Emmy's Song

Prologue

He's stretched out on the freshly lain carpet, smiling at me. I stare at him while I rock, watching the beads of sweat drip down the side of his face. His eyes are closed, but he is smiling.

Would you like me to tell you a story? I ask.

Only if it's a good one, he replies, a hint of humor in his voice. He already knows the one I am going to tell.

Of course it's a good one. I need to practice telling it anyway.

I'm listening. He opens his eyes and I am overcome with the emotion of the moment.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Emmy and a boy named Cale.

Chapter 1

The week before Thanksgiving break was always hectic at The Canson Academy for the Performing Arts. Winter Concerts for the drama, choral, and dance programs were held the second week of December. Everyone was busy with last minute rehearsals. I was no exception. I stayed late almost every night. I had a lot riding on this one. The recruiter from Berklee College of Music was attending and that was going to be my ticket out of this town. Sure, I loved my friends and my family, but I had bigger plans, I assure you.

Clifton Hills was the fabulous town we moved to in Tennessee. Hidden away just outside of Chattanooga, it had its own schools and churches, but that was about it. Your typical small-town nightmare for this big-city girl. Though I missed Miami, my best friends, Sarah Watts and Christopher Jacobs, made life in CH bearable. They had taken me under their wing when I transferred here last year. It all happened rather fast really. Abuela died. A few months later, my dad took a job in Chattanooga and we were moving. We left behind our whole family in Miami and that was a lot of people. My dad is a full-blooded Hispanic so our family has always been pretty close. Facing the loss of them and then coming to the academy in the middle of my junior year could have been disastrous. Sarah and Chris had been there for me from the beginning.

When I pulled into the parking lot the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Sarah was there, waiting for me. She was leaning against her red Mustang convertible, her pride and joy. It was the envy of half the school. The Mustang was an early graduation present and she had affectionately named it Bob. Sarah was obviously a fun girl to be around. I gave her the peace sign as I pulled into the spot next to her.

Hey! she said as I was getting out of my Honda Civic. Did you hear about all the drama?

What now? Anything good? Sarah was my link to Hollywood. She was up-to-date on all the latest celeb gossip. I was older than Sarah, I turned eighteen the first week of our senior year, and sometimes it really showed.

Um, no. Although you should have seen this article on the internet today, she said thoughtfully. I had to laugh at the seriousness on her face. This is much better. Cale Cruz is coming back!

To the uninformed person, this news would warrant no more than a nod, and perhaps a thoughtful hmm. But to everyone at the academy, this was the news of the century. Cale Cruz had grown up in Clifton Hills. During his freshman year at the academy, his sister died in a car accident and his whole family left town in the dead of night. It was a huge scandal. And supposedly, he was very, very, very--yes, three very's--good-looking. At least, that's what Sarah claimed. I had never seen him. When? I asked with as much shock and awe as I could manage for Sarah's sake.

Today! she screamed.

What? Now I really was shocked. How could we not have known about this sooner?

I don't know, but the whole school is buzzing about it. Apparently, the faculty has known for some time. It was supposed to be kept hush-hush, and, um, there's one more thing, Emmy. She gave me a sideways glace while we walked toward the back entrance to the school. He will be in Chamber Choral Advanced with us. He may even take over the closing act at the Winter Concert.

I stopped dead in my tracks. Great! So crazy boy was coming back. Good for him. I had worked too hard to have my spot taken by someone who was just coming back. Over my dead body! I glared at Sarah and she started to backtrack.

Well, obviously I don't know for sure, Emmy. I mean, you're right--he just got back. But I do know he was the best before he left. He would have probably already had Berklee down here listening to him. I simply wanted to tell you before you walked in there and were taken by surprise.

Well, thank you for your concern, but I'm sure it will be fine. I seriously doubt Mr. Scott would do that to me. I wasn't mad at Sarah, but I couldn't help taking it out on her. We've been working really hard to make sure it was perfect and besides, he promised!

Okay, Emmy. Sarah could tell I was on the verge of hysterics. I'm sure you're right. I only wanted to tell you the news. That's all.

I gave her a smile and put my arm through hers. Well, thank you very much. And if you could now help me get to class before I pass out, I would greatly appreciate it!

You are so dramatic! Sarah laughed. You really should be in drama instead of chorus!

My first two periods, algebra and humanities passed by in a blur. I really wasn't in the mood for fractions or seventeenth century artists, which were the fascinating subjects we were covering. Lucky for me, my best guy friend, Christopher Jacobs, was in both classes and he would take exceptional notes, as always. When Mr. Ross was close to the end of trying to explain the difference between real and rational numbers, I guess Chris couldn't take it anymore and he practically screamed my name, in a loud whisper, from two rows behind me.

Emmy! Emmy!

I turned to look at him and he was leaning over to scoot me a note on the floor. I rolled my eyes and managed to catch the paper with my foot. I opened it up and smiled as I read, Emellia Catarina Alejandra Ortega! Where are you because you sure aren't here! What's going on? If you don't tell me, I'm not going to let you copy my notes!

I laughed out loud, realizing that he knew me well enough to know what I was thinking about his notes. I scribbled back on the paper. Two words. Cale Cruz. I watched his face while he read the note. When he looked up at me, he had gone pale, white as a ghost. He mouthed that we would talk after class.

