The kind of noise that only high school assemblies could make—the restless shuffle of hundreds of students eager for something to break the monotony of routine—buzzed through the auditorium. Emily and I bounced on the edge of our seats beside one another, Emily's eyes lit up with expectation, as I perched with my guitar comfortable in my lap.
Emily scanned the stage with a will that seemed to force our principal to take action; they've got to announce it soon.
I forced a smile. I murmured, brushing the smoothly worn wood of my guitar with my fingers, "Maybe it's all been a bit overhyped." A cloak of dread and desire the thought settled heavy in my chest.
She gave a wry grin, and countered, "You don't really believe that." "Nothing after everything Thompson's told you."
Principal Watkins stepped to the center and the curtain behind the stage ruffled, silencing the room with his presence. Echoes of whispers hung above every head all around, and students leaned forward.
'He began his voice, rich and resonant, 'Thank you all for your patience.' "I'm pleased to announce the details of this year's Harmony Showdown today."
I saw Emily nudge my side beside me. "It's happening, Lily. This is it!"
I responded with a touch of skepticism. "Easy for you to say. "It's not you who has to get up there," she said.
"And you are, and you're going to be amazing."
Principal Watkins adjusted his glasses on stage; his eyes were warm as they gazed over the assembly. "It's more than a talent show. It's about community; it's about connecting with your peers through music and song. And I expect..." His eyes met mine for a moment, or maybe it just felt that way, "I expect you all to make us proud."
My heart fluttered. I bit my lip, pushing away the churning nerves which wrung my stomach into knots.
Watkins continued: "Competition details are posted outside the main office." "Auditions are next week and I want everyone to come, even if you feel a little ... uncomfortable."
I turned to Emily; her enthusiasm was contagious. "He's talking about you, that's you!"
Excitement murmured into a roar; the assembly disbursed in a cascade of tumbling students into the hallway.
I waited for a moment, gathering my thoughts, as I remained seated. They're sat Emily, vibrating with energy, patiently beside me. In a heartbeat she was out her phone, eyes flicking across the screen.
I let out the breath I'd been holding since what felt like the entire announcement. "Why did he have to look at me like that?"
Emily quipped, without looking up, 'Maybe because you're the most talented person in this whole school.'
So, I tossed in her ears, 'It's not about talent,' though her statement drilled a piece of garnish fuel into my resolve. "It's the... entire spotlight thing."
She stared at me directly, her eyes sincerity held. What are you worried about? That's what? As Lily, the world needs to hear you."
I could feel the weight of what she was saying, the way it draped around dreams I'd barely allowed myself to dream. "What if I'm not ready?"
"Ready is overrated." There was a thread of steel in Emily's tone, but it was airy. "You leap. The net appears. That's how this works."
I snorted. "You make it sound easy."
"You just need to stop thinking so much, it's easier." The sound was more like wind chimes than a school hallway ought to have.
Finally, we stood in line with the flow of students. In the chaos of movement my limp was quieter. Not that Emily didn't do the same, and always had, remaining a steady star in an unpredictable sky.
"Next week, huh?" As we arrived at the door; a group of students gathered around the announcement board, I muttered.
"Next week," Emily affirmed. "You can finish that song, you've got time."
The mention of the song wrenched something inside of me, a pride laden with a little bit of terror. "It's still a mess."
Emily shrugged, unfazed. Then make it a beautiful mess." That's music, right?"
I faced her full on and stopped. "Emily, I don't..."
But she interrupted me, gentle but firm, 'You do.' "Deep down, you do. Lily, this isn't a question of if. It's when."
Mr. Thompson echoed her words in my mind, a whisper against the doubts that crowded in: Play for yourself first. You let the audience catch up to your rhythm.
Perhaps, perhaps I could discover that rhythm I'd caught in fleeting moments when nothing else was important but those notes I could draw out of my guitar.
I finally said, 'okay,' voice steadier than it had been in years. "If I fall flat on my face, however..."
Emily grinned like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and finished: "You'll do it, then, spectacularly." I elbowed in with the throng near the bulletin board, elbow to elbow with excited classmates, their chatter in the air matching the jangling nerves inside me.
"What if they hate it?" I was a fragile voice amid the noise.
"Have you never thought that either?" Her words were almost a secret, Emily leaned in closer. "But perhaps, perhaps someone in that audience has to hear exactly what you have to say, exactly how you say it."
Caleb and his group sauntered past across the hall. Alicia's laughter was the loudest in the crowd; her smirk caught my periphery, and a sharp edge cut through my composure.
Emily pulled my focus back saying, 'Ignore them.' "They're not part of this."
I nodded and tried to shrug off the weight of it, but how do you shrug off the weight of it when memories circle like vultures. "It's like sometimes I'm waiting for them to start again, to tear into me."
"Don't give them the satisfaction then." Her eyes were fierce, like she could guard every doubt. Lily, you're stronger than that. It's the voice of music in a world that too many times, can't hear your voice."
The disharmony was sliced by the bell, and the assembly period was over. The noise trickled away into a steady hum and students peeled away, hallway widening again.
With her hand on my arm, Emily said, 'We should go.'
I moved with her, hope weaving between my fears and my hope. "You'll be there."
"Front row," Emily swore, like a warm sun-drenched glass bottle under an open sky.
Principal Watkins stood by the door, watching as we streamed by with a knowing smile that was encouraging rather than expectant. He looked up just as we went past, his tone as prideful as it was gentle, 'Lily, looking forward to seeing you at auditions, anyway. Just trust in your notes."
He chuckled softly, but it was a sound brimming with belief, and I must have looked surprised. Emily caught my arm and squeezed, all the response I needed, as if the universe was just trying to get me to the place I needed to be.
We paused outside, beneath the wide branched oak which stood at the school yard, its shade dappling the ground like a patchwork quilt. The distant calls of freedom echoed out from the playground, as a distant longing to belong, and I leaned against the rough bark.
"Ready for lunch?" It was light, Emily's voice, and a soothing sound to the storm that was within her.
I chuckled, despite myself, and responded with, 'As ready as I'll ever be.' "It's like I might as well have announced I'm going to climb Everest."
Emily said with feigned seriousness: "It's music, not Everest, though you'd conquer that too." 'We should eat something first before doing anything.' Right, fuel up for greatness.
I nodded, holding tight to her humor, a little more resolve than I'd felt that morning. I walked towards the cafeteria with [the person] and the knot of fear and anticipation in my chest loosened and we started talking again.
Around us the familiar chaos of the cafeteria swirled as we lined up. A chorus of conversations mingled together with stories, hopes, laughter atop trays of befriended friends. Then I thought how music wasn't just a place of refuge but also an invitation, an open door into a world of voices arriving and fitting with each other.
"Lily, deep in thought?" Nudging me forward, Emily commented.
"I just don't know," I said, fidgeting with a raindrop guitar pick that never left my pockets for good luck.
Emily loaded her tray with food, "Thinking is good." 'Over thinking just sours the milk,'
But sometimes, I smiled, rolling my eyes. "You and your sayings."
She laughed and said, 'Hey, you're the one with a flair for words, writer,' she said. "But those words are going to matter."
We found a table in the corner, tucked away but open, and we settled to our lunches. I picked at my sandwich, hunger gone among the sea of possibilities.
'You going to eat that, or just think about it?' Emily teased. It was a bomb, the familiarity of it, and her eyes sparkled.
I set my guitar pick down beside my plate, carefully, like a charm, a reminder of the journey to come.
"In a minute, Emily said.
"By the way, "Ethan asked about you today after math."
Nerves flickered fast through me. "Oh? So, what did Ethan have to say about me?"