Fire with Fire (Burn for Burn #2)

Fire with Fire (Burn for Burn #2) Page 55

“As always, our class will be singing on Main Street during the Jar Island holiday tree lighting next Tuesday, which means we have a week to get these numbers in tip-top shape. So let’s dive right in!”

He tinkles a few keys and we begin our standard warmups. It feels good to use my throat, to hear my voice blend into everyone else’s.

Afterward Mr. Mayurnik says, “Great. Now that we’re good and warm, we need to figure out who will be singing our solos. Can all the sopranos to come to the front of the room.”

I’m a soprano, so I stand up. As I squeeze through the rows, I get nervous. Instantly nervous. I do okay singing in the back of the class, but here, with everyone looking up at us, I feel my throat close up. My dad pops into my head, because he always says that I have a pretty voice. So pretty he makes me sing “Happy Birthday” twice before he’ll blow out his candles. He doesn’t even care that the cake gets covered in melted wax.

But that memory doesn’t make things better. It makes me feel worse.

I take a spot around the piano and end up standing directly in front of Alex Lind.

Mr. Mayurnik starts playing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” I forgot to take the booklet with me, but I know the words. I try my best to do a good job. Some of the other sopranos, I know they’ve been in chorus longer. And a few of them are in drama club. They’re already practicing songs for the spring musical. Hello, Dolly! I would love to be in the spring musical. I can’t compete with their voices, so I just try not to mess up.

For most of the song, I stare at the ceiling. But toward the end I look down at Alex. He has his eyes closed and a smile on his face, like we sound really good.

He’s nice. Alex Lind is nice. I know it.

When we finish, everyone in the room applauds. Alex even whistles. Mr. Mayurnik picks Jess Salzar to do the solo, and I’m okay with it. I’m actually kind of relieved. And anyway, she does have a pretty voice.

“Okay, boys. Let’s hear it.”

Alex and the other guys stand at the front of the room. There are only four of them. Mr. Mayurnik makes Jess stay up at the piano to sing the girl part, and when the boys sing, he listens closely.

I do too.

Alex has an amazing voice. He’s not like some of the musical-theater guys in the class, who you know are bound for Broadway. His voice isn’t big like that, but you can still pick his out from the lineup of guys. It’s just . . . sweet. Earnest. And it’s perfect for the song.

And I’m happy for Alex, genuinely happy for him, when Mr. Mayurnik picks him for the solo.

Alex looks shocked. “Me?”

Mr. Mayurnik bangs on his piano. “Yes, you! And a little birdie told me that you’re pretty good at playing the guitar, too. Can you read music?” Alex nods. “Great. Bring it with you to school tomorrow and we’ll get started on you playing along.”

“I don’t know . . . I’ve never played in front of an audience before.”

“You’ll make all the ladies in the crowd faint! Won’t he, girls?”

As if we’re all on cue, every girl in the class screams for Alex like he’s a pop star or a teen idol or something. Even me. Alex turns redder than a holly berry.

It’s a good reminder that nice things do happen to good people, every so often.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

I’ve never stood on a diving platform before. Reeve wanted me to try it, at least once before the test, but I couldn’t bring myself to. My knees are shaking. It’s so high up, and the water looks really deep. There’s a whole line of us on the blocks. People are crouched and poised in diving positions, everyone except me. I force myself to breathe. I don’t have to do a fancy swan dive into the water; all I have to do is jump.

If I can do this, I can do anything. That’s what I keep telling myself.

Coach Christy is giving the instructions that I know by heart—up and down the length of the pool twice, then two minutes of treading water. I fumble with my goggles. They feel so tight around my eyes. I hate wearing them, but Reeve kept saying I would feel more comfortable underwater if I could see, and he was right.

Coach Christy blows her whistle, and I squeeze my eyes shut. The other people jump first; I hear their splashes in the water. I count to three, and then I do it. I jump. I hit the water with a slap. I move my arms; I kick my legs. I try to remember everything Reeve said: Keep your head down, arms against your ears, kick kick kick. I hold my breath for as long as I can before I gasp to the surface; then I’m turning my face back down into the water again. I feel like I’m drowning, but I keep pulling myself through the water until my fingers hit the wall, and then I’m turning around and going the other way.

I don’t look over to the lanes on my left and right, because I’m afraid to break up my rhythm, but I’m pretty sure they’re already done. I can’t care about that, though, I have to focus on myself and not worry about what other people are doing.

You can do it. You can do it.

I feel exhausted by the second time I hit the wall, every muscle in my body is burning, but now I know it’s almost over, only one more length of the pool. I take my time now; there’s no rush, like Reeve said. Take it easy, one stroke at a time.

And then I’m there. My fingers touch the wall. I made it. I come up for air and cling to the side of the pool, breathing hard. I hear clapping, and I look up—there’s Reeve, standing by the bleachers, clapping and whistling. For me.

I can’t believe he came.

Everyone else is out of the pool, so Coach Christy comes over with her stopwatch to time me treading water. I keep my back straight and my knees bent and I do the eggbeater kick that Reeve taught me last week. I swallow some water, but I manage to keep my head up.

“Good job, Lil,” she says, beaming at me.

The stopwatch goes off, and I can’t believe it. I did it. I actually did it. I swim over to the pool ladder, and I climb up. My body is so sore already, but I feel like a champion. I feel like I can do anything.

Running over to Reeve, I scream, “I did it!”

He’s grinning like crazy. “Yeah, you did!” I launch myself into his arms and he lifts me in the air. I feel deliriously, euphorically happy.

We’re laughing, but when he sets me back down, there’s this long awkward pause of us looking at each other. We both start talking at the same time.

“Thank you—”

“You were awesome—”

We laugh and I try again. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done it without you, Reeve. The whole time, I kept reminding myself of everything you taught me.”