I woke to the alarm on my cell phone vibrating silently under my hand. After the second day’s fiasco when my rather loud cell woke Alice from her “beauty sleep,” I had changed the setting on my phone in order to let her sleep a little longer. As back up, my watch also had a tinny alarm that was set to go off five minutes after the primary. That gave me some time in the morning before I actually had to get up.

Reluctantly, I left my bed for the chillier room, slipping on my simple slippers before braving the tile floor of the bathroom. I went through the routine of washing my face and brushing my teeth, giving my body the chance to get used to the temperature.

Quickly, I dressed in the “formal” uniform, the black pants and white oxford shirt, since today was Friday, and began running a brush through my hair. I pulled my phone out of my covers to check on the date. August 26… A month until the auditions for that club. Sighing, I slipped my phone into my pocket after I turned it off. I didn’t even know why I was considering trying out. I didn’t like performing. I had the worst case of stage fright that I had ever known. I just couldn’t get up in front of people.

I slipped all of my books and homework into my backpack, thinking over the weekend. I’d probably spend it reading or writing again... then I remembered that every student was required to join at least one club, and that the clubs met on Saturdays. Wondering what kind of club I would end up joining, I replaced my brush and applied my makeup.

I sat on my bed and pulled out my laptop, turning down the volume as I waited for it to start up. Leaning back into my pillow, I sat up again as I heard Alice stir above me. I checked my watch. She was getting up early, it was only about six-twenty. I moved into the next room, not wanting to deal with her yet.

Quickly, I was caught up in typing out my most recent poem from one of my notebooks.

Finally, my watch read 6:45, and I quietly replaced my computer into its case and slid it beside my desk. Hefting my backpack, I walked down the steps to the cafeteria.

School had started this past Monday, so I had learned my way around the campus pretty quickly. I had a tendency to avoid the athletic fields and the gym, but I was at least able to find all my rooms without help. I knew the names of all of my teachers, and had memorized both mine and Ali’s schedule, since they were practically identical. Ali had lost her paper after the first day, and basically depended on me to show her where to go. Eventually, I entered the cafeteria, and pulled out a notebook as I waited for Ali, Lily, Shelby, and Phoebe to show up.

“You know, I heard the school had a creative writing club,” I heard Ali comment from above me. She sounded amused, and I looked up, embarrassed.

“Yeah!” Lily joined in enthusiastically, sitting down across from me. “I’m planning on joining. I think it would be fun.”

“Don’t you have to write something every week, though?” Shelby pointed out.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. I could just write a poem or something!” Lily argued back. She and Shelby began debating over the quality of writing forced on a person, with Phoebe occasionally adding her input. Ali smiled at their antics in a “why am I friends with people like this again?” look on her face.

“They’re just as crazy as me…” she sighed, turning back to me. “You know, now that I think about it, you never have a notebook far from your hand,” she pointed out. “What do you write all the time?”

“Well,” I said, nervously, “Poems, a lot, but I keep a journal on my laptop, and—”

Lily turned away from the argument with a look of surprise on her face. “Why didn’t you mention you had a laptop?”

Ali nodded to her roommate. “Computer programmer,” she said, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did.

I nodded. Lily’s look turned to one of interest. “Can I come over and see it sometime?”

“I’ll bring it over to your room tomorrow,” I suggested instead. I’d managed to keep the fact that I had to room with Alice a secret from Ali so far, and it would stay that way if I had anything to say about it.

“Speaking of tomorrow,” Ali interrupted, “What clubs are you guys thinking of joining?”

“There’s an anime club!” Phoebe said immediately, casting a hero-worshipping glance in my direction. I shifted uncomfortably, still not used to having a fangirl. I shook my head, wordlessly telling her I wouldn’t be joining.

“The creative writing club,” Lily said stubbornly.

Shelby shook her head at the answer, then paused, considering. “I might join that one too, actually. I write some songs sometimes, I bet they would accept that.”

