“That’s my next album,” I said. “Well, the next-next album.”
Harriet stared. “You’re kidding.”
“You did it?” Cal asked.
I felt jubilant and all-powerful. And extremely high. It was incredible.
“I told them that I’d do the Christmas album if this was the follow-up,” I said.
“Yes!” Cal pumped his fist in the air.
“You knew about this?” Harriet was still turning the CD case over in her hands as if it might reveal more information.
“It was his idea,” I said.
“Oh my god,” Harriet said. “Oh my god.”
She hugged the CD against her chest, eyes gleaming.
I was so happy.
“Let’s listen to it,” Cal said.
“Yes!” Harriet said, leaping off the bed. “Where’s the CD player?”
All of a sudden I felt self-conscious.
“We don’t have to do that,” I said.
“Uh, yeah we do,” Cal said. “You owe me.”
“I owe you?” I asked. “What about your end of the deal?”
“What are you guys talking about?” Harriet asked.
She’d found the CD player.
“Just a promise we made to each other,” I said. “That I’d push to do the kind of album I wanted if Cal asked to choreograph the next CrushZone music video.”
“Or performance,” he said.
“And?” I asked him.
He looked down at the floor.
“Cal!” I slapped his arm. “You promised. We pinky-swore! It’s like you can’t trust anyone these days.”
“Except,” Cal said, “you’re looking at the choreographer for the ‘Shore Leave’ single video.”
I shrieked. “Are you joking?”
“I take pinky promises very seriously,” he said, doing a poor job keeping the smile off his face.
I leapt off the bed and into his arms, nearly landing both of us on the floor. I hugged him tight.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said.
“I’m proud of you too,” he said, his chin against the top of my head.
His arms were wrapped around me, and they felt so good. So strong.
“I can’t believe it!” Harriet said.
She was still focused on the CD player, fiddling with the volume until my voice—small and fresh, accompanied only by her piano—grew to fill the room.
We sat there and listened. Unlike when I’d played it for Diana and watched her face intently, hoping to read her answer in her expression before she gave it, this time I closed my eyes and pretended that I wasn’t listening to myself.
The songs were good, and I sounded good.
I just didn’t sound like Katee Rose.
We’d recorded them in a rehearsal space with so-so acoustics, but the music overcame the less-than-overwhelming quality of the recording. My voice was front and center, and I handled each song with confidence and skill. It sounded beautiful. Rich and layered and steady.
“Wow,” Cal said, once we’d listened to the whole album. “That’s incredible.”
Harriet beamed, before doing a slight double take at me and Cal.
That’s when I realized we were still sitting with our arms wrapped around each other, my body all but curled up in his lap. It was weird how not weird it felt. How normal it was to be held like that. By Cal.
I didn’t want to, but I untangled myself and stood.
“You think people will like it?” I asked.
“I think people will love it,” he said.
He stood awkwardly, tugging at his jeans. I had a pretty good idea what he was adjusting. I’d felt it against my thigh.
“Excuse me,” he said.
Harriet grabbed my arm the second he left the room.
“Oh my god,” she said.
“It’s good, right?” I asked.
“I’m talking about you and Cal!”
I shushed her. “He can probably hear you.”
She didn’t seem to care, her hands tight on my arms.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“About what?”
She gaped at me. “About the fact that Cal is totally in love with you.”
The world seemed to slow to a halt, everything suddenly in slow motion.
“What?” I asked, but in my brain it sounded more like “Ww-hhh-aaaaaaaa-t?”
Harriet gave me a look that was both pitying and ecstatic. “Oh, come on,” she said. “You know he’s been in love with you forever, right? Like, since summer camp.”
I shook my head. “No way,” I said. “That’s not…true….”
But I couldn’t really deny it. I’d never told Harriet what happened between Cal and me on the roof that last night of camp, and I wasn’t sure why. She was my best friend, I told her everything, especially back then. But for whatever reason, I’d kept it a secret.
“He’s not in love with me,” I said.
Harriet gave me a look.
“Besides, I’m with Ryan,” I said, though it had been hours since I’d even thought about him.
“Oh yeah,” Harriet said. “Ryan.”
I slapped her arm. I knew she wasn’t a fan, but he was my boyfriend.
Sure, he didn’t want to spend my birthday with me because he couldn’t stand watching the kind of movies I liked the best. Okay, yeah, he’d been distracted lately and unable to make much time for me in other ways. And he had abandoned me at the Halloween party to go suck up to that film exec who hadn’t even offered him a chance to audition, but that was just how Ryan was. He was focused. He was driven. I admired that.
“Have you played him the CD?” Harriet asked.
“I was waiting to tell you first,” I said, but it was a lousy excuse.
I hadn’t even mentioned the album to Ryan, let alone expressed that I wanted to do things differently. As far as he knew, I loved being Katee Rose and was prepared to be her—to sing like her, perform like her—for the rest of my life.
“I’m going to tell him,” I said.
But Harriet didn’t look convinced.