Wish You Were Eyre

  “I understand you have an examination scheduled for Thursday,” she says as the bell finally rings. “I’ll be holding review sessions every afternoon this week for those who wish to prepare. I encourage you all to attend.”

  She hands a schedule to each of us as we file out of the room. I glance down at it; unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to make it to any of the review sessions. This afternoon I have my audition, tomorrow is my regular voice lesson, and on Wednesday I snagged a slot on the sign-up sheet for Emma and me to see the Crandalls’ new baby. Looks like I’m going to be on my own for this test.

  The rest of my classes zip by, and before I know it it’s time for my audition. Adele and Savannah and I meet up in the living room of Elliot and walk over to the Arts Center together. None of us says much on the way. We’re all nervous.

  We warm up with the rest of the MadriGals in one of the classrooms, and then the auditions start. My name is called first. I can feel my heart pound as I walk into the music room. Mr. Elton, our choral director, smiles at me, and I flash him a quick smile in response. I take my place beside the piano, swallow hard to try and settle the butterflies, then nod at the accompanist.

  “Listen, breathe, connect,” my voice teacher told me last week. I take her advice and close my eyes, really listening as the pianist plays the last few bars of the lead-in to the piece I chose. “Dreaming” is an old-fashioned song that hasn’t been popular for about a hundred years. My grandmother brought the Betsy-Tacy Songbook with her when she visited us last Thanksgiving, and I found it in there. I really like it, and it’s different, which I’m hoping might give me an edge. People tend to pick the same old Broadway numbers and stuff.

  The tempo is andante—slow—the melody tender and bittersweet. I cling to that mood as I take a deep breath and launch into the first verse. “Out in the still summer’s evening, into my heart comes a feeling . . .” Concentrating on the lyrics as I sing, I try and imagine myself many years from now, thinking back on my life. “Dreaming of days when you loved me best, dreaming of hours that have gone to rest . . .” I connect to the song in a way I never have before, and I can feel my eyes swimming with tears when I’m done.

  “Thank you, Jess,” says Mr. Elton quietly. “Well done.”

  This is high praise from Mr. Elton, and I leave the music room floating on air.

  “How’d it go?” asks Savannah.

  I shrug. “It’s hard to tell, you know? I gave it my best.”

  “You totally deserve a spot this year,” Adele whispers to me after Savannah’s name is called and she heads into the music room.

  “Thanks,” I whisper back. There’s no way of knowing who’s going to get picked, though. There are only a handful of solo spots, and the upperclassmen tend to snag most of them. Mr. Elton usually picks a few people for some duets and trios, too, and one of those would be great, as far as I’m concerned. Especially after last year, when I was completely shut out of everything.

  “I’ll meet you guys out in the hallway afterward, okay?” I tell Adele. “I promised I’d call my mom.”

  She nods, her eyes glued to her sheet music.

  I grab my jacket and leave the room. After I talk to my mother, I call Emma. The two of us made a pact a couple of years ago: BFBB. Best friends before boyfriends. We both try really hard to honor it.

  “You’re going to get a solo, I just know it,” she tells me.

  “Thanks, Em,” I reply. We arrange to meet at Elliot after school on Wednesday for our visit with the Crandalls, and I hang up.

  There’s a text waiting for me from Darcy: SECRET LIBRARY RENDEZVOUS THIS WEEK?

  I smile. The thing is, Colonial Academy students aren’t allowed off campus in the evenings without special permission. During the week we can go into town after classes, but everybody’s due back at the dining hall by dinnertime, and the gates are closed after that. There’s only one exception, and that’s if you request a pass to the Concord Library, which is just across the street.

  Darcy never has time to see me in the afternoons, because he’s a three-season athlete and always has some practice or another—football in the fall, hockey in the winter, and baseball in the spring. So we’ve figured out a way to see each other during the week, by meeting at the library. I feel a little guilty about it, but it’s not like a real date. We just happen to meet up and sit next to each other while we do our homework together, that’s all.