“What about you, Amy?” Ali asked, turning to me.

“I don’t really know, yet. Probably creative writing.”

Ali grinned. “Phoebe, you should join the writing club, too, that way we’ll all be in it. We could write a story together!”

“What a geeky idea,” I heard Alice sneer as she walked by our table.

“Yeah? Well, what club are you joining?” Lily shot back.

“Gymnastics,” she said snobbishly.

“Perfect,” Ali said, mockingly. “You can show off that body of yours by squeezing yourself into a leotard, and prove to all the boys how good you’d be in bed on the floor, you slut.”

“What did you just call me?!” Alice squealed, outraged.

“You heard me!” Ali said, standing and taking a step forward.

I stood too, placing a hand on her shoulder, half to hold her back, half to calm her down. “Ali, there’s a teacher in here. Don’t, please?” I asked softly, trying to avoid trouble.

She looked at me, and sat, slouching down in her chair sulkily. “Fine…”

I sat, too, relieved that a crisis had been averted. Alice just huffed and walked over to the table where the rest of the “in-crowd” had convened, and sat next to Ryan, immediately beginning to flirt with him. Mr. Winters, the teacher I had pointed out, picked up his paper again, seeing that he wouldn’t have to break up a cat fight.

“Really, Ali, usually it’s boys who end up starting fights, not girls.”

“Yeah, yeah…” she said, flopping a hand in Shelby’s direction and sitting up again, folding her arms on the table instead.

Phoebe continued to munch on her eggs as Lily nodded sagely while downing her second cup of coffee. Shelby rolled her eyes, munching on toast. “Ali, you know that we’re more outcasts than anything else. I mean, a lot of the people here consider us as a manga nerd, a computer geek, a band geek, a bad-girl, and a goody-two-shoes,” she shrugged apologetically in my direction. I nodded understandingly.

“I know that!” Ali snapped. “I just wish people wouldn’t label us!” she slammed her fist down on the table, bumping the spoon sticking out of her bowl of cereal, sending milk and Pops flying into the air and splattering it into everyone’s hair. The table, minus Ali, cracked up, as I sopped up the milk on the table with napkins. The tension effectively broken, Ali waited for a pause in the laughter before saying petulantly, “I meant to do that,” which just sent all of us this time into giggles.

Still laughing, we stood up to throw away our soggy food and headed on to our classes.

Lily and Phoebe were in Ms. Lee’s homeroom, and Shelby, Ali, and I were in Mr. Wolfe’s. We split to go to our lockers and then met up again in homeroom—same as we had all week. Ali was chatting with Shelby about getting a band together for Club Arte. “After all, that’s a club, right? I mean, if we joined that, we would only have to go for rehearsals and performances. I could be lead singer, you lead guitar, Robert could do drums, and I think Alex Moon plays the piano… we could manage to convince him to play keyboard I think…”

Shelby nodded thoughtfully. “I think you have to play songs you’ve written, though. How are we going to manage that?”

Ali slung one arm around my shoulder. “From our own prolific writer here. C’mon, Amy, think about it?”

I sighed, considering my options. I had already turned down the offer of first chair in band, and I wasn’t going to be an official member of the band… I’d just write their songs. “If Robert and Alex don’t mind,” I started, but a victorious shout from Ali cut me off.

“YES! Hey, Robert! Get over here!”

The incessant tapping ceased. “What?” the dark skinned boy shouted back.

“We’re starting a band for Club Arte. Wanna be drummer?”

There was a pause as he considered. “Sure, okay. Shelby’ll be in it, right? Who’s keyboard?”

“We’re hoping Alex. I’m going to be lead singer and Amy’ll write the songs.”

I sunk down in my chair. She was shouting this across the classroom. “Ali…” I moaned, worried that attention would be drawn to me.

“Don’t worry,” she said cheerfully. “Hardly anyone is up from breakfast yet. Just Jessica, Michael, Ryan, and the four of us.”

