Read Playing For Keeps for Free Online

she needed to spend that time in voice lessons, instead. My pencil moved across my notebook listlessly. We weren’t as prepared as I wanted to be.
    Then again, we’d played together for a couple years. Other than Bea’s new back-up singer role, how much more prepared could we be?
    When Kaitlin appeared in the living room, I looked down at my notebook. The paper was covered with swirls and patterned boxes, all drawn with shaky lines. I tossed my things back in my bag and wiped my palms on my skirt.
    “Let’s go,” I told my bandmates.
     
    *
     
    Bea, Kaitlin, and I gathered in front of the black skyscraper and stared up, counting windows, trying to locate the twelfth floor. As though doing something mundane would calm our racing hearts.
    “This will be so much fun,” Bea squealed, doing her best to lighten the mood.
    I didn’t share her sentiment. Our half hour rehearsal had gone well. Better, actually, than I’d thought it would. Bea really had worked hard on her voice and we blended in a way we never had before. We’d even practiced a couple dance moves, in case Duncan needed to see that.
    Now, though, my hair was frizzing out in back and plastered to my forehead in front. So much for looking cool in front of whoever it was we were supposed to meet today. As fat raindrops began to fall from the sky, I pulled my leather jacket tighter around my frame, even though it wasn’t cold out. Even though I was sweating underneath it. Chill, Court. You don’t even want this all that much.
    Did I?
    Bea tucked a trailing wisp of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat for the zillionth time. She’d tucked a tiny vial of olive oil in her pocket, because she’d read somewhere that it lubricated the vocal chords and would make her singing better. I asked her for a sip and she held it out of my reach.
    “No way, Court. Your voice is sultry, like a 1940’s lounge singer. I didn’t know why you’d want to smooth that away.”
    “Maybe I wanted it for my hair.”
    Bea’s laugh was half-snort and, finally, our mood was lifted.
    “The one day it rains,” Kaitlin muttered, pressing on her head to test the staying power of the hairspray in her long, fat curls.
    We entered the building lobby and gave our names to the security guard standing behind the black desk taking up half the room. He checked our names against a list on a clipboard, then printed and passed badges to us. We clipped them on our tops and walked toward the elevators he pointed at. We rode to the twelfth floor in silence, nerves creating a thick tension in the elevator. Bea nibbled on her bottom lip and looked to us for assurance. When the elevator doors opened, a young guy with brown hair and a gray vest stood waiting for us. His eyes flicked over our name badges and he waved for us to follow him down the hallway with rolled eyes and an impatient sigh.
    “I know,” I told him. God, he wasn’t even as tall as me and his tan was obviously fake. “Sad, sad starlet wannabees.”
    “Whatever,” he said, ducking into a waiting room. “Wait here.” He indicated a row of chairs against the wall and disappeared behind a door.
    “Don’t act like this in front of Duncan Prospect,” Bea warned.
    “Fine, but remember, I’m only here for you.” Bea looked pointedly at the guitar case at my feet and raised her eyebrows. “For you ,” I repeated.
    “Okay. Sure.”
    Our appointment had been scheduled for three-thirty. At ten till five, the first activity since we sat down occurred: the guy in the vest reentered the waiting room.
    “Duncan will see you now.”
    “Is everyone here on a first name basis?” I raised an eyebrow.
    “You’re not,” he said.
    I felt like a roach along the baseboards. My jaw tightened and I lifted a finger, ready to give him a piece of my mind. But Bea leapt to her feet.
    “Here we go!” Bea pushed me out of my seat and forward, grinning at Kaitlin who, to my chagrin, shared every ounce of Bea’s excitement. I gripped my