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fun, brave, and hot.”

I tried to smile but it fell flat. I leaned my forehead against his chest and it wasn’t until his shoulders tensed that I realized we were out in the open. I took a step back. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking around to see if anyone had seen us. A few guests walked the path and a car was backing out in the parking lot, but that was it.

“No, it’s fine,” Brooks said.

“I just need…” I pointed over my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I left without looking back.

The morning of the audition arrived and as Maricela braided small braids along the side of my head and clipped them with fat bobby pins behind my right ear, my stomach did a million somersaults. I’d spent the night playing and replaying my conversation with Shay in my head. Wondering if I should’ve said more or less. Wondering if those were the last words we’d ever exchange. Then I reminded myself about the audition and proceeded to forget all the words to the song I was supposed to sing and had to say them over and over again until I convinced myself that I hadn’t forgotten them. I had hardly gotten any sleep.

“What about these?” Tia held up a pair of combat boots. They’d already picked out my whole outfit and were now accessorizing it.

Maricela looked over, a bobby pin in her mouth. “Yes, I love those. What size are you?”

“Seven and a half,” I said.

“They’ll be a little big, but you’ll be sitting on a stool, right?”

“Right.”

Tia shoved them in a backpack along with some other supplies they’d equipped me with—bright red lipstick, some silver bangle bracelets, glittery eyeshadow. Basically the things I couldn’t waltz through camp in or it would be obvious.

“How did things go with your parents this morning?” Maricela asked. “And what did they say about the spa tickets?”

“I told them I was going to a hair tutorial.”

“You did not,” Tia said.

I smiled. “No, I didn’t. I actually didn’t have to tell them much. Just said I was checking out the archery range. And they were so excited about the spa but wondered how I got the passes.”

“Oh, right,” Maricela said. “Didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah, neither had I. So I ended up telling them I won them at some lake competition.”

“Wow, nice save.”

“Yeah, thanks. I actually can’t wait until this is over because I hate lying to my parents and my sister.”

“So you’re planning to lose today?”

I gave a breathy laugh. I hadn’t analyzed it, but she was totally right. I had been viewing today as the end.

“That looks so good, Mari,” Tia said, studying the braids.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She patted my shoulders when she was finished. “Well, even if you lose, at least you’ll look good doing it.”

Tia laughed. “Great pep talk.”

“Come on, you need to go.”

After Brooks and I checked in at the venue in Roseville—an art deco–style theater—I went to the bathroom to apply the finishing touches to my look. I was surprised I had the whole counter and mirror to myself. I looked under the doors to the stalls; those were empty too. “Huh.”

I unloaded the contents of the backpack onto the counter and suddenly wished Lauren was with me. She could’ve helped me get ready and her constant chatter would’ve eased my nerves.

I held up the black tank Maricela had decided on, making sure the holes wouldn’t hit me in the wrong places. It looked pretty safe, but I was still going to wear the red and blue flannel over the top of it.

It took me maybe ten minutes to finish everything and when I stepped back and looked in the mirror I felt…like I was going to puke. I looked good, but my stomach was rolling and my head felt light. I rushed to the first stall and stood above the toilet for a moment. Nothing happened.

“You can do this, Avery. You’ve been doing this. You’ve been having fun, even.” I drew in a deep breath, collected my backpack, and went to find Brooks.

Brooks sat on one of the folding chairs that had been set up in a holding area. The room was full of bands and their friends, waiting for their turn to try out.

“Hey,” I said, sitting next to him and dropping the boots on the floor, the last thing I needed to put on.

Brooks looked up from his phone (it was weird seeing him distracted by one of those), gave me a once-over, and said, “That works.”

“Really? That’s the best you got?”

“You look hot,” he said with a smirk.

“Better.”

“Oh, I have our numbers.” He retrieved a white square with the number thirty-seven on it from a stack of papers. He peeled off the back and was about to stick it on my shorts when he must’ve realized what he was doing. “Sorry, here.”

“It’s fine,” I said, pulling on the bottom of my shorts to create a flat surface.

He stuck it on and smoothed it out. His eyes went to mine and then shot down again and he resettled himself in his chair. “I’m really excited,” he said. “Because it seems there are very few girl lead singers. I think we might have a chance at this.”

“Yeah, the bathroom was a ghost town.” I leaned over and pulled on my boots, then started lacing them up. “Wait, you think we might have a chance because I’m one of the only girls?”

“Yes…Well, I mean, no, that’s not the only reason. We have good material and you sing great. I’m just saying, I think it gives us an even better shot.”

“Remind me never to ask you to give a motivational speech,” I said.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m really bad at this. It’s because I feel super confident in you.”

“Okay, okay, you’re warming up,” I said, but my stomach was still rolling around, somehow having freed itself from the rest of my organs.

Brooks was staring at

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