“Ryan?!” I squeaked, turning to see the boy who had just walked in and was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“You write?” he said, smirking and sitting on my desk. “Write something for me.”

“Er…” I gulped, wishing I had the courage to push him off the desk.

“Ryan thinks that he’s all that, Wish that he’d just turn his back. Glad he’s not mine, Reminds me of slime, The idiot whose eye should be black.” Ali said, apparently coming up with it on the spot. I blinked, slightly impressed, while Ryan turned purple with anger.

Ali just sat there, smug. I suppose that if I were Ryan, I would have looked like I wanted to punch her too, but luckily he just walked away instead. Ali laughed, just adding fuel to his fire. I was tempted to tell her to be quiet, but it was funny… I ended up smiling as well instead.

School itself went fairly well. I was beginning to realize that Mr. Winters wasn’t as evil as I thought he was at the beginning of the week, Ms. Lee always had a joke or a laugh that could help, Mr. Wolfe was very helpful with questions about almost any subject (his one blind spot was history), Ms. Popper seemed to like me a lot, and even Mrs. Awning wasn’t that bad as long as I stayed awake in her class.

I was working on my homework in the dorm after school while the other three were putting it off and doing each other’s hair in the main room. I finished off the rough draft for the “Where I Stand” paper of Ms. Lee’s that she had assigned to properly get to know us, and slipped it away in one of my few school notebooks.

I stood and walked into the other room, craving human contact after three hours of focusing on school work. I grabbed my laptop, deciding to show it to Lily now rather than later. I passed by the other girls, the laughter pausing as I went by, and crossed the hall to Ali’s room. I knocked on the door carefully, remembering my first introduction to her roommates.

Silence.

Somehow, that was worse than the shouts of the pillow fight.

I tried the knob. Unlocked… This is the time that the creepy music starts playing, and I walk in and find their bodies ritualistically murdered... I decided, then opened the door and stepped inside. The room was empty. No blood on the walls, thank goodness.

I walked around the couch and over to one of the bedrooms, the one that had light coming from it. I knocked on that door, and immediately opened it, trying to shake off the last few mental images inspired by Psycho.

Immediately, I was tackled by Ali. “AMY!!” she turned around, letting go of me and giving me a chance to breathe to declare to the rest of the room, “See, I told you we should have invited her!”

“You never said anything about that, you liar,” Phoebe commented, sprawled across the top bunk.

Shelby nodded from her sitting position at the head of the bottom bunk, finishing, “As usual, you just got an idea and went along with it.”

Lily laughed. “They’ve definitely got you there, Ali!”

Ali just grinned. “Well, we would have realized someone was missing soon enough, and then I would have gone to get her. So let’s just go with that.”

I was just confused. “Ali, two questions.” She turned to me expectantly. “One, what idea? Two, is it legal?”

Lily, Shelby, and Phoebe started laughing, while Ali just sulked. “Yes, it’s legal!” she protested over the giggles. “We were going to start working on creating our characters for that story.” I settled down on the bed, balancing my laptop on my legs.

“Alright, then, what have you guys—?” Suddenly, I was tackled again, this time by Lily.

“Ohmygosh, you brought your laptop!” I squeaked, and almost dropped it, but managed to not fall over from Lily’s overly enthusiastic hug. “What kind is it?” she demanded.

“Er, I think it’s a Dell? It was the cheapest one I could find…” I shrugged. “Kind of basic, I just needed a typing program. It gets wireless, and I’ve got a few games, but that’s really all I use it for. It’s mainly for Microsoft Word that I have it for anyway,” I explained. “I’m a faster typist than I am writer, so I write in notebooks during school hours, and then transfer it into the computer when I get back to the dorm.”

Shelby coughed lightly, pulling a few sheets of crumpled notebook paper out from under the brunette. “You sat on our work, Lily.”

