ELLE’S POV
"Miss Willsmith, your performance at the talent show was... unexpected."
The principal’s words hung in the air as I fidgeted in the too-small chair across from his desk. Being summoned to the principal's office was never a good thing in my experience.
My mind raced through recent events—was this about the vandalized locker? Had Benita filed some kind of complaint against me?
"Unexpected good or unexpected bad?" I asked, my voice smaller than I intended.
The principal's stern expression cracked, revealing a hint of a smile. "Unexpected excellent. Which is why I've called you here today."
He slid a glossy brochure across his desk. The words "Empire State Music Challenge" gleamed in gold lettering across the top, above a photo of students performing on a grand stage.
"What's this?" I picked it up, the paper cool and smooth between my fingers.
"The biggest inter-school music competition in New York. Ten schools. Ten top performers." He leaned forward, clasping his hands on his desk. "And I want you to represent De Fountain."
My jaw dropped. "Me? But I—"
"Miss Reynolds suggested you. She was quite adamant, actually."
The judge from the talent show. The world suddenly felt tilted on its axis.
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not sure I'm ready for something like this. My piano skills are..." I trailed off, thinking of my clumsy fingers on the keys, of Noah's exasperated corrections during our lessons.
Principal Holden's eyebrows shot up. "Who said anything about piano? Your voice, Miss Willsmith. That's your ticket."
"Oh." I blinked rapidly, my cheeks warming. "Right."
"Unless you'd prefer not to participate?" He reached for the brochure, but I clutched it tighter.
"No! I mean, yes—I want to." The words tumbled out before I could overthink them. "I just wasn't expecting this."
"Excellent!" He beamed, leaning back in his chair. "Now, you should know what you're getting into. The competition is fierce. These are the best young musicians from across the state."
"When is it?" I asked, scanning the brochure for details.
"Six weeks from now. Not much time to prepare, I'm afraid."
My stomach twisted. Six weeks. A lifetime and no time at all.
"What song would I perform?"
"Your choice. Something that showcases your range, your emotion." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Something that makes the judges feel what you feel when you sing."
I nodded, mind already flipping through possibilities.
"There's something else you should know," he continued, his tone growing serious. "The winner doesn't just get a trophy and bragging rights."
"What do they get?"
"A full scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music in London. Tuition, housing, expenses—all covered for four years."
The air left my lungs in a rush. "London? As in... the UK?"
"The very same." He smiled at my shock. "It's a life-changing opportunity, Miss Willsmith. One I believe you have the talent to seize."
London. The Royal Academy. A chance to study music in one of the world's greatest cities, far away from the halls of De Fountain and the ghosts of my past. It sounded like a dream—the kind too good to be true.
"What if I'm not ready?" The question slipped out, voicing my deepest insecurity.
Principal Holden regarded me with unexpected gentleness. "Nobody ever feels ready for greatness, Miss Willsmith. But sometimes you have to leap anyway."
His words echoed in my mind as I left his office, the brochure clutched in my hand like a lifeline. The hallway buzzed with between-class chatter, but I barely registered it. My thoughts raced ahead, imagining myself on that stage, imagining the possibility of London.
I needed to tell someone. The news was too big to contain, bubbling up inside me like a shaken soda can. Lucas would be excited for me—he always was. But a treacherous part of me wondered what Noah would think. Would he be impressed? Dismissive? Would he even care?
The bell rang, signaling the start of lunch period. Students poured from classrooms, the corridor filling with noise and movement. I spotted Lucas at his locker down the hall and made a beeline for him.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual despite my racing heart.
Lucas looked up, his face brightening. "Elle! Where have you been? I looked for you after history but you disappeared."
"Principal's office."
His eyebrows shot up. "Everything okay?"
"More than okay." I waved the brochure. "I just got invited to represent De-Fountain in the Empire State Music Challenge."
"No way!" Lucas's eyes widened as he snatched the brochure from my hand. "This is huge, Elle! This competition is legendary. My cousin's friend competed last year and—" He stopped, staring at something on the page. "Wait, is this right? The winner gets a scholarship to London?"
I nodded, a giddy laugh escaping my lips. "The Royal Academy of Music. Full ride."
"Holy shit." Lucas looked up at me, eyes shining. "Elle, this is your ticket. This is everything you've been working for."
"I know," I whispered, the reality of it still sinking in. "I'm terrified."
"You're going to kill it." He pulled me into a quick hug. "I'm so proud of you."
The warmth of his words wrapped around me like a blanket. This was why I'd sought him out first. Lucas always believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself.
"Come on," he said, shutting his locker. "Let's get lunch. You can tell me all about it."
We walked toward the cafeteria, Lucas peppering me with questions about the competition—what I might sing, when rehearsals would start, whether I'd need accompaniment. His enthusiasm was contagious, and by the time we pushed through the cafeteria doors, I was floating on a cloud of possibility.
Until I saw him.
Noah sat at his usual table, surrounded by his usual crowd. But today, there was a girl perched on his lap.
She had sleek blonde hair and a laugh that carried across the room. Her arm was draped around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at his nape.
My steps faltered. Lucas followed my gaze and let out a low whistle.
"Player's gonna play," he muttered. "You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" I snapped, too quickly.
Lucas gave me a look that said he saw right through me. "No reason."
We joined the lunch line, but my appetite had vanished. I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting back to Noah's table. The blonde girl whispered something in his ear that made him smile, that same smile he'd given me during our almost-kiss, the one that had made my heart race.
I grabbed an apple and a water bottle, not trusting my stomach with anything more substantial. As we made our way to an empty table, we had to pass by Noah's group. I kept my eyes forward, determined not to look at him.
But like a magnet drawn to the true north, my gaze betrayed me. For just a moment, our eyes met across the crowded cafeteria.
A jolt of electricity shot through me, just as it had that day by his car. For a heartbeat, the noise and chaos of the lunch period faded away, and it was just us.
Then, deliberately, Noah looked away. His arm tightened around the blonde girl's waist as he turned his attention back to his friends, a clear dismissal.
The rejection stung like a slap.