  THURSDAY WORKS FOR ME, I tell him, adding that the audition went well. My calculus test will be over by Thursday, too, so I’ll be able to relax a little, I figure. As much as I can relax, what with the audition results being posted Friday morning.

  YAY YOU! he texts back. SEE YOU THURSDAY—SAME TIME SAME PLACE! XOXO

  Tuesday drags by, complete with another dull-as-dishwater math class with the decrepit sub. Mrs. Adler is cranky as well as ancient, and she snaps at me several times when I’m slow in answering a question. I think she’s mad that I didn’t come to yesterday’s study session, even though I told her about the audition.

  I don’t make it to this afternoon’s session, either, thanks to my voice lesson, and I end up staying up really late struggling with our homework assignment. The problems are tough, but I finally manage to plow through them. On Wednesday, Emma comes over after school as planned, and the two of us head to Witherspoon, the eighth-grade dorm, to see the Crandalls.

  Trevor couldn’t be cuter, and Maggie is proud to be a big sister. “My baby,” she keeps telling me as I take a turn holding him, and I nod solemnly in agreement.

  “That’s right, Maggie. He’s your little brother.”

  “Brudder,” she echoes. I can’t believe she’s three already—and that I’ve been here at Colonial nearly as many years.

  “How’s calculus class going, Jess?” asks Mr. Crandall.

  I shrug. “Okay.”

  “I hear that my replacement came out of retirement to help out.”

  It wouldn’t have surprised me to hear that she came out of the crypt, not just retirement. “Yeah. We really miss you.”

  “Hang in there just a few more weeks and I’ll be back,” he says. “Meanwhile, feel free to drop by if I can help you with anything.”

  I nod. “Thanks, I may do that.” I hand Trevor back, then hug Maggie good-bye.

  As Emma and I are crossing the quad, we run into Mrs. Chadwick, who tells us she’s just been in an alumni board meeting.

  “Good heavens,” she says, spotting a figure in an ankle-length black cape creeping toward the dining hall. “Is that Bernice Adler?”

  “Uh-huh,” I reply.

  “Whoa, scary,” says Emma. “Who is she?”

  “The calculus sub I was telling you about,” I tell her.

  “Bernice is subbing?” exclaims Becca’s mother. “She taught math when I was here!”

  Emma and I gape at her.

  “Wow, she really is old,” I say.

  Mrs. Chadwick smiles. “Thanks a bunch, Jess.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Mrs. Chadwick laughs. “I know you didn’t.” Her gaze drifts back toward Mrs. Adler. “Bernice was ancient even when I was a student. Or at least we thought she was. Poppy Sinclair and I used to call her the Battleaxe. You know, since her initials are B. A. and since she’s kind of—”

  “Crabby?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s with the cape?” asks Emma, watching as Mrs. Adler disappears inside the dining hall.

  “She’s always worn one,” Mrs. Chadwick replies. “It’s her fashion statement, I guess.”

  “Um, and what exactly would that statement be?” says Emma. ‘My other car is a broom,’ maybe?”

  “Emma!” Shocked, I glance over to see if Mrs. Chadwick is offended. She’s laughing again, though.

  Mrs. Chadwick offers to drive Emma home, and I say good-bye to them at the entrance gates. Afterward I stop by the dining hall for a quick dinner—steering well clear of the faculty table where Mrs. Adler is sawin
g away at a pork chop—then head back to my dorm to study for tomorrow’s test.

  It’s a long evening. I think about going over to Witherspoon to ask Mr. Crandall for help, but then I decide not to disturb him. I know that new parents don’t get much rest or quiet time. Instead, I call Darcy. He’s taking calculus as well, and even though we’re not studying the same units, he’s able to help me with most of my questions. The rest I just have to figure out for myself. In the end, I don’t get to bed until after midnight, but I feel as prepared as I’ll ever be.

  Thanks to my marathon study session, I sleep through my alarm the next morning.

  “So nice of you to join us, Miss Delaney,” says Mrs. Adler, her creaky voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Sorry,” I murmur, sliding into my seat. Battleaxe. I smile at the memory of Mrs. Chadwick’s nickname for her.