“Oops?” she offered. “Well, at least you can still read it.” She snatched the papers from Shelby and handed them to me. “Here, put these into the computer.”

I nodded, and switched to the floor, leaning against the ladder to type them in. Ali sat next to me to lean her head on my shoulder as I typed. I mentally shrugged, and let her. I mean, I only used my hands for typing, so it wouldn’t be harder or anything…

This started a weekly powwow for the five of us. Every Friday, I would go over and work with them on the story, which we quickly titled “Eternal Sacrifice”. We discussed character relationships, quotes that we had heard during the week that might work well in context, and of course the plot.

We always got off topic about half the time, though.

“Speaking of clothes, what are you guys going to wear tomorrow?” Ali asked, again leading the topic away from the story.

“I’ve got a pair of jeans and a Rurouni Kenshin t-shirt,” Phoebe said thoughtfully.

Shelby shrugged. “Probably my black jeans and that green shirt I showed you. The V-neck?”

“Blue jeans and my dragon t-shirt for me. Ali, what about you?”

She laughed. “Am I the only one wearing a skirt? I’ll have a tank top to go with it.” She turned and looked at me expectantly.

“I’m not really one for clothes, but…” I trailed off. The truth was, I hadn’t realized that I would be spending the weekend at the school, too. I hadn’t packed any regular clothes. I shrugged. “Probably the uniform. I kind of forgot to pack street clothes…”

“WHAT?” Ali almost shouted. “Oh, you poor girl!” She said, hugging me tightly around the neck. Lily patted my head sympathetically, while Phoebe and Shelby laughed, hopefully at the others’ antics. I felt like I was about to fall over. “You’ll just have to borrow some of mine,” Ali decided.

“Wait, what?” it was my turn to ask. From what I had seen of Ali’s uniform, she had an affinity for short skirts. I didn’t.

“Well,” Shelby oh-so-helpfully pointed out, “Lily and I are both too tall for you, and Phoebe is too short. If you’re going to borrow clothes, it’ll have to be Ali.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t want you to get embarrassed…” she said, grinning in a way that made me doubt her sincerity. “I have a few pairs of jeans, too. You don’t have to wear a skirt. Though considering your day skirts are all apparently knee length… I mean, come on, don’t you want to show off some leg?”

“No.”

She sighed. “Fine… will you at least wear a V-neck?”

“Alright… but back to the story, guys?”

“Actually,” Phoebe said, yawning, “It’s getting kind of late.”

Checking my clock on the computer, I agreed. “It is ten. We probably ought to go to bed. I’ll work on developing my character more, if you guys will. This idea sounds like we might be able to pull it off!”

Waving good bye to the rest of the group, I returned to my own room and went to bed.

The next morning, I woke earlier than most would on a Saturday. After donning my Friday uniform, preferring pants over the skirt, I walked across the hall way to see if any of them were up yet.

None of them were, which was understandable, since it was about eight or so. So, I returned to my room and began to type up a bio for my character. Around nine-thirty, after the rest of the girls in my room had gone, I ventured across the hallway again.

Lily and Phoebe were the only two who were up. “Do they realize that breakfast is over now, or not?” I asked rhetorically. Phoebe seemed to be the one who was more awake right now, so I turned to her. “I’ll wake up Ali if you’ll wake up Shelby?” I offered.

“Sure!” Phoebe agreed cheerfully, and entered the lair of the dragon—Lily and Shelby’s room. Five seconds later there was a screech, and Phoebe raced through the door, followed by a dripping Shelby. Lily started laughing, while I just retreated to Ali’s room.

I took the more conventional method of shaking her shoulder. “Ali. Come on, Ali, wake up.” Seeing that this wasn’t working, I yanked the covers off. Reluctantly, she sat up.

“What time is it…?” she yawned.

“Nine-thirty. You missed breakfast.” I told her, blushing lightly. “And if everything you own is that skimpy, I’ll stick with the uniform, thanks.”

