Page 64 of Witchful Thinking
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend? Can I wear your varsity jacket in study hall?” she asked.
Alex grinned to himself. He’d been on the swim team and wore that jacket every single day during the entire season.
“Maybe,” Alex said. He pulled her in and kissed her. Her blood pounded and her body grew hot with want.
Throughout the night, they kept finding ways to touch each other. A brush against his thigh. A kiss to the neck. No matter how this night ended, she was going home with him.
Ursula was called to the stage. She sang a Madonna pop ballad that had the room swaying with synth eighties nostalgia. When she was done, Lincoln rewarded her with a sweet kiss. Marcus bowed out early for the evening, wishing them both good luck.
“Do your best, Lu,” Alex said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “I’m right here.”
The DJ’s voice boomed overhead.
“Lucy C, report to the stage! Lucy C, you’re our final singer of the night.”
Ursula clapped. Alex whooped. Lincoln tapped his finger against his empty bottle. Lucy went to the stage and picked up the mic from the waiting stool. The instrumental track kicked in; Lucy swayed to the soaring piano and bass line. Her eyes darted briefly to the screen. She didn’t need the help; she knew the words by heart. She’d listened to this song throughout college; it had been the balm to her bruised heart. The words lit up. She brought the mic to her mouth. Showtime.
Her voice, deep and throaty, came over the audio system.
A few patrons sat up and nodded at her. Suddenly, halfway through the first chorus, the mic went out. Lucy tapped it, but the mic powered down. Panic rolled through her. She noticed a handful of patrons hold up their cell phones, ready to record a viral disaster.
The wish struck again. There was an odd pause as the audience yelled that they couldn’t hear. She glanced over to her booth, stunned. Ursula cringed and covered her face. Lincoln smirked and watched with a light of glee in his eyes. Strangers ran out, not wanting to watch her fail.
Alex stood up. Sing to me, he mouthed, not breaking eye contact with her.
He wasn’t going to leave. Relief, cool like a glass of water, washed through her chest. She wasn’t alone. Lucy dropped the dead mic on the floor, her attention on him. She didn’t want to break this spell and gestured to the DJ to keep the song playing. The DJ lowered the track volume enough so her voice carried out to the room. She belted out the song. Tomorrow she wouldn’t have a voice, but if he heard her tonight, she didn’t care.
Lucy heard people cheer for her to keep going and encouraged her, but all she saw was Alex. She sang strong and clear, digging within herself to hit each lyric. She sang for the dreams she’d abandoned and for the wishes she wanted to come true. Tears blurred her vision, but she kept her attention on Alex. He didn’t look away once. All the things she wished for with him burst inside of her with every note, every lyric. Lucy sang everything she couldn’t say to him without breaking her heart. She wanted him to stay.
The song was winding down, but she kept on singing. Finally, someone handed her a working mic; she brought it to her lips and sang out the last line. The entire room erupted once she finished. Everything happened in a blur. Lucy rushed into Alex’s arms, or Alex pulled her to him. He kissed her tears away, cradling her face and whispering words of support.
Yeah, it was real.
Chapter Seventeen
The champ is here,” Alex said, holding Lucy’s arm up in the air. She felt like a heavyweight champion of Freya Grove. Lucy held out the medium-size trophy, a shiny gold star atop a round base engraved with the words “Third-Place Winner.” It sparkled underneath the streetlights as they walked down Summerfield Street. The smell of impending rain was pungent in late-night air.
“I shouldn’t be so happy about third place, but I’m pumped.” Lucy tucked the trophy to her side. “I’ve never won anything.”
“You also won the Most Memorable Award.” Alex had watched as the bar patrons chanted her name when asked to vote for their favorite performance. The DJ gave her the award and even requested an encore song from Lucy. By that time, Ursula and Lincoln had gone home, while Lucy led everyone in a sing-along to the karaoke classic “Piano Man” by Billy Joel.
“Tomorrow no one will remember the third-place finisher of a local bar’s karaoke contest.”
“I will,” Alex said. He took her hand in his and squeezed. “I’m proud of you.”
She smiled up at him. “What? You’re proud of me for not shutting up?” Her voice was a little raw, but there was a new strength behind it.
“You didn’t give up. I think I would’ve run off stage and cried in the bathroom.”
“I had a song to sing,” Lucy said firmly. “I should put this trophy away before the gnomes see it.”
They finally reached their houses. He was to the left; she was to the right. He didn’t want this night to end. He wanted to stay with her a little longer.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Now?” Lucy laughed. “It’s almost midnight.”
“I finished the main bedroom.”