  Mrs. Adler looks at me sharply. “Is something amusing, Miss Delaney?”

  I wipe the smile off my face. “Uh, no, Mrs. Adler.”

  She makes a big point of waiting until I’m settled, then shuffles down the aisles, passing out the tests. “Please keep your examinations facedown on your desk until I tell you it’s time to start.” Returning to her seat, she looks up at the clock. “You may begin.”

  I can feel Mrs. Adler’s eyes on me as I turn my test over. It’s unnerving, and I fumble with my pencil. It drops and rolls under my neighbor’s chair.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, bending down to grab it.

  Mrs. Adler’s eyes narrow. I hold my pencil up, to show her I was just retrieving it, then turn my attention to the exam on my desk.

  We’re allotted a full hour, but I finish in forty-five minutes. Surprised, I look around to see if anyone else is done, but every head in the room is bent over in concentration. I go back over the questions to see if I’ve missed anything. After double-checking my answers, I stand up, grab my backpack, and walk to the front of my room.

  Mrs. Adler raises her bristly eyebrows as I hand her my test. “That was surprisingly swift, Miss Delaney,” she says, her raspy voice as sharp as a paper cut.

  Not sure how to respond, I mutter, “Yeah, I guess,” and head out of the classroom.

  I can barely sit still through the rest of the day’s classes. It’s a huge relief to have the test out of the way, plus I’m excited about seeing Darcy tonight. Our library rendezvous are one of the highlights of my week.

  After dinner I go back to my room to change into a clean shirt.

  “Where are you off to?” asks Savannah, watching me brush and rebraid my hair.

  “Library,” I tell her.

  She gives me a look but doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t ask which library. I haven’t told my roommates about my secret meetings with Darcy, but I think Savannah suspects. Not that it’s that big of a deal, and not that she’d say anything, anyway. Even if she is on Colonial’s Community Justice Board. Savannah was the only sophomore to get elected this year—all the other members are juniors and seniors. It’s considered a big honor. But going to the library is hardly the kind of thing that gets you hauled before the CJB, even if you do happen to run into your boyfriend there.

  Downstairs, I write my name on the sign-out sheet, putting Concord Library in the Destination column, then grab a pass and cross the quad to the front gates.

  Darcy’s already at our regular table when I arrive. “Well hello, Miss Delaney,” he whispers as I sit down across from him.

  “Hello, Mr. Hawthorne,” I reply primly.

  Looking around to make sure nobody’s watching, he leans over and gives me a quick kiss. Darcy’s not much for PDA, and neither am I. “How’d your calculus test go?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Okay. I get the feeling the sub doesn’t like me very much, though.”

  Darcy frowns. “What’s not to like?” He tugs softly on my braid.

  I smile at him. It’s nice to have a loyal friend, and when that friend happens to be your boyfriend, it’s even better.

  “Too bad you’re not at Alcott,” he continues. “Maybe you should transfer back. Ms. Kohler is an awesome teacher.”

  “So’s Mr. Crandall,” I remind him. “I just have to stick it out a few more weeks until he’s back. Besides, there’d be no point in changing schools now. You’ll be gone next year.”

  He nods. “True.”

  I don’t like to think about that, let alone talk about it. It’s going to be so weird when he leaves for college. Darcy’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, first as Emma’s big brother, and then as my secret crush, and now as my boyfriend.

  We dutifully turn our attention to our homework, but underneath the library table our knees are touching. And every once in a while we look up at the same time and smile at each other.

  About fifteen minutes before closing time, Darcy shoves a piece of paper toward me. My heart skips a beat; I’ve been waiting for this. Leaning back, Darcy stretches, then gets up and strolls off. I grab the note—actually an origami crane—and unfold it. Meet me upstairs at 515 is written inside.

  I stay where I am for another minute or so, then glance around to see if anybody is watching. They aren’t, of course. They never are. I get up and head casually into the stacks, smiling as I find tonight’s call letters—515 is a shelf filled with calculus textbooks.