“Whaaaa…?” she asked. “Oh, no, you’re borrowing my clothes,” she finished, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. She walked over to the closet and pulled out a pleated black skirt and a red lacy tank top. Seeing my wary glance at the outfit, she explained, “No, this is what I’m wearing. I already have an outfit for you.” She winked, and flounced into the bathroom.

I gulped, and waited nervously for her to come out. “There,” she said, opening the door. “now, I know you won’t be comfortable in any of my skirts, though I have one I know would look great on you, so put these on,” she said, tossing me a pair of jeans from the closet, “And this shirt,” she said, passing a sleeveless deep blue V-neck to me. “It matches your eyes, I think.” She turned, and seeing my reluctance, began to push me into the bathroom.

Five minutes later, my hair bound up into a ponytail instead of my usual braid, Ali and I walked into the other room. It was already ten, so we went downstairs and over to the school building to attend the club meetings.

Ms. Lee sponsored the creative writing club. Our meeting was brief, mainly an introduction to the rules (Rule #1—NO PLAGERIZING) and the president (a bad boy senior that immediately took a liking to Ali). Richard explained that we could write in a group if we wanted, but we would also have to submit an individual work each week.

“It can be anything—a poem, song, short story, next chapter of a novel, essay, whatever I’m leaving out… Just write something.”

The group collectively nodded. Overall, there were seven juniors, four seniors, three sophomores, and five freshmen—the five of us. Everyone looked friendly enough, and the upperclassmen were actually really nice. One of the sophomores recognized me from my Algebra II class, and came over to the five of us and introduced herself. Her name was Alex, she’d joined the club last year, and if any of us needed some help, Richard was really good at giving prompts.

“Speaking of prompts,” Richard called, having over heard her, “I’m going to give all of you one each week. It’s up to you if you use it or not. This week’s is…” he paused, I guess thinking one up. “Candle. Have fun, everyone! Meeting adjourned!”

Candle… I pondered, feeling inspiration tugging at my brain already. I followed the rest of the group out, hanging a left and heading down a different stairwell that would let off on the arts section of the senior floor. From there, I made my way back to the dorm, wanting to put down on paper the ideas fighting each other in my mind.

I spent the majority of my free time that week scribbling in a notebook and feverishly typing out my piece on the computer. I didn’t know what the rest of the group was writing, I think an introduction to their characters.

The next time I actually paid attention to any of them was at the next meeting, when I… well, for lack of a better word, snapped out of it.

“Guys, I am so sorry. I really didn’t mean to do that… I just… I had an idea, and I needed to fine tune everything, and… I’m making excuses. Please, accept my apology.”

They looked at each other for a heart pounding moment. Then, Shelby sighed, Phoebe laughed, Lily smiled, and Ali rolled her eyes. “Gee,” she added, “You don’t have to be so formal about it. Inspiration, huh? Can I read what you wrote?”

I handed her a typewritten page. She grinned. “A week spent on half a page? I’d have expected it to be at least ten pages.” She laughed at my embarrassed expression. “Now I know what you meant by fine tuning.” She quietly began to read it aloud, so that only the group could hear.

“Someone once said that to spread light around the world, you can either be the candle or the mirror that reflects it. But what happens, Ms. Wharton , when you’re neither?

“But then, I’d assume that you were only thinking about humans.

“I cannot be the candle, for a candle is fire, warmth, in a way life itself. I cannot be the candle, for I am undead. And how can I be the mirror, when mirrors themselves will not show my face? Simply said, again, I cannot.

“So what am I, you ask?

“Every figure has a shadow, every light has a darkness, every right has a wrong. Without us, without the dark ones, the ones that do not reflect and the ones that do not shine themselves, there is no light. Everything needs a corresponding opposite.

“Demonio.

“Nosferatu.

“Duivel.

“Vampire.

