Page 12 of Sing Your Heart Out

He makes a face, finishing his portion of curry and pushing his plate away. “I was with Boris, who is a seventeen year old Russian with a Casio keyboard. It was extremely weird.”

I laugh. “It sounds weird. Was it productive though?”

He shrugs. “We made a song. I don’t expect it to be a hit or anything, but it was good practice. It’s good sometimes to work in a different element than you are used to. Expand your palate, work outside of your safety zone for a while.”

He shrugs again. I push a little pile of curry around my plate with my fork.

“My session today didn’t go as well as yesterday in terms of the quality of what we produced,” I admit.

The corners of his mouth curl up. God, Smith is ridiculously handsome.

“Yeah. Yesterday was a surprise, that’s for sure. I hope it wasn’t just beginner’s luck, you know? Maybe everyone had a similar experience.”

I hesitate, looking at him. Our eyes meet for several seconds. My whole body feels hot and tight.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” I whisper.

His eyes on me are so intense. He gives me a crooked smile. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

He scoots a little closer to me, his eyes dropping to my mouth. I wet my lips with my tongue, anticipating the feel of his lips.

“Get a room!” the man across from us booms.

We both jump apart, startled. I had forgotten that everyone could see us.

The world shrunk down to just Smith and I for a moment. It just seemed… destined.

The guy stands up and heads to the other side of the room. muttering. I’m red as beet.

I make eye contact with Mellie, who looks at Smith and I with an impatient expression. She cocks her head questioningly, but just then Smith stands up and grabs his plate.

“See you,” he murmurs, heading back to the kitchen.

I watch him go, pressing my lips into a thin line.

5

Smith

It’s the end of the first week. We’ve been given time to tighten up three songs — one of our own and the other two the collaborations we did earlier. Unfortunately, I don’t really have much to show for the time I put into songwriting this week. Aside from my collaboration with Sarah, which is as great as ever, I am left with two middle of the road songs.

My partner for the second songwriting challenge is a lithe young man named Nate. He sidles up to me as everyone is gathering for the judgment, looking nervous and pale.

“Hey,” he says.

I nod to him. “Hey. Are you ready?”

He looks at me with wide eyes and shakes his head. “No. I don’t have anything good to show Dee and Dwayne. No offense, I mean.” He pulls out a handkerchief and mops his brow. “All my songs really suck.”

Nodding my head again, I look off with a wince. “I’m sorry, man. You still have a chance, though.”

Nate swallows nervously. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks man.”

My head bobs. Inside, I have to admit that I don’t think much of Nate though. He had almost no ideas when we worked together, and he kept shooting down the few ideas that I had. We ended up with a third rate song at the very best. Working with him reminded me of why I want to go solo so badly.

Everyone stands in a loose circle in the common room, some people looking hangdog and other people looking confident.

Dee and Dwayne finally arrive, coming into the middle of the circle.

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