Sound Carries

2.

I found the rest of the group at the top of the tower.

The tower was Conolly's point of distinction, a hulking two-hundred-foot spectre plastered across every glossy brochure, instantly recognizable to those immersed in the global performing arts scene. It stood at the base of the lake, looming over the rest of the school, its open windows watchful eyes.

Though the tower was not technically locked – there was a padlock, which certainly gave the appearance that it was inaccessible, but the lock had been broken many years ago – tradition barred entry to any students not in third year, and as such, it was the most coveted spot in the school. I had snuck up a couple of times with Oliver in the dead of night when nobody would see us, but it had never been ours; we had always been trespassers. No longer.

To this day the sight – or even the thought – of that tower makes me feel slightly ill, as though looking up at it will draw the events of that semester out of the murky haze of memory and back into stark clarity.

I bounded up the last of the stairs, out of breath.

Sure enough, all six of them stood in a nervous clump. When I rounded the corner, they all turned, gazes expectant.

"They had Rutledge sit in for you?" Audra asked, breathless. "What was it like? Did he ask anything different?"

"It doesn't matter." I sat down hard on the windowsill. "I screwed up the beginning of my recit anyway."

Audra's gaze felt weighted.

"He didn't ask for anything different." I said, a little crossly. "It was just an audition."

"At least it's over now, right?" Hannah didn't tear her gaze from the lake, impossibly serene, sunlight filtering through her yellow-gold hair and highlighting the few freckles on her face.

Gabriel heaved a sigh and turned to look over the campus grounds. Then, leaning against the windowsill, he sighed again. "Well, at any rate, it all belongs to us now."

Nobody had to ask what he meant. Up on that tower in the weak September sunlight, auditions behind us, it felt true.

The tower was constructed as though someone had at one point intended for it to be a landing pad for some sort of miniscule helicopter. At the north end of the tower, the walls disappeared, leaving an open space beyond which there was nothing but open air, and far below that, the rocky ground.

I knew from conversations with the staff that it was on the list for repairs, considering the giant hazard that it was, but as far as most of the staff knew, the tower was locked anyway, ignorant as they were to the state of the lock, so most of the repair budget went to more immediate concerns, like burst pipes.

Below us, students scuttled across the grounds like bugs, unaware of our watchful gaze. The grass sloped away from us towards the shimmering lake, brilliantly glassy in the afternoon sun.

The unspoken tension hung in the air, a tangible thing. It was always like this after auditions. For the next several days all of us would be hungry with desire, searching for validation in our teacher's eyes, every word to each other spoken with a competitive edge. It would all dissolve within a couple of days after the cast list was posted, and we'd fall back into our regular routines, but now we were all beside ourselves with a restless and frenetic energy.

"Who do you think they'll give it to?" Audra asked, not looking at any of us, but deliberately casting her gaze up at the ceiling.

None of us answered her right away. Her question was such a deliberate fish for affirmation that I was surprised she had even asked it out loud. Of course we all knew who they would cast as the lead.