Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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The opening chords of the song Taylor chose for us begin to ring through me. I don't recognize it, which does nothing for my nerves.
I have a death grip on the microphone just to keep from dropping it because of my sweating palms, and I can't help but to think about the amount of mouths I've watched touch it tonight.
Not even Taylor's presence on the stage could reduce the level of cortisol coursing through my veins. Not as I make the mistake of glancing back toward the table where all of his friends are watching us intently with the same stupid grin on all of their faces. Even Alyssa is giggling into her drink.
But it's my brother's face that is the worst of all. I know he can't believe that I'm here and on the stage. I've never had the ability to put myself out there like he can. He should know the amount of courage it took for me to get on this stage better than anyone, except he's the only one who looks like he might pull his phone out just to have something to laugh at later.
I've never been told I'm tone deaf. My glass shower door never once shattered during my mid shampoo concerts. I can't possibly be worse than the other people who have gone, especially the poor freshman from the team who tried to add choreography during their turn.
But as the first few lyrics pop up on the small screen hanging above the small stage, a little squeak falls from my lips.
"I can't do this. I'm going to vomit right here on this stage and all I've eaten today is cheap sushi," I say, pulling the mic away from my mouth so the words don't reverberate through it.
Taylor lays a palm over his own microphone, but continues to nod his head in sync with the timbre of the violin. "You can do anything for thirty seconds."
"There are a lot of things I wouldn't do for thirty seconds. Not even five. I think this is one of them."
Taylor opens his mouth, but instead of more words of wisdom he begins to sing the words on the screen, "Who doesn't know what I'm talking about? Who's never left home? Who's never struck out?"
It's deep and smooth, and surprisingly...good?
Of course Taylor can also sing. Any shot that I had of not sounding like a screeching monkey just went right out the door.
As we climbed the rickety black platform I had mentally prepared myself for a Taylor Swift song, or a classic like "Sweet Caroline". As Taylor's accent drawls out the next few notes in near perfection I still can't decipher what it is.
Taylor throws an elbow into my side as the chorus begins. "The chorus is all you Cap! Thirty seconds!" His smile is one I haven't seen before, it's warm and encouraging, and coats me in vaseline. Like promising to protect me if I crash and burn.
I rest my microphone hand against my chest, the other gripping at my sleeve brushing against it. I pinch my eyes shut, and inhale a deep breath. That familiar pine scent dances across my senses, instantly calming me.
