It Started with a Kiss

Chapter 9

"Okay guys, it's go time!" I shouted out, as Jones prepared to walk on stage to give his regular speech. I swear, him and his speeches would put anyone into a coma. But I wouldn't have dared tell him that. I preferred not spending my free time scraping the gum off the bottom of tables, thank you very much. But he didn't matter right now, what mattered was the show, the contestants, the judges, the prize money... Wait, who had the prize money? Because I certainly didn't. Why didn't I think of this before? How could I've forgotten to find out who had the prize money? As I dashed in the direction of the dressing rooms, where Grace was currently trying to deal with some girl having a panic attack, I pulled out my phone and rang Matt.

"Hi Matt, you wouldn't happen to know who has the prize money?" I asked, my mind kicking into overdrive trying to come up with a solution if we didn't actually have it. How was I supposed to come up with a thousand dollars in the space of two hours?

Despite the fact that Matt wasn't even part of the talent show committee, he was relatively high up in the union, so I reckoned it'd be a safe bet asking him. He always seemed to know what was going on.

"Relax Tara, I've got it here, ready to give to Jones when the judges have made their decision."

I felt my shoulders relax again as I replied to him, not realising until now that I'd tensed up with worry. "Oh, that's good. I didn't know what we were going to do if we'd lost it. Where are you by the way?"

"Front row, six seats in from the middle. I'll be sitting beside Jones the entire time." The grimace I knew he was making seeping into his voice. I let out a burst of laughter at the thought of poor Matt having to endure the entire ceremony sitting beside that obese Muppet who practically lived in corduroy. I didn't envy him having to do that, not one bit.

"Don't have too much fun now," I said, smirking as I turned around and began to make my way back to behind the stage. Sometimes 'headless chicken' didn't even come close to describing me.

"Oh trust me, I won't. Being the newest union exec just sucks and I've you to blame." He said, his tone making me picture him narrowing his eyes. When we were all being elected to the union we had to pick someone to be on the executive committee. I chose Matt because well, one I felt he deserved it. Two, he was honestly the right man for the job, I swear the guy would make a pretty good politician- the Obama kind, not the ones that start their career at sixty-five and are pretty much waiting for the grim reaper to call. My third reason was definitely the most selfish. I knew if I didn't nominate Matt, then he would nominate me and I'd be the one forced to sit beside Jones at every event. No way José was that happening to this chica right here. So I nominated Matt, everyone rowed in behind me and the rest, as they say, was history.

"Oh, let me just get out the violins, Matthew dear." I said, pretending to mime playing the violin, before realising no one could see me. I could be such an idiot at times. Which reminded me what I also wanted Matt for.

"Hey, I need to have a little talk with you mister. Why did you go telling Aaron about Angela?" I asked, annoyance creeping into my tone. This was one thing I wasn't going to let go

"What? Tara, I can't seem to hear you, you're breaking up on me." He said, his voice coming out crystal clear.

"The lines perfect you idiot and don't you dare rub your phone off of your jumper and hang up." I ordered, before hearing the dial tone rhythmically sound in my ear. Matt! That child was going to pay the next time I met him. No one hung up on me like that and got away wit it.

"Tara, where's the third mic?" Someone shouted from behind me.

"On the table by the stairs," I called back immediately, as the winners from last year's show got ready to go on.