“Call us what you will, but our kind has been around millennia longer than yours has. And will be around for longer. We are your species opposite, your predator. You need us, whether you know we exist or not. Whether you’ll admit we exist or not.

“Most of you don’t, or won’t. As far as I can tell, we have to be extremely blatant if we want you to know we’re there. Luckily for you, most of us don’t, and you’re able to write our movements off as the wind, or your imagination.

“The human imagination is a wonderful thing, is it not? For surely, your kind would all be insane if you knew half of what exists around you.

“But that is not my secret to tell.”

There was a long pause as Ali finished reading. She looked up at me with very wide eyes. “Please tell me you’re not going to suck my blood or anything…”

I laughed. “No. Not all of my characters are based off of me, you know. In fact, hardly any of them are.”

Phoebe looked starry eyed, staring off into the distance. “Can I marry your character, Amy?” The rest of our group looked at her strangely, but she took no notice.

“Er… sure?” I finally ventured.

Lily almost tackled me. “Oh, my god, Amy, you are now officially in charge of writing Eternal Sacrifice! What do you think, Shelby?”

Shelby had stolen the hard copy and was looking over it thoughtfully. “I really like it. This one part, where you’re saying “vampire” in other languages, I like the way you stack them on top of each other like that.” She nodded decisively and handed it back to me. “I like it.”

I nodded, and turned it in on Ms. Lee’s desk, where Richard had told us to put them.

My weeks quickly fell into a pattern—avoiding Alice, April, and May as much as I could, spending time with Ali, Phoebe, Lily and Shelby, classes, meetings, writing, and of course rehearsals.

The tryout for Club Arte went well. Our band, “The Unidentified,” made the cut. Ms. Popper and Mr. Schneider loved their music, and Ms. Lee told me that the song I had written (named for the band), would get me into the club as well. There would be a performance right before winter break, December 16, a Friday.

I worked constantly on our performance song, trying to get the tune to sound just right. The drums would play quietly, and use the brush sticks to get the right sound, with an occasional hit on the cymbal. The lead guitar would have a solo in the middle of the song, but otherwise would play a soft rhythm, doubling as the bass, since we didn’t have one. The keyboard would be the one with the melody, harmonizing itself by following the chords that the lead guitar had. And the vocals would be above it all. The song I had written started softly, beginning only with the keyboard, then vocals, and the after the first refrain the drums would start in, and the guitar.

If we could pull it off right, and the boys were willing to play the love song, then I thought that we could have a pretty good chance of people liking the band.

Of course, that was before Alex broke his wrist in a basketball game…

Ali and I walked into Latin on December 9, a week before the big day, only to find Alex with his left arm in a cast. “What happened?!” I yelped.

Alex shrugged. “Remember that fall in the last quarter? Turns out I have a fractured left radius. Greenstick, so it should be healed relatively soon.”

“By next week?” Ali snapped.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Shit! The performance!”

“Yes,” I sighed, sitting down in my customary seat. “The concert. How are we going to manage without a keyboardist? You know that I featured keyboard on that piece! We can’t rewrite it and rehearse!” I moaned, placing my head in my arms on my desk. “What are we going to do?”

“We need to get another keyboardist…” Alex mused. “And someone who’s willing to practice and play the piece…”

It was now that a horrible thought occurred to me. My first instrument was the piano, which was the whole reason I’d gotten so into music. I had written the piece, I already knew how to play it. I had written it at a keyboard in the band room, for God’s sake!

I could play the piece.

And there was no way in hell I was letting that piece fall through the floor because of a chance accident.

“I’ll do it.” I blurted out.

Both looked at me worriedly. “What?” Ali asked.

“I wrote the piece. I can play piano. I’ll do it. We’ll have to tell Ms. Belle, but I don’t think she’ll mind. I mean, I’m a part of the band as your songwriter, and if we explained what happened with Alex’s arm, then that should be fine, right? I mean—”

“Amy,” Ali cut me off, smiling slightly. “You’re babbling.” I looked down, embarrassed. “Are you sure that you want to? I mean, we can find someone else…”

“No.” I looked up. “Look, I know that I can do this. I’m not letting us not perform. I can play piano, my mom played and wanted me to as well so that I could learn to read music. I started lessons when I was six.”

