I catch a glimpse of Jerry approaching my car door, and with very little thought and with fire-drill urgency, I throw my entire body from the vehicle, somehow forgetting that lifting my feet from the floorboard in the process is essential to walking.My entire body comes down in a crash and I end up kissing the cobblestone I’m so fond of.
“What in the world!Tate!”Jerry drops to the ground beside me, finally breaking code and using my first name.It makes me smile while the rest of my body screams in pain.Any minute someone will arrive to mark the scene of the crime, outlining my body with white chalk.Here lies Tate McGregor.She was this close to her dream of singing professionally.
“I’m okay, really,” I promise, pulling myself up from the drive onto my forearms and then rolling to a sit.My eyes catch movement beyond the glass front doors.People—likely the other contestants—huddle together in the foyer.They’re probably debating whether or not to approach.File this under another Tate-ism.In addition to using only movies as references in life, I am also one of the clumsiest people on this planet, and I’ve made peace with that.The sound of wheels gripping the cobblestone drive as they push up and over a hill hits my ears.Turning my head, I see another black sedan—not unlike the one I just fell from—pull up behind us.It takes a minute, but the driver does notice me as the engine cuts and his eyes quickly grow to the size of donuts when he processes that there’s a girl on the ground in the driveway.Startling for anyone, I’m sure, but I can’t help but wonder...who has he got with him?
Chapter 4
Levi
“There’s...someone...on the driveway.Stay here!”
At the sound of his voice, I look up from the preseason game I’ve been watching to see Carl, my driver, bolting from his door.I pluck the remaining earbud from my ear, stowing it away in its case.Carl’s muffled yells of “Are you okay?”and “Should I call an ambulance?”ride in on the breeze.My first impression of Los Angeles is that it’s nice, but it’s no Tennessee.I lengthen my spine to my full height, leaning every which way around the seat in front of me, but I see nothing.
“Man, this is not how I saw it going today.If they cancel the show because someone got hit after acting silly in the driveway...”I mumble, lifting my hat from my head and running a frustrated hand through my hair before collapsing back into my seat.Something happens during the game on my phone and the crowd cheers loud enough to remind me my phone is still on.
I don’t usually care to watch preseason games, but it certainly helped prevent any forced polite conversation with Carl on the way over here.It’s nothing against him, he seems nice enough, but I’m not interested in making friends.Nope, I’m here for one reason and one reason only, and that is to win.Now, I know that makes me sound like an arrogant fill-in-the-blank, or at least that’s what my mama has told me.But since when is being confident a bad thing?I’ll tell you what...being confident has saved me a lot of trouble in my life.Like when Dad up and left during my sophomore year of high school.Did I sit home and pout that Daddy wasn’t going to come to my games anymore?No.I quit the baseball team and started a landscaping business to help Mom out with the bills.Still running it to this day.That reminds me...I ought to check in with Tim once I get unpacked.What time is it there?Nearly 4 p.m.here so...dang, I’ll probably have to call him at some point tomorrow.
The small cab of the car somehow feels like it’s getting smaller.I’d love to get out, but Carl told me not to.I twist and turn my torso around the front passenger seat again, but still can’t see a thing.Wait a minute.I’m Levi Johnson, a twenty-three-year-old man who’s about to win the biggest singing competition in the country, not some kid you can tell to be quiet and stay in the car.Okay, I’m paraphrasing.He didn’t say that, but that’s how it feels.
In one quick flick of the wrist, I tuck my hair back under my hat, adjusting the bill in front.It’s my favorite hat and I may or may not have some built-up superstition around it.I flip off the game and tuck my phone into the zipper compartment of my backpack before nearly kicking open the door.After only minorly struggling to get my entire six-two frame from the small porthole they call a door, I straighten.I’ve never missed my truck more than at this moment.I crack my neck, bending it from shoulder to shoulder, before slowly guiding my eyes towards the car in front of ours, preparing myself for whatever I may find...and that’s when I see her.
Sitting against the car directly in front of ours, next to both of our drivers, is the girl from the auditions.Miss Rainbow Brite herself!Today she’s not as colorful as she was at the auditions, but somehow is still wearing more color than should legally be allowed at one time.She’s wearing banana-yellow Converse with coordinating yellow-and-cream striped socks visible below her white painter pants rolled midway to her shin.Her shirt is a somewhat muted acid wash in—you guessed it—yellow.All of this by itself is a lot, but then there is the stack of multicolored beaded bracelets, which seem to be a staple for her, running up both wrists.She looks up from the conversation when she sees me approaching.A smile blooms across her face.It’s full and bright like KC lights in the dead of night.Long, sun-kissed brown hair tumbles down from her shoulders to her elbow.
The breath in my chest slows to a walk, along with my heart.Thud, thud, thud.The sound of my blood slapping against my eardrum.I know this posture my body is falling into.It’s the same thing that happens when I’m out hunting, and a perfect buck comes into view.It feels like when a light from heaven spotlights the deer as it walks through the brush, and the only thing I can think about is taking it home.It’s my primitive brain, and its signals must be twisted because it’s going off right now.The thought scares me.Sure, she’s attractive, in that sort of cute, unstable way, but I can’t think about that right now.I am here to win.I shake my head and hope to all that is good that my pupils aren’t dilated like a loony.
“Gummy worm?”Her voice cuts into my insanity.She holds up a clear bag of tangled, sugarcoated candy between us.I look from her to the drivers bracketing her then back to her.
“No...I’m good.”
“Suit yourself,” she says, tipping her head back and dropping a half blue, half red worm into her mouth.
“So, it was getting kind of hot in the car...everything okay out here?”I keep my eyes locked on Carl’s to avoid the sinking sand of the girl’s copper-colored eyes beside him.
“Oh, um, yes,” he says quickly, coming to a stand.“I do apologize.I saw her on the ground and just, I don’t know, jumped into action—” The lines on his face curve into something like remorse and I know I have to let it go.
“It was my fault,” she interrupts, leaning forward before also coming to a stand.Her hands make quick work of putting away the candy, folding the corners of the plastic bag to a point before folding it down like I’ve seen my mama do on the edges of Christmas presents.“I was in such a rush to get inside”—she looks around me to the house and then back— “that I accidentally tripped on the lip of the car getting out and, well, you know the rest.”
