, just like I said. That has got to be the only explanation…
Right?