Ali was shaking her head, smiling slightly. “I never would have expected you of all people to have this much backbone. You certainly like to surprise me, hm?”

I shrugged uncomfortably, fidgeting slightly. “If I can stop something that I helped create from failing, then…”

Ali nodded. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” She glanced over at Alex, who was still staring me, slack jawed. She laughed, and clapped loudly in front of his face to wake him up.

He blinked. “Well, that was easy…”

“Alright, everyone,” Mrs. Awning interrupted, coming through the door. “Does everyone have their review sheet for the exam?”

Exams… I had been studying for them, but I was more than a little worried about Latin. I only had a “B”, and a low one at that. Henry had an “A” that he kept bragging about. I had quickly developed a… distaste for the proud one.

Mrs. Awning sighed as she saw Ali laugh nervously. “Look off of Ms. Amy’s, Ms. Page. I don’t have another copy to give you.” Ali willingly scooted her desk closer to mine, and leaned over to look at the review sheet. I could feel my face heating up at how close she was getting. Lately, I had had more of a problem concentrating around her, but I wasn’t sure just exactly why.

Class couldn’t have been over soon enough for me.

The rest of the day went easily enough, and I was able to ignore and hide any of the growing unease I felt around my friend.

Regrettably, the week flew by, and soon it was the day of the performance.

The act before ours was almost finished—a group of four seniors that were reenacting various Monty Python sketches.

Again, I nervously straightened my collar. The girls in the band were wearing matching knee-length skirts made of a shimmery, silvery material with a black silk collared button down shirt. Robert, our drummer, was wearing a white shirt coupled with a pair of black pants and some sunglasses he had pulled from somewhere. Biting my lip, I decided that we looked good, but it would remain to be seen with our music.

Ali noticed my fidgeting, and placed a comforting hand on my arm. Immediately, I felt my face heat up as it had whenever I had had contact with the hazel eyed girl lately. “Are you okay?” she whispered in the dark of backstage.

I nodded. “Yes.” My voice was four tones higher than it usually was.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassured me. “You’ve been practicing so hard. Don’t worry, nothing’s going to go wrong.”

Just then, a voice came over the microphone. “And that was Josh Tucker, Tanner Yew, Kevin Foley and Jack Brown performing various skits. Next up, we have The Unidentified, singing their original song by Amy Shiraishi—” I shot a glare at Ali, who I just knew had told the MC who had written the song—“My Star. Ali Page as vocals, Robert Coyne on drums, Shelby Adams as lead guitar, and Amy Shiraishi taking the place of Adam Moon on keyboard.” I gulped as we filed on stage.

The lights of the stage were hot as I took my place behind the keyboard, and I squinted out at the audience. Most people were clapping, but I couldn’t see a thing. I listened as Robert quietly counted us off, fingers laying delicately over the first chord and corresponding melody line. When he reached “Four” I was gone.

The introduction filled the air, silencing the audience as the first strains of the melody took flight. As always happened when I played, I lost myself to the music, pouring my whole self into the chords. My right hand wandered over the keyboard, the melody twining and interweaving within the left hand’s part, then soaring above it. After a few more beats, Ali stepped up to the microphone, giving a nod to Shelby. She started softly playing the chords along with me, leaving my left hand free to play the second melody I had written into the piece, allowing both of my hands to wander, eliciting emotions in me that I didn’t know I had.

I watched as Ali leaned into the microphone and began to sing.

“Wandering under a new moon

I was lost until I found you

My north star, my guiding light

Threatening black to beautiful night…”

She held the last low note for a moment, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. My breath caught, and I looked down at the keyboard again, mouthing along with the lyrics that I knew so well as I switched back to playing left handed chords.