  There’s no sign of Darcy, though. I peek between the math books to see if maybe he’s hiding on the other side of the stacks, and nearly jump out of my skin as someone slips their arms around me from behind.

  “Hi there,” he whispers.

  I lean back against him. “Hi.”

  “Miss you,” he says.

  “Miss you too.”

  “Want to go to the movies Saturday night?”

  “Sounds good.”

  The loudspeaker crackles, announcing that the library will be closing in five minutes.

  Two people can do quite a bit of kissing in five minutes.

  If they actually had five minutes, that is.

  About thirty seconds later, someone clears their throat at the other end of the aisle, and we spring apart guiltily. I look over to see Cassidy Sloane grinning at us.

  “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” she says, loping over.

  I can feel my face turn beet red, but Darcy just shrugs and shakes his head, smiling.

  “Nah, didn’t think so,” she continues. “Hey, have you heard anything about your MadriGals audition yet, Jess?”

  “I find out tomorrow.”

  “You’re gonna get picked,” she tells me. “I feel it in my bones. We’ll have to celebrate this weekend, after the Lady Shawmuts kick some Bay State Blazers’ butt.”

  She does a little touchdown dance move. Cassidy has a big hockey game on Saturday, one that will put her a step closer to a shot at the championship round if her team wins.

  “Good luck to you too,” I tell her.

  “Thanks.” She winks at us. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to whatever it is you weren’t doing.” She saunters off.

  Darcy and I exchange a glance and start to laugh. “Way to spoil the mood, huh?” he says, giving me a hug. “How about I walk you back as far as the gate?”

  We go back to the table and gather our things just as the loudspeaker announces that the library is now closed.

  “I’ll see you Saturday night, then,” Darcy says when we reach my campus. “Text me tomorrow as soon as the list is posted, okay?”

  I promise I will, and we say good night and I head back across the quad to my dorm.

  Between the kiss in the library stacks and nervousness about tomorrow, I’m way too keyed up to sleep. I lie in bed tossing and turning. I should be tired, but my audition song keeps playing in my head, and I keep wondering if it was good enough to earn me a solo. In the bunk below me, I can hear Adele twitching around, too, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing.

  “Are you awake?” I whisper finally, leaning over the edge of my mattress.

  “Yeah,” she whi
spers back.

  “Nervous?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The light flips on. Across the room, Savannah is sitting up in the lower bunk of her bed. “You guys can’t sleep, either?”

  We shake our heads. “I can,” says Frankie from the bunk above her, stuffing her pillow over her head. “Keep it down.”

  “I’m hungry,” says Adele. “Anybody have any food?”

  “Actually, I do,” I reply, suddenly remembering the cookie tin my mother gave me. I’ve been so preoccupied this week, I’d completely forgotten about it. Slipping out of bed, I fish it from its hiding place in my bottom drawer. Then I cross the room and lift an edge of Frankie’s pillow, waving the tin back and forth under her nose. “Mmmm!” I whisper. “Triple chocolate cookies.”

  The pillow goes soaring across the room as she sits up too. “Are you serious? Gimme one of those things.”

  “Midnight feast!” says Adele happily, padding over to join us. Frankie climbs out of her bunk and the three of us plunk down on Savannah’s bed, wrapping ourselves in her comforter.

  “So how was the library, Jess?” asks Savannah innocently.

  My face flames. “Uh, fine?”

  She grins at me. “Yeah, I’ll bet it was.”

  Uh-oh, I think. She figured it out.

  “What are you talking about?” asks Frankie.

  “Do you want to tell them, or shall I?” says Savannah.

  I toss a cookie at her. “I’ve been meeting Darcy at the Concord Library.”

  Frankie and Adele both squeal at this news.

  “Shhhhh, you guys! Keep it down!” I scold them. “You’ll wake the McKinleys.”

  I can’t keep the smile off my face, though. Hanging out with my friends like this is the best part of boarding school.

  They pump me for details, and then we talk about boys in general and about MadriGals and I tell them about the Battleaxe—they think Mrs. Chadwick’s nickname for Mrs. Adler is hilarious—and finally, yawning, we decide it’s time for bed.