It’s still not right! William, what are you doing over there?” Mayor Gunderson bellowed at Mr. Acevedo as the screech of microphone feedback made us all wince.
Mr. Acevedo mumbled something under his breath as he fiddled around with switches and knobs for the millionth time. The dress rehearsal progressed in starts and stops as tech issue after tech issue sprang up, reducing the usually cool Mr. Acevedo, who had no trouble presiding over a screaming match at the chamber of commerce, to a foulmouthed, sweaty mess.
Mercury must’ve been in retrograde, considering the way everything was going wrong. The computer that operated the soundboard wasn’t working, and Mr. Acevedo had to use a backup laptop while Mayor Gunderson yelled at his assistant to find a repairperson ASAP. One of the contestants couldn’t find her special fire batons for her routine and accused another girl of stealing them. It was only Valerie’s quick intervention that stopped it from turning ugly. And to top it all off, Beth swept into the dress rehearsal twenty minutes late, trailed by Jae, who was carrying several shopping bags full of supplies for the rehearsal. No apologies for being late, no explanation to why Jae was there, just a quick head nod to acknowledge us, eyes shaded behind her giant sunglasses.
I averted my eyes from the two of them and focused on refilling my water bottle with the hydrating iced tea blend Elena had concocted—at three o’clock, the worst of the heat had passed, but the humidity clung to me and I needed to stay hydrated if I was going to make it through the rest of this cursed rehearsal.
I sensed his presence before I actually saw him—he didn’t wear cologne, but the lemon-lavender scent I associated with him enveloped me, and I took a deep breath before turning around to face him. He held out a Brew-ha #1 in a frosty to-go cup, and I took it from him, his sweetness taking all the fight out of me. No matter what happened, he was my friend. I needed to remember that and curb this ugly jealous streak. A bit of pettiness was fine here and there, but not to the one guy who didn’t deserve it.
“Thanks, Jae. How did you know I was in desperate need of caffeine?”
He grinned at me. “You kind of always need caffeine. And I figured you’d be in a bad mood since you’d have to be out in this heat. I would’ve brought you some halo-halo or ice candy, but it would’ve melted before I got here.”
He looked me over, and I self-consciously tugged at the hem of my dress, which had been clinging to my sweat. One good thing about wearing dark colors in summertime, you couldn’t see my gross sweat marks. “Sorry for not saying anything earlier, but I really like your new hairstyle. It suits you.”
What did it say about me that that simple compliment made all my aunties’ disparaging remarks seem like nothing? “Thanks. The aunties hate it, of course. They preferred my long, straight hair.”
Before he could respond, Joy ran up to us, an adorable pink ukulele tucked under her arm. “Hi, Ate Lila! Dr. Jae! How are you?”
Jae reached out for a high five, which she returned. “Hey, I didn’t know you played the ukulele! We should jam together sometime.”
Joy’s eyes lit up. “You play the ukulele, too?”
“Yeah, I taught myself in college. My friend was part of the ukulele club and got me to join since he knew I played the guitar. It was a lot of fun, but I haven’t played in a while.”
“I taught myself, too! I really wanted to learn piano when I was younger, but we couldn’t afford it. So my sister got me this ukulele for my birthday freshman year. Said it reminded her of me.” Joy cradled her ukulele, a soft smile on her face as she looked at her beloved instrument.
I was about to ask what song she was playing for her talent portion when Mr. Acevedo beat me to the punch.
“OK, that’s great! I think we figured out all the audio stuff. Joy, can you play a quick piece one last time to be sure? And make sure to sing, not just play the instrument. I want to make sure the mic picks up your voice,” Mr. Acevedo called out, as he messed around with the soundboard for the stage.
Joy obeyed, stepping up to the microphone stand and strumming her ukulele. She sang the first verse of “Over the Rainbow” in a clear, sweet voice that somehow managed to be equal parts hopeful and nostalgic. Tears sprang to my eyes and I had to fake a sneeze so I could dig a tissue out of my purse to dab at my face. Jae put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, the light pressure more comforting than I expected. I wasn’t even sure why I needed comforting.
The click of a camera made both of us jump, and I whirled around to catch Natalie Philipps and Dave, the Shady Palms News photographer, grinning at us.