𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞

28 | 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

"Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, tee, do--" we sang, extending the last note before descending to the lower spectrum of octaves. I awkwardly sat back down on the creaky, gray metal chair and glanced to the other half of the auditorium stage as the tenor and bass practiced their measures of "The Awakening."

"Psst!" she hissed sharply towards me. I didn't turn my head. I focused on Ms. Leovan with her gentle piano playing and continual bass toned singing to coincide with the section. Again, behind my head, I heard, "psst--"

"What?" I whispered sharply in return, quiet to not catch Ms. Leovan's attention. I twisted around in the chair to see Kayla's wide eyes as she pressed forward towards me.

"I'm sorry about the things I said--"

"Well, I'm not," I rebuked. "Because of you, I kissed Sullivan," I triumptly remarked, spinning back around in my chair to look at Ms. Leovan as she leapt off the piano bench. She threw up her arm happily.

"That's what I'm talking about, people!" she congratulated, her voice reverberated through the interior of the auditorium. She clapped excitedly, dropping her arms on either side of her aqua blue dress. "You guys make me proud."

She walked towards the stairs at the opposing end of the stage, swiping a clipboard off a rectangular table as she approached. "Our song--an fun, little thing that will be the easiest thing we've done all, well, ever... The Lion Sleeps Tonight, which excitedly, has a solo that we will be auditioning for... Who wants it?" she asked everyone expectly.

Her eyes scanned over the individual seats. "Well, luckily for you when I did those surveys at the beginning of the year, asking if anyone would be interested in a solo, I got all your names." She crouched down and picked up a glass mason jar off the floor, holding it out to everyone who shared a continuous groan of disapproval.

"That's what that was?!" someone shouted from within the semi-circle of chairs.

"Untrustworthy," another one scolded.

Ms. Leovan laughed quietly to herself. "If anyone doesn't raise their hand, I will pick the ten competitors at random," she reminded us with an edge to her tone. "Anyone?"

Three hands shot up and she nodded with a grin. "That wasn't so hard! Wait-- Wolf-pack?" she asked the student whose nickname developed over time. The senior in my grade sprung from his chair, demonstrating his mustard color shirt as he pounded his chest with his fist.

"You know it, Ms. Love," he teased. "Imma about to make history with this one!"

A wave of chuckles fluttered through the auditorium as Mrs. Leovan nodded, evidently intrigued as she scribbled his name on the clipboard. "Diana?" she smiled. "I'm glad. And... Penny!"

Penelope smiled from the alto section. Penelope nodded, her red hair tucked neatly in her high pony. Suddenly, Jay popped up from the stands and waved his hand. "I will happily participate too!"

Ms. Leovan beamed. "This is great. We're still needing six more. Anybody else?" she egged on, though no one dared to say a thing. "Be a dear, Wilson," she murmured. "Hold this." She passed him the clipboard and unscrewed the cap to the mason jar.

She plucked out a strip of paper and nodded at it. "Patricia--Oh, sorry," she corrected, "Rowan." Giving him a smile from across the chorus seats. Ms. Leovan gestured for Wilson to write the name beneath Jay's. She repeated the action, popping out another strip of paper and saying, "Olivia Marshall."

My heart started to race and I had no idea why, for some odd and strange reason, I knew that my name was in and I had a gut feeling she was going to pick me, but I didn't want to audition for the solo. With a few more passing by minutes of anxiety, she retreated Erin's and Lockett's name.