“Nonsense,” Mom says, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I remember my own Harvest Ball. It’s the social event of the season. We need to find you something to wear. I’ll take you dress shopping! After the concert, you’ll have earned a fun night out with your friends. Tell her, sweetheart.”
Her excitement has given her a whole new lease of life. She’s never worked. She keeps her days busy with beauty appointments, shopping, and social engagements.
“Your mother’s right,” Dad agrees, to my surprise. “We must continue as normal. You will perform at the concert and attend the ball. How will it look if my daughter doesn’t go? We’re a high-profile family. We have influence here.”
“I guess I’ll go then,” I mumble. “We don’t have to go shopping, though. I have plenty of dresses in my closet.”
Unworn dresses she keeps buying that I’ll never wear.
“You need something new. I’ll go to the mall later today,” she insists. Her tone becomes animated as her mind strays to browsing racks, searching for the perfect piece. “I’ll find something for you.”
“You really don’t have to,” I object.
“Let your mother spoil you, Erin,” he says. He’s always nicer after they argue, even if it never lasts. “Don’t be ungrateful.”
“Will you be chaperoning this year, Dad?” I ask.
His lips purse. As much as he wants to keep an eye on me, his presence will draw a lot of attention after Sunnycrest’s recent publicity.
“I’m sure I can trust you alone at school for one night,” he says. “Can’t I?”
Mom laughs, but he’s not joking.
This is a test.
A test I can’t fail…
CHAPTER
EIGHT
ERIN
“Places, everyone!”Mr. Meyer paces backstage. His wild, bloodshot eyes keep darting back and forth, while he mutters under his breath about symphonies, sheet music, and checks to see if the instruments are tuned. “We’re almost ready to start.”
Ten students are performing in the concert showcase for the academy board, parents, other students, and a select group of college recruiters. The academy’s main auditorium stage is transformed for the occasion, now sporting thick red curtains and spotlights.
A violinist next to me turns gray and bolts to the restroom for the fourth time. The pressure is high. A few of the musicians, including the barfer, are scholarship kids, so tonight has the potential to decide their entire future. Even if I got offered a full ride on a program of my dreams, I won’t be allowed to go.
A knock on the door interrupts Mr. Meyer’s musings. A pimply freshman enters with a giant bunch of flowers in his hands.
“I have a delivery for Erin Acacia,” the freshman says.
“Give them here!” Mr. Meyer snatches them from him and throws the purple carnations at me. “Is that all?” he snaps at the flower delivery boy. “Why are you still standing here? Out!”
The bouquet is gorgeous. Understated yet elegant. I hunt around in the petals for a note, but there’s nothing.
“Someone has a secret admirer,” a performer whispers in my ear. “Is it true you’re dating Nate Holt?”
I blush. “We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are,” she replies sarcastically, checking the strings on her violin. “That totally looks like flowers you send to someone you’re ‘just friends’ with.”
Mr. Meyer glowers at me. “If we’re done with interruptions, we have a concert to play…”
He runs through the lineup for the millionth time, then hurries away to check whether the first performer has finished emptying his stomach.
I’m up last, so I’ve got plenty of time to kill. The atmosphere in the waiting room offstage is tense. Others practice tricky chords, but there’s nothing I can do when the grand piano is already onstage.