I impatiently waited for the bell to ring, now very anxious to hear what Chris had to say. Turning to look out the window, I caught a glimpse of Chris's reflection. It was easy to see why girls tripped over themselves to get a better look at him. He was not as pale as a ghost, like all the other kids from here. He had cream-colored skin and brown hair, a lot like mine really. His sharp, handsome features were a complement to his soft eyes. They were bright green and usually full of laughter at something he, Sarah or I had done. But this time, reflected in the window, they looked sad or perhaps worried. I couldn't tell which. The ringing of the bell brought me back to reality and I was out of my seat in a flash, ready to hear whatever it was he was going to say. Are you feeling okay?

What do you know about Cale Cruz? he asked in an uneven tone.

No more than anyone else. Sarah said he was coming back today. She also said he has an exceptional voice and may take over the closing act at the Winter Concert. Chris looked down at me from his six-feet-four-inch frame with an amused look on his face.

Emmy, I'm sure that will be the last thing on his mind.

Let's hope so, I said. Although that was the end of the Cale Cruz conversation, the look in Chris's eyes remained.

I felt sick while walking to the chorus room. Should I say something to Mr. Scott? Should I march in there and tell him I won't have some Looney Toon taking my spot? I decided against it and took my seat in the soprano section next to Sarah. Is he here? I whispered.

I haven't seen him yet. Come to think of it, I haven't heard anything about him since this morning. I don't know if he made it to school today.

The remainder of class was uneventful and the exceptional Cale Cruz never showed. Good, I thought. Maybe he had forgotten how to sing at the crazy house and failed his audition to get into advanced chorus. Or even better, they wouldn't let him back in school at all.

That afternoon, as I stood in my usual spot waiting for Chris to get out of study hall, my eyes kept focusing on the posters lining the walls. They were advertisements for the Winter Formal. The dance was to immediately follow the Winter Concert and would be in the auditorium next to the concert hall. No one had asked me to go yet and that was fine with me. In addition to the fact that I didn't like any of the boys at this school, I had more important things to worry about. I was focused on my solo for the concert and landing a scholarship to Berklee.

When the bell rang and Chris came out of class, he still had the same look in his eyes. I came to the conclusion he must be tired today. After all, we had all been rehearsing like crazy. He was a dance major so his rehearsing was more strenuous than mine.

Hey, he said in the same uneven tone. I just had the worst dream.

I laughed. You were so asleep in study hall that you had a dream? Ms. Jess must have loved that! Although I doubted Ms. Jess would mind if he did. She, like most of the female teachers at Canson, loved Chris. He gave me a wink.

Anyway, I had a dream that you left school. We were looking for you all over and no one could find you.

Well, that's a silly dream! I'm right here. See? I did a little spin for him. We both laughed as we rounded the corner, heading to the student parking lot. Sarah was waiting for us. She looked like she was about to burst and I knew she must have something good to tell us.

He'll be here tomorrow, she said triumphantly.

And how do you know that, Nancy Drew? Chris leaned on her and used her head as an armrest.

Because I saw him! she exclaimed while shoving Chris in the side to get out from under his arm.

We both looked at her in disbelief.

Where was he? Why didn't anyone else see him? I asked.

He was in the office with his aunt. I guess his parents didn't come back with him. I almost walked into a wall I was staring so hard. But it was definitely him!

I shook my head. I have to go to rehearsal. You guys try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone!

They hopped in Sarah's Mustang and were driving away before I had time to turn around.

The parking lot had emptied quickly, only a few cars were left. As I started walking toward the chorus room, I froze in my tracks. Standing alone by the backdoor to the school was the most beautiful boy. His dark hair was a little long over his smooth features and his skin glistened in the afternoon sun. He was very tan, not at all like most of the boys from here. Though his features were striking, his eyes were utterly mesmerizing and I couldn't seem to look away. From where I stood, I could see how blue they were, like nothing I had ever seen. Well, in cartoons maybe, but not in real life. They were crystal blue like the ocean, and alive with amusement. A loud car horn made me snap out of it. I spun around so quickly I almost lost my balance. It was then I realized I was standing in the middle of the road.

Sorry! I called to the girl behind the wheel. When I turned back, the boy was gone. Yes, I was losing it. I heard voices in my head, well, one voice and now I was seeing random breathtakingly beautiful boys. Cuckoo!

At practice, my mind was not really there. I sang the words to one of my favorite songs from my favorite musical, Les Miserables. The song was called Bring Him Home. It was originally performed by the lead male, so Mr. Scott and I had written a special arrangement for my soprano voice. I was going to close the show and hopefully in the process, impress the recruiters from Berklee enough to warrant a scholarship offer.

Beautiful, Mr. Scott beamed. I'm very proud of you, Emmy. I knew from the moment I heard the tape your dad sent me, you would be special.

I couldn't help but blush. I mean, I was okay, but not the star he pegged me for. I simply wanted to get a scholarship to Berklee and major in Music Therapy. But only time would tell.

As I drove home, I turned on my iPod to finish listening to the play list I created the night before. The memory of him made me blush and I had to shake my head to concentrate on the road. Get it together, I said to my reflection in the rearview mirror. It was just a dream. I almost slapped myself, until I remembered I didn't like pain. Ever since we moved to this town, my dreams had been completely out of control. Abuela was usually there, telling me to go to him. Him who? I had no idea, but he was there nearly every night and that left me feeling empty and alone when I woke up.

He would hold me close to him, never allowing me to see his face. He would call my name and stroke my hair. Sometimes my dreams were fuzzy, but not the ones of him. I could hear him in my head right at this moment as clear as a bell. His voice was soft with a slight accent, Latin I was pretty sure, and his laugh was