This was so much worse than I’d expected. How on earth did Wyatt think this was going to prove anything other than the fact that I now wanted to kill him?
By the time I made it to my lunch period I thought I was going to throw up. My music was all anyone was talking about. It was even on the Trojan Tattler!
Since I’d never really had a reason to follow Northwood’s social gossip scene before, I didn’t have the Tattler app, but I instantly downloaded it after I heard everyone talking about the posts at lunch. I quickly created an account and logged on.
I settled into my hiding spot in the practice room. I’d scurried there after lunch. Today’s insanity had killed my appetite anyway, and I didn’t really want to sit around and listen to Candace and her friends laughing at me in the cafeteria. Not that I knew that they were. But they had their phones out and were giggling, so I assumed I was most likely the subject matter since it seemed my songs were all anyone could talk about.
I shook my head, half furious, half impressed. Wyatt certainly knew what it took to generate buzz. I looked down at my phone. The Tattler app mocked me, begging me to open it. But was I ready for this?
Once I saw all the things people were saying, I couldn’t unsee them. What if it shook me so badly, I couldn’t even perform on Saturday?
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was now or never. And I told myself it was better to know if I was terrible now before going up on a stage and humiliating myself in front of a full auditorium.
Without giving myself a chance to chicken out, I clicked the app and forced myself not to hyperventilate as I scrolled to find the post I was looking for.
I didn’t have to go far. It was front and center. Two tiny audio file icons glowed back at me right below a Tattler post.
Trojan Tattler:
Looks like there’s a new diva in town. Rumor has it this curious crooner wishes to stay anonymous. But I’m more interested in her partner than perfect pitch. Who is this dynamic duo? And what else have they been hiding besides their stunning sound?
Surprise swept threw me as I read the comments under the post.
@Bre-Z-babe - omg this song is everything.
@countree_gurl17 - it’s like she’s in my head.
@Stark_on_this - the words were carved from my heart.
@yas_Queen14 - secret songstress fan forever!
@11_IsStranger - another Marissa Munns!
@Pea_Key(blinderz) - her voice is life!
@Scott_E_dozent_no - I want to live in her vocal cords.
@xxTanMan420xx - this is my anthem.
Of course, there were a few crude comments from the boys who would probably never outgrow their adolescent humor, but I ignored those, focusing instead on the shocking praise my music was getting—on the Tattler of all places.
The legendary gossip site was known for making even the meanest of mean girls cry. If you could make it on the Tattler you could make it anywhere.
Again, Wyatt’s genius astounded me. Had he known what an excellent proving ground the Tattler could be for musicians to cut their teeth?
I scrolled down further, to read the next post, which was also about my music.
Trojan Tattler:
You know me, I’m all for coupling up, but even I can admit sometimes there’s nothing better than going solo. This girl is on fire. Wish we knew who the phoenix was. Don’t worry, where there’s smoke there’s ashes. We hope you burn down the house this Saturday.
I reread the post five more times, still not believing my eyes.
Was the Tattler actually rooting for me?
Tears welled in my eyes as I read the overwhelmingly positive comments from my classmates. I knew they didn’t know it was me they were complimenting, but still my chest swelled with joy as I let it sink in.
Wyatt was right, and somehow, he’d actually proved it to me.
I was good enough. I could do this!
I wished I didn’t have to wait until the end of the day to see him. I wanted another victory kiss desperately right now. But even more than that, I wanted to get on that stage Saturday and sing my heart out for all the people who were rooting for me. I wanted to prove they weren’t wrong about me.
My chest tightened as a strange realization washed over me.
When I’d first met Wyatt, I’d told him he should try to prove the world wrong once in a while. And now that he had, here I was wanting to prove the world right. What did that say about us?
The butterflies in my stomach seemed to think they knew the answer as they beat wildly.
Could it be true? Could we belong together?
The lyrics to a new song started racing through my mind.
You’re more than good for me.
Prove me right, let the whole world be wrong.
Tell me, tell me, tell me, we belong.
Chapter Fifty
Wyatt
Layne practically tackled me in the parking lot after school. I wasn’t complaining. Having her in my arms was always a bonus. But the smile on her face was the real reward.
I’d never seen her look this elated. Not even after Journeys.
It was like finally, something clicked, and she could see what I saw—that she was destined for greatness.
“I could kiss you!” she squealed after I set her back on her feet.
“I’m not stopping you,” I teased, unable to curb my flirtation completely. Hey, I was trying, but I was still a guy.
Layne gave me a playful swat. “I’m joking, Wyatt.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’re strictly partners, I remember.” But I couldn’t force the sarcasm into my voice. Not with the way she was glowing. “So, did I prove it, or what?”
“And then some,” she said, throwing her arms around me again.
“Told ya!” I swooped her off her feet again and spun her around again until she was breathless with laughter.
“Put me down,” she ordered, still laughing. “We have things to do.”
“Like what?” I asked, setting her back on her feet.
“Like upload my track to the voting page.”
I opened my passenger door and bowed deeply. “Your chariot awaits.”
She giggled as she hopped in. I jogged around to my side of the car, Franken-boot not even slowing me down. I was practically floating thanks to this stroke of luck. Now I just had to keep the ball rolling.
“I think we should send a tip in to the Tattler tomorrow to reveal your identity,” I said, as we sat at Layne’s kitchen counter.
“What? Why?”
“Well, that way kids will know who to vote for on the competition site. And I’m sure the Tattler would appreciate being the first to break the story of your identity since it helped you reach stardom.”
She laughed. “You’ve thought a lot about this.”
“Not really.”
“So that’s just how your brain works, all conniving and schemy?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
She rolled her eyes, but I could see she was considering it. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
“I wouldn’t consider it if I thought it would. Besides, if anyone goes to the competition site to vote they’ll figure out who you are anyway, right?”