Look Both Ways(33)

I sit up. “Was it bad? What happened?”

She sighs. “No, it was fine. I’m just…a little overwhelmed.”

“Of course you are. Kim’s a really big role, and it was your first day.”

“I know, and logically, I’m sure I can handle the part. The songs aren’t even that hard or anything. We started working on ‘One Boy’ this morning, and it went pretty well. But then I did ‘What Did I Ever See in Him?’ this afternoon with Julianna—she’s playing Rosie—and she’s…” Zoe sighs and drops her binder on the desk. “She’s so professional. I mean, she is a professional, obviously. But it reminded me how much I’m not, you know? I don’t even have any real training yet. How am I supposed to keep up with her?”

“Zoe, you’re insanely talented,” I say. “You’ll totally be able to keep up.”



“Thanks. I know it’ll probably be fine. But…this is going to sound terrible, but I’m used to it being easy. I’m used to being the best. It was never hard for me to get leads at my high school. And here I’m, like, so far from the best, and it’s going to be the same at Juilliard. What if I have to spend the entire rest of my life not being the best?”

A snotty little part of me wants to go, Welcome to the club, but I swallow down the words. Zoe has never really needed me before, and I want to show her how supportive I can be. Plus, listening to her spill her secret fears is making me feel close to her in a totally new way.

“You have tons of time to rehearse,” I say. “The show doesn’t open for six weeks. By then you’re going to be even better than Julianna.”

Zoe smiles at me. “You’re sweet,” she says. “I think maybe I’ll feel better if I go to the practice rooms for a little while and look over what we did today.”

“You can practice here. I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s late. I don’t want to bother anyone. I’ll be back soon, okay? I’ll try not to wake you up if you’re asleep.”

Of course I want Zoe to feel better, but I also don’t want her to leave me. Before I even have time to think about it, I’m asking, “Do you want an accompanist?”

“Well, yeah. I’d love that. But nobody’s going to be available this late.”

“I’m available.”

She looks up from gathering her things. “I didn’t know you could play.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty good, actually.”



“It’s really nice of you to offer. But I don’t have the piano part.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “I know it.”

“Seriously? You know all of Birdie by heart?”

I shrug. “I mean, I probably don’t know all of it. But I’m pretty sure I can do your songs.”

I love the way Zoe’s looking at me right now, like she’s eaten an oyster and found an unexpected pearl lurking in the shell. “All right,” she says. “If you’re sure. Thank you.”

She leads me downstairs and into one of the practice rooms, and by the time she closes the door behind us, I’m starting to panic a little. What was I thinking, setting her expectations that high? If I were in my own living room, accompanying Marisol or Christa, I have no doubt I could play most of Birdie from memory. But what if I choke in these new surroundings, when Zoe’s counting on me? I can’t stand the thought of embarrassing myself in front of her.

The room is tiny and windowless and much hotter than it is upstairs, and a bead of nervous sweat slips down my spine. I sit down on the bench and play some scales and arpeggios until my fingers feel limber and relaxed. “Okay,” I say. “I’m ready when you are.”

Zoe digs her music out of her binder and comes to stand right next to me. If she regretted last night, she’d probably try to keep some distance between us, right? “Can we start with ‘One Boy’?” she asks.

“Sure.”

I start playing, and by the time I’m through the short introduction, I already feel much better. I do know this song by heart; hundreds of songs are stored in my fingers, in my blood, in my DNA. I could play them while Marcus threw eggs at me. I could probably play them in my sleep.



I’ve never actually heard Zoe sing before, but the second she opens her mouth, it’s obvious why she got into Juilliard. Her voice is sweet and pure, perfect for Kim, and she sings the song simply, without showing off or adding any unnecessary flourishes. When I accompanied Skye a couple of weeks ago, she stared off into the middle distance as she sang, like she was performing for an invisible, adoring crowd. But Zoe sings right to me, holding eye contact for so long, it unsettles and thrills me at the same time. If she can make me feel like this in a dingy little practice room, I can only imagine what it’ll be like when she’s onstage, backed by an entire orchestra. Everyone in the audience is going to fall in love with her. It’s so easy to fall in love with someone while she’s singing.

And then I start listening to the words.

“One boy, one steady boy,

One boy to be with forever and ever,

One boy, that’s the way it should be…”

I’ve been waiting all day for a signal from Zoe about whether last night meant anything, and I think I finally have my answer. She’s gently trying to remind me that she’s straight, that she has a boyfriend, that they’ve been together for almost a year. How could I have assumed last night meant anything? She was drunk. I was there. It was a game. There’s nothing to talk about.