The Accidentals(43)

“That is lucky,” Aurora says. Then she asks him fifty questions about the recording studio, and I hang on every word.

“Still no house yet, huh?” I ask later, putting the question to him as casually as I can, punctuating it by stealing one of his fries.

“It’s frustrating,” he says. “There aren’t many houses for sale. But the realtor is watching for me while I’m gone. The market is a little tight, but she promises something will come up.”

“What about renting?” Aurora asks.

“Same story. And I can’t live in an apartment because when I practice, it’s loud.”

Darcy comes by again. “How is everything? Can I bring anyone a refill? Another beer?” While I stare, the woman actually gives my father’s shoulders a very brief massage.

“Thanks, Darcy, but I think we’re fine,” he says.

“Wow,” I whisper after she leaves. “That was embarrassing.”

“I come here a lot,” he says with a tiny shrug.

“She is not so bad,” Aurora argues. “It’s just that she’s not afraid to show affection. You should try it sometime.” She steals one of Frederick’s fries too, and then points it at me. “Rachel has a thing for our neighbor.”

“Aurora!” I yelp. “I do not.”

“You are such a liar. You think I didn’t notice you were stalling tonight, because he gets to the dining hall late on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

Crap. “I needed to ask him for help with my calculus homework.”

Both Aurora and Frederick laugh. “Subtle,” he says.

Darcy rounds the corner to check on us for the ten-thousandth time. “Check, please,” I say a little more forcefully than is strictly necessary.

“You got it, baby.” She pats my arm, as if we’re besties.





The following night is my rush meal. And I know it will go poorly the moment Jessica opens with, “So, tell us about yourself.”

Three faces look across the table at me. In addition to the pitch, who is clearly in charge, there is another Jessica as well. My third interrogator is Daria. Of the three, she has the warmest smile.

“Well, I’m from Orlando.” That’s going to be my standard opener for the foreseeable future. “I went to a giant school with a big choral program, so there was lots of opportunity for performing.”

Their nods are polite.

“We did a bunch of choral competitions.” God, could I be any less cool? I’m a big nerd who spends a lot of time on homework. But I can’t make that sound cool.

“And what draws you to the Belle Choir?”

“I just really like your sound.” Clunk. Another dull statement. But it’s not easy to put into words how badly I need to stand in that half-circle of girls and feel the warmth of other voices vibrating around me. Singing is my favorite thing in the world, and I need that in my life. Badly. I haven’t sung a note in months, and that’s not something I can explain, either.

“Are you also auditioning for the Glee Club?” Daria asks.

“Oh! No,” I say quickly. But I can see my tactical error on their faces. Rushing only the Belle Choir is too presumptuous. “I like your repertoire best,” I add lamely. I’m flailing.

“Why don’t you tell us about the kinds of music that interest you?” Jessica suggests. “What do you listen to?”

“Right.” I’m on firmer footing when I don’t have to talk about myself. Then again, I listen to a whole lot of male singer-songwriters my father’s age and older. And isn’t that just plain weird?

Think, Rachel! “Well, for female vocals, I like the Civil Wars.” That’s a good start. “Um, Adele has great timbre, but some of her songwriting is a little poppy for my taste.”

They’re nodding along, so I kept going. “I’m a bit of a nerd about songwriters. Ingrid Michaelson is interesting to me. And Lourdes, because she did everything so young.”

“She is cool,” Daria agrees.

“For group vocals, I like some older stuff by the Indigo Girls—they always amaze me. Talk about blending voices…”

“Right?” Jessica puts in.

My brain freezes up again. But that’s when Aurora sets a cup of coffee on the table and sits down next to me. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

“This is my roommate, Aurora,” I introduce her. “This is Jessica and Jessica and Daria.”

Aurora beams at them. What I wouldn’t do for a tiny bit of my roommate’s boundless confidence. “She dragged me to your concert,” Aurora says with a smile. “You are getting the very best one with Rachel. Music is in her blood.”

I give Aurora a warning look, but she returns it with a wink.

“How’s that?” Jessica asks.

“My father is a singer-songwriter,” I say slowly. I really hadn’t planned on going there.

“Anyone we’ve heard?” she presses.

“Well…he’s Freddy Ricks.”

Both Jessicas shriek at once, stunning me. And then they begin to laugh.

“I told you that was him at the Boat House,” the pitch says, pushing Other Jessica’s shoulder. “You owe me a smoothie.”