Page 78 of Defiant
“Ollie volunteered to be our chauffeur for the night,” Mom told me, grinning ear to ear. When I only stared at her, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that, Jaz. The man needs to get out of the house more.”
“He is out of the house, like all day every day—”
“I mean for more than his job,” Mom cut in with a shake of her head. “He needs to learn to have a life again, and I’m not saying that going to your choir concert will make him realize how much of life he’s missing, but it’s a start.”
Great. The only thing not super weird about this, the only saving grace of this night was the fact that there were no games tonight. No basketball or anything, no other extracurriculars that would be at the school. The only people who would see me come with my mom and Ollie in tow were the other choir students.
Granted, I couldn’t trust anyone, but if there was a group of kids who I could perhaps trust a tad more than the general population of Brittany and Archer wannabes, it was them.
A honking sound came from the front, and that was our cue to leave. Mom gathered her purse and we headed out.
I slid into the backseat of Ollie’s fancy car, while my mom got in the front passenger seat. I leaned my arm on the door, staring up at the moon in the sky. It wasn’t too late in the day, but the afternoon had come and gone. It was now early nighttime, and the sparkling dots in the sky were enough of a reminder for that.
My eyes closed, and I tried not to listen to my mom’s and Ollie’s conversation as he drove us to Midpark High. They seemed to be getting close lately, which was fine I guess, since my mom worked for the man and we lived in his house, but it all just felt so…weird to me.
Ugh. If there was a night not to be stressed out about anything, it was tonight. Tonight was about me remembering my words and my part in the songs. No stage fright, no nerves. I would do this and hopefully it wouldn’t be as bad as I anticipated it would be.
That was probably a longshot dream of mine.
The Midpark High parking lot was full of maybe a few dozen cars. Nothing at all like how it was packed during the day with students’ and teachers’ vehicles. Just enough cars for the parents and choir kids to get here and do this damned thing.
Yeah, I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Ollie dropped me off at the door before going to park, since we were supposed to arrive fifteen minutes early to warm up before the auditorium was opened to parents and anyone else who wanted to sit and watch. I had no idea who would think that watching a high school choir concert on their Friday night would be a fun thing, but I guess you never knew. I gave my mom my hoodie before hopping out.
I pushed inside the building, turning to head toward the hall where the auditorium was. I actually spotted Bobbi just outside the set of double doors, talking on the phone. Her brown hair was down, the curls causing its length to end just halfway down her back. She wore a pair of tight dress pants, along with a black tank and a dark suit top. The look actually fit on her.
When her hazel eyes found me, she said, “I got to go. Ms. Haber’s calling us in to rehearse.” A small lie, because I didn’t see Ms. Haber anywhere, but I could imagine the teacher was already in the auditorium, running around for last-minute things. “My dad couldn’t make it tonight,” she added when I reached her side.
“Then my mom can be here for the both of us,” I said, shrugging. Kind of shitty that her dad couldn’t come, but I supposed sometimes adults did have other responsibilities. Maybe he had work or something. “Why couldn’t he come?” It wasn’t like the concert date had come out of nowhere; these things had been scheduled at the beginning of the school year.
“There was some kind of emergency at the park, I guess. Not sure what happened. He doesn’t like talking about his cases.” She put her phone into her jacket’s pocket.
Together, we walked into the auditorium. “Cases?”
She said, “Yeah, he’s a detective for the Midpark Police Department.”
I nearly tripped. Her dad was a detective? Did he know Jacob? And when she’d said an emergency in the park, she really meant an emergency…
The auditorium was a big space, reserved for the school’s assemblies or any other special events. Rows and rows of cushioned seating, though the only lights that were on were hot and bright on the stage, where risers were stationed. That way, even the shorter kids in the back would be able to be seen by their parents in the audience.
Bobbi and I took our places, and within two minutes, Ms. Haber stood before us, running through our vocal warm-ups. It was kind of hard to see out into the audience, but I could tell some parents snuck in even though they weren’t supposed to come in yet.
Once our warm-ups were done, Ms. Haber opened the side doors to the auditorium and let the flood of parents in. We were supposed to stand still, not fidget, with our hands at our sides. It was all very annoying; like we were robots who were simply here to sing. So not my thing, but I supposed I could get through a few more months of this.
Just a few more months of all of this, really, and I would leave this town in the rearview mirror, hopefully, graduate and never see any of these people again.
That was what I thought, but as I stood there, spotting my mom and Ollie amongst the crowd, I wondered if it was true. If I really would leave. In the hectic-ness of the move, college applications had kind of been forgotten about. Plus, would I really want to leave the guys? Jacob, Vaughn…hell, even Dante.
And Archer—no, I would not let my weak-willed mind when it came to that one sway me either way.
With the parents inside and sitting down, it was time for Ms. Haber to grab a mic and introduce herself, as if most of the parents here didn’t already know who she was. My mom didn’t, I supposed, along with Ollie, but odds were every other adult in the audience had come to the other concerts earlier in the school year.
Needless to say, when she made some of her corny jokes, it was impossible not to roll my eyes.
Thankfully her introduction didn’t last too long. Before I knew it, she was setting the microphone down and positioning herself at the base of the stage, where she’d conduct like she was some kind of performer and we were her band.
We didn’t have many songs to get through. Just four, but there were other choir groups in the school, so once we were done, they’d take the stage—and unfortunately for us, we could not leave before the rest was done. Rude, and all.
