Page 2 of Movers and Shakers

I had no idea if I wanted a friend or not, but I did know that I needed to make this guy happy if I was going to hear my songs on the radio.

“That sounds fun,” I replied. Rick’s smile told me I’d said the right thing.

“I’ll be in touch.”

He’d be in touch?Yes!

“O-okay. Thank you!”

He smiled at me one last time and then turned. The guy who’d gone on before me was behind him.

“Blaze,” Rick said. “You did your best.”

But nothing else.

I winced and watched the boy’s face fall.

But he didn’t stay down for long. His brown eyes moved to me and his smile returned. “You were fantastic.” His voice was smooth. He held out a hand. “Blaze Matthews.”

“Ro—I mean, Lila. Lila Wilde.”

“Was that written about your boyfriend?” he asked.

“No. I don’t have one of those.”

It was actually written about a day out with Mom, but I’d never admit that. I didn’t want to sound naive.

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

Tomorrow, I was supposed to go back home in the middle of nowhere and tell Mom how it had gone. But this was anopportunity. Rick would probably call and I knew it would be best to hang around. I glanced over at Dad, hoping he would be okay with staying one more day.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Why?”

“Because I think we could make a good team. I also know Rick pretty well, considering I’m friends with his daughter.”

If I knew one thing, it was that I needed to make connections in LA. I nodded, taking all of him in as if I could read his mind from one look.

I could be what he wanted. I could be whatRickwanted as well. And if it meant putting away Rose and being Lila, then I could do that too.

This dream of mine was the one selfish thing I was allowing myself, yet knowing I needed to make Rick and Blaze happy was comforting. I did my best work when it was for others and this had the potential to beeverything.

Barry

“Barry!” Ruth snapped, throwing a pillow. “Get out of my room! I’m trying to study!”

“For what?” I asked. “Another test? Who cares?”

I knew the answer.Shecared. Tom did too.

And because Dad cared.

I never saw why. If we were going to college, would the admissions office care aboutonetest? Wasn’t it the cumulative effort? Why did every single detail have to be perfect?

I’d tried to tell Ruth that, but she studied like her life depended on it. She was determined to be better than Tom, who was already top of his class.

“You need to catch up to him,”Mom had told her.“Be better than he is.”

She’d tried that on me, and it had gone in one ear and out the other.

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