“You need to know that you’re my star

Always know you light my way

You don’t know how great you are

Able to turn my night to day”

Here the drums entered with a cymbal hit, then began a one-two snare-bass beat that countered the higher tones of Ali’s beautiful soprano voice.

“Love, you put the sun to shame

Nothing will ever be the same.

God, don’t let this moment pass

Don’t let the next one be our last.”

Again, the chorus came in, and my keyboard continued the pattern set up at the first chorus. High, low, high, low, play along with Ali as she leads into the next chorus… now.

“You need to know that you’re my star

Always know you light my way

You don’t know how great you are

Able to turn my night to day”

Ali cut off the higher note as Shelby entered in with her solo. She was playing a variation of the haunting, mysterious melody of the song, and at the apex, Ali came in again with a variation of the chorus in a higher set.

“You need to know that you’re my star

Always know that you’ll have me

You don’t know how great you are

I wish that somehow you could see

That you are my bright and beautiful star

Always know you light my way

You don’t know how great you are

Able to turn my night to day”

She finished up the song softly, as I played the melody one last time. The guitar had already faded, as had the drums, and I looked up at Ali’s face again, now that the song was over. She looked like… she looked like she was about to cry…

The silence was broken by loud cheers from the audience, and the sadness in Ali’s eyes was gone, as she grabbed Shelby with one hand and me with the other and dragged us up front to take the bows. Robert followed behind us, before Ali kicked back at him and he came around to stand next to Shelby. We bowed again, and filed off stage. Shelby and Robert quickly left to go see the rest of the show, but I dragged Ali up onto the roof to find out what the heck she was so upset about.

Of course, she didn’t know that.

“What’s up, Amy?” she asked as I stepped out onto the roof. It was cold, and I wrapped my arms around myself. Maybe I could have picked a better setting…

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I turned around, facing her as she came out too. The cold didn’t seem to affect her as much. Grr.

She blinked innocently. “What do you mean?”

“Ali, you looked like you were going to cry when you stopped singing. If you want to tell me what’s wrong…” I stopped as she stepped up and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Ali?” I squeaked, and my heart kicked up a notch. Hopefully not enough for her to notice…

“You looked cold,” she said by way of explanation. “You’re shivering.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and slowly I relaxed. Not for long though, because I tensed up as soon as she asked, “Amy? Have you ever been in love?”

What had brought this on? “No…” At least, I didn’t think so.

“I wouldn’t have thought so from the way you wrote that song. It was… beautiful, and sad, and happy all at the same time. And it wouldn’t just fit with one type of love, but with anyone important to you… I was just wishing that Carter was here to see us perform.” She sighed slightly, resting her head on my shoulder. “He was my older brother, and he died a few years ago in an accident.”

“I’m sorry that I made you remember him,” I whispered, hugging her.

“No, thank you. We were close, but we had a fight right before the accident. I think—I think he knew I didn’t mean any of the things I said. He would’ve wanted me to be happy.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’ve fallen in love after all.”

“Really? What are they like?” I asked. For some reason, I could feel my stomach clenching. Why?

“They’re beautiful, talented, smart…” she whispered, letting go of me and taking a step back. “They’re so humble, though, that they won’t admit it. I’ve really fallen for them.” She shook her head, and motioned me to go inside. “The show ought to be done by now. Let’s head back, it’s getting colder.”

I nodded numbly, following her back down to backstage.

I was lying on my back in my bed, thinking over the conversation that I had had with Ali when I realized something. When she’d said she was in love with someone… I’d felt sad. Yes, I was happy for her, but I was… jealous of whoever it was.

Why?

I couldn’t want her to love me… could I?

I rolled over, staring into the darkness at my wall. Was I in love with Ali? No, I couldn’t be, she was another girl. It wasn’t right. I was just jealous that she’d fallen in love and I hadn’t! That had to be it.

That had to be it…