Chapter Eighteen
For the first time since I joined the churchchoir, I’m late for rehearsal. Struggling with my bag straps and the books in my hand, I rush down the aisle and meet the rest of the choir at the altar.
“Rehearsal started twenty minutes ago. You’re late,” Ms. Huntington states the obvious before I can apologize and give an explanation.
The explanation, in my opinion, is very reasonable. Rehearsals for the musical ran late. Mr. Roland insists on perfection even though today was only the third day of rehearsals. Cole sang slightly off-key during the number “Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful,” and Mr. Roland demanded he sing his verse until he perfected it, and even then, his pursed lips proved he was unsatisfied.
“Something isn’t right,” he said, tapping his chin with a pen and idly strolling around the stage.
For a moment, I was positive I was the problem. After all, I missed a dance step and stumbled into Cole, who stumbled into a set designer, who then dropped a pail of paint that destroyed what would have been the backdrop of New York City. I did all that, but when Mr. Roland stopped pacing around the stage, he didn’t call me out as the problem. He simply said, “I can’t put my finger on it just yet. But I will.”
But I will.
Those words—the possibility that any day now, I’ll be singled out as the problem—make me wince.
“Enore?” Ms. Silva whispers. “Everything all right, dear?”
“Um… yes.” I shake my head and push aside my concerns about the musical. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up at school.”
“No problem, sweetheart. Take a seat.”
For once, practice doesn’t drag on. Missing the first twenty minutes definitely sped things up. In the end, after Ms. Huntington has somehow wrestled Sunday’s solo from a fellow soprano, I gather my things and head for the door. Uncle Davis promised to pick me up, but his black Mercedes isn’t in the parking lot yet. Instead, I see Davi leaning against his Toyota. The little girl beside him looks eight. She has his complexion and wavy dark hair, though hers extends to her back. She’s likely his sister.
“Um… hi,” I say, approaching them.
“Enore. Hey.” Davi’s eyes light up when they meet mine. He stands up straight. “What are you doing here? Your text—you said rehearsal for the musical was running late and you couldn’t make it to choir.”
“Yeah. It’s what I thought, but Mr. Roland finally let us go, so I took an Uber down.”
“Oh,” he says, nodding. “Cool. I’m here to pick up my grams.”
“We’re here to pick her up.” The sharp, no-nonsense correction comes from the little girl. She frowns at Davi, obviously annoyed her presence has gone ignored.
“Hi,” I say to her. “You must be Natalie.”
A flush of red hits her cheeks as her eyes expand. “You know my name?”
“Yeah. Davi talks about you a lot.”
She glances at her brother, then faces me again. “I know who you are,” she says. And just when I think Davi has been talking nonstop about me at home, Natalie says, “You’re the girl from that video—the one who sings ‘Into the Unknown.’” She tugs Davi’s hand. “Right? She is. Right?”
“Yep,” he answers. “That’s her.”
Natalie bounces on her toes and squeals at a high pitch that rings in my ears.
“Didn’t I mention my sister is a fan of yours?”
“No,” I say, laughing. “You did not.”
“You also didn’t tell me you know her.” Natalie smacks her brother’s arm, then gawks at me. “Whoa. I can’t believe I’m meeting Enore Enchanted.”
My mouth drops. I’m shocked to hear the social media name Esosa coined for me. I look from Natalie to Davi; his lips are pressed together like he’s holding back a laugh.
“Will you sing at my birthday party?” Natalie asks. “Please.”
“Um… what?”
“It’s my birthday. Next week. I’m having a party. A princess party. All my friends are dressing like any princess they want—Ariel, Jasmine, Tiana. I’m gonna be Elena of Avalor.” Natalie beams with pride, her chin lifted. “She’s badass.”
“Language, Nat,” Davi scolds with a frown and a firm tone.
“What? She is.” Her brother’s attempt at intimidation clearly didn’t work. “Anyway, will you come to my party? It would be so cool if you performed. My friends would lose their minds.” She pouts and flaps her long, dark lashes.
There is a firm no moving through the channel of my throat, on its way out of my mouth, but then Natalie’s doe-eyed expression stops it. “Um…” I look at Davi for help, but he just shrugs, and I know it’s hopeless. My resolve, flimsy as it was to begin with, dissolves completely. “Okay. I’ll come.”
“And sing?” She doesn’t miss the most crucial detail of our agreement.
“Yes, and sing.”
Again, she bounces and squeals. I’m taken aback when she rushes forward and wraps her arms around me.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You can have as many cupcakes as you want at the party.”
“Is that supposed to be my payment?”
“Yeah.” She pulls back and watches me with apprehension. “Is that okay?”
I tap a finger on my chin and think. “Will there be carrot cake cupcakes?”
“I’ll make a note to my grandma.”
“A note for what?” Ms. Silva asks, stepping through the church doors.
“My birthday,” Natalie replies. “We’re gonna need carrot cake cupcakes. A bargain has been made.”
Ms. Silva chuckles. “Noted.” She walks to the car and opens the passenger door. “Good night, Enore.”
“Good night, Ms. Silva.”
“Bye, Enore,” Natalie says, moving toward the car. “See you at my party. And don’t forget to dress up.”
“Dress up?”
“Yeah. See ya.” She enters the backseat and shuts the door.
“Wait. What?” I look at Davi. “What does that mean?”
“I think you know exactly what it means.” He grins knowingly. “You gotta look the part.”
“Oh, my gosh.” I drop my face in my palm and groan. “What in the world have I gotten myself into?”
“Relax.” Gently, he pulls my hands from my face. “It’ll be fun.”
“I’m not sure about that. She wants me to dress up like a princess. Where am I supposed to find a princess dress?”
“Don’t worry about it. I know someone.”
“You know someone?” Despite the slight anxiety I’m experiencing, I’m tempted to laugh. “You know someone who happens to have a princess dress fit for a teenage girl? Who?”
“Zane.”
I tilt my head, think for a moment, and then nod. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”
We laugh as my anxiety disappears.
“Natalie is adorable, by the way. Adorable and feisty. She reminds me of my sister.”
“Is your sister also annoying?”
“Oh, very,” I say.
“Maybe all little sisters have the same personality traits.”
“Until proven otherwise, I’m going to believe that theory.”
We laugh until Natalie pokes her head through the break in the car window and shouts, “Come on! Wrap it up!”
Davi sighs and rolls his eyes. “Anyway, do you want a ride?”
“No, thanks. My uncle should be here soon.”
As if on cue, Uncle Davis pulls into the parking lot; his headlights shine a spotlight on me and Davi, and quickly, I step away from him. I certainly don’t want our proximity to spark any suspicions in my uncle’s mind, especially since he might feel inclined to share those suspicions with my mom.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” I tell Davi, moving toward my ride.
“Yeah, tomorrow. And don’t forget about Saturday.”
How could I possibly forget Saturday? It’s the day we go out—on our first date.