Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(41)

“Really? I thought it was damned good. Not nearly as good as my singing, of course. But really good.”

I roll my eyes.

“No? Okay, then show me how you really do it. Sing for real.”

I shake my head.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please.”

“Nope.”

He scowls. “Why not?”

“Too shy.”

Now he looks astonished. “But you’re a theater major. You want to sing on Broadway one day.”

“I’m not shy about singing for an actual audience. I’m just shy to sing for you. Here in your room. Just the two of us.”

Tyler looks at me quizzically.

“Onstage, there are blinding lights,” I explain. “I can’t see the faces. I get lost in the song. But here, when I’m just little ol’ me, being asked to sing for big ol’ you, it’s terrifying.”

Tyler takes my hand and flashes me what I’m sure he thinks is his most charming smile. “Pretty please with a cherry on top sing for me, Zooey Cartwright?”

I shake my head.

Tyler drops my hands like a hot potato. “Damn. With every other girl in the world, that would have worked like a charm. No one can resist my ‘pretty please with a cherry on top’ eyes.”

I shrug. “Until now.”

“Well, shit,” Tyler says. “Can I at least watch a video of you singing for real? There’s got to be something on YouTube from one of your high school musicals or whatever.”

“Yeah, sure. My performance when I won this regional showcase is on YouTube. It’s what got me my biggest scholarship.”

“You won? Out of how many people?”

“To start with? Thousands. By the bitter end, maybe forty?”

“Holy shit.”

“I’ve won lots of singing competitions. For a year, I competed in everything I could find that had scholarship money as the prize. The scholarships I won are going to pay for my first three years of expenses. After that, I’ll have to work and take out loans, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“How did I not know this about you? You’re a badass singer?”

I shrug.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Cartwright. Wow.” He motions to his computer. “Well, cue that showcase up, dude. I want to see it.”

I grab Tyler’s laptop and navigate to YouTube. “The song I performed at that big showcase was ‘Defying Gravity’ from Wicked. It’s my favorite. If ever I get to perform in Wicked, that’ll be my version of playing in the Super Bowl. And I don’t even need to be Elphaba. Even if I’m just in the chorus, whether on Broadway or just touring, I’ll feel like I’ve arrived. But if I do get to be Elphaba one day, especially on Broadway, oh my freaking God, that’ll be like winning ten Super Bowls and being named MVP in all of them.”

“I’ve never heard of Wicked.”

“Never heard of Wicked? What? First Babar, then Josie and the Pussycats, and now this? Tyler Caldwell!”

He chuckles. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. It’s about how this green-skinned girl named Elphaba grows up to become the Wicked Witch of the West. She wasn’t wicked to start with—in fact, she was genuinely kind-hearted and good. She was just always misunderstood and ostracized because of her green skin. I guess you could say poor Elphaba experienced the opposite of the halo effect, thanks to her skin color.”

“Wow. It sounds cool.”

“Oh, God, it is, Tyler. I love it so, so much.” I find the link to the showcase video and cue it up. “When my grandparents took me to New York for the first time at age ten, they took me to see Wicked on Broadway, and I swear to God in that moment, I knew exactly…” Something in the way Tyler’s looking at me makes me trail off. “Why are you… What?”

Tyler smiles. “You’re totally lit up right now, Zooey. Like a Christmas tree. This is by far the sexiest you’ve ever looked to me. And that’s saying a lot.”

I blush.

“But go on. I’m listening. I’m hard as a rock, but I’m listening.”

My heart is racing. “I was just saying that, um… What was I saying? Oh, yeah. When I saw Wicked for the first time, I realized the most important thing about me.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m destined to be a performer. It’s literally the only thing I want to do with my life. And that I’m supposed to wind up on Broadway one day. That I can’t stop working toward that goal until I achieve it.” My jaw tightens. “Getting onto Broadway is my life’s purpose. And the pinnacle of that destiny will be me playing Elphaba on Broadway.” I clutch my heart. It’s racing. “If I reach that peak, I’ll know I’ve lived the best life humanly possible.”

Tyler smiles.

“But I’m sure you can understand. You must dream of playing in the Super Bowl.”

“All the time. Among other things.”

“When did you first realize football is your life’s purpose?” I ask.

“Oh, football isn’t my life’s purpose,” he says, shocking me. “It’s the vehicle for me to reach my higher destiny, for sure, but it’s not my life’s purpose. The same way boxing wasn’t Muhammad Ali’s life’s purpose.”