Crazy in Love (23 page)

The Choral Room was so quiet that you could have heard
a guitar pick drop as we all listened to the barely perceptible
crackling sound of an envelope being handed to Rusty
O’Shea. Within that envelope, we all knew, lay our
destinies. I looked around and saw a roomful of manne
quins, frozen in place, ears cocked toward the loudspeaker.

“Okay,” Rusty’s voice boomed. “We’ll start with our five honorable mentions. They’re listed here in random order. Clyde Peters and Randy White!”

Each time a name was announced, one of the faces would break into some expression other than suspended animation. Some lit up into smiles; some tried to hide disappointment.
And as each of the five spots was filled, the tension in the
room increased even more. Saul and I clasped hands,
clinging to each other like two Miss America finalists
awaiting the name of the first runner-up.

When those five songs had been given their honorable
mention and the composers had filed onto the stage to receive applause and some sort of prize in a plain unmarked
envelope, it was time for the announcement of the winners
of the third, the second, and the highly coveted first prize.

“And now, the winner of the third prize
...”

“Come on, come on,” I muttered as Rusty O’Shea went on endlessly about the twelve million record albums that went along with the distinction of walking off with third
prize.

“...
Wendy Greenberg and Jack Simmons!”

Wendy and Jack shuffled out of the Choral Room in their
matching black leather jeans, openly disappointed by
having come so close to first prize, but having nothing to
show for it except more records than Disco-Mat.

More applause, more tension. “Come on, come on.” My patience was running out, and a mood closely approximat
ing hysteria was moving in.

“The winner of second prize ... Vincent Scala.”

By that point Saul and I were as frozen as all the other
mannequins in the room. I could hardly breathe.

“And now, here is the moment we’ve all been waiting
for. As you know, the song that wins first prize in this year’s
WROX Songwriting Contest will be recorded by one of the
top groups in today’s recording industry. And that lucky
person is
...”

I inhaled sharply and dug my fingernails into my thighs.

“Or rather, the winners are .  . .”

I closed my eyes tight and clenched my jaw.

“Elizabeth Humbard and Maria Diaz, for their song, ‘I
Loved You in the Morning.’ Congratulations, Elizabeth and
Maria!”

It took a few seconds for what had just happened to
register. I continued sitting there—eyes closed, jaw
clenched, breath held, fingernails clawing at my legs—even
as the applause for Elizabeth and Maria died down. I heard
people starting to move around me as coats and jackets were
retrieved from comers, as instruments were tucked back
into their cases, as the other contestants began the painful
process of patching up their battered egos.

I opened up my eyes and blinked a few times until they
readjusted to the glaring fluorescent lights. I saw Saul
looking down at me, his expression haggard and sad.

“We lost, didn’t we?” I could barely get the words out.

He nodded and helped me out of my chair.

“We didn’t even get an honorable mention.” This time
my voice was hoarse with disbelief. I remained stunned as I slid my coat on, picked up my guitar, and followed Saul out
of the Choral Room. “How could this have happened?” I
was whimpering. “I was so certain we’d win!”

“There are never any guarantees in life, Sallie,” Saul
said consolingly. “All there are are chances to keep on
trying.”

“But our song was terrific.”

“So were a lot of the others.” He sighed deeply and said,
“I guess ours just wasn’t the kind of thing they were
looking for.”

The tone of Saul’s voice was flat with defeat, and so I
decided to let it drop. I could see that he was in no condition
to be playing straight man to my self-centered whining.

“Oh, well,” I said, putting up a brave front. “You win
some, you lose some. Or so they say. By the way, I’m
supposed to meet Nick after he gets done here. Why don’t
you join us? We can all go out for ice cream or something.”

“Sure.” Saul shrugged. “Why not?”

I slung my arm around him, and the two of us slunk down the corridor toward the door. It had been a long evening, but I couldn’t help feeling that the rest of the night was going to
be even more difficult to get through.

“I told Nick I’d meet him at that coffee shop across the
street,” I told Saul as the two of us walked down the hall on our way out of the school building. I was trying to sound as
cheerful as I could, trying to keep a morose mood from
taking us over and pulling us both down into the depths of despair. “He should be through with work in about fifteen
minutes. I’ll tell you, I could use a glass of ice cold soda or something. I’m so thirsty. Between the hot lights while we
were onstage and all the waiting around before and
after
...”

I was so busy rambling on and on, petrified by the
thought of a lull in the conversation, that it wasn’t until I
was hallway across the street that I noticed I was alone,
talking to myself like one of the many eccentrics that roam
the streets of my fair city.

“Saul,” I called, turning around. “Saul, where did
you—?”

As I looked back at the door of the school, I could see his
silhouette in the shadows as he leaned against a wall. He
was talking to someone else, someone who appeared to
have been waiting outside. I peered at that figure, then recognized the familiar outline, the fabric of the jacket I’d seen a million times before.

“Rachel!” I screeched. “Is that really you?”

I ran back to them, my guitar banging against the side of my knees. “Did you hear us sing? Were you there, in the audience?”

“Yes, I was there,” she answered softly, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry you guys didn’t win. But, honestly, you were terrific. Both of you.”

“I can’t believe you were actually there,” I went on, breathless from running and from being in mild shock. “I mean, I’m thrilled, but I still can’t believe it. How come you changed your mind?”

Rachel glanced at Saul before answering my question. “Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I decided that there are some things in life that are just too good to miss out on, no matter what.”

“Wow! I’m flattered!”

Honestly, sometimes I am so dense that I cannot believe it. Even though I was listening to every word Rachel was saying, I completely missed the point. I mean, I understood what she was saying about coming to our performance, but the double meaning of her statement went by me by such a long shot that I am embarrassed to admit it.

Saul, however, was so tuned in to Rachel that he knew exactly what was going on. He started to grin, and he placed his hands on her shoulders lightly.

“I’m glad to hear that you feel that way,” he said, looking positively radiant. “I don’t know what changed your mind, but whatever it was, I sure am glad!”

It was at that point that old banana-brain here finally caught on.

“Oh,
I
understand!” I cried all of a sudden, slapping my
forehead in an overly dramatic gesture. “You mean you’ve
decided to reconsider your decision about seeing Saul!”

“Consider me already reconsidered.” Rachel smiled. “I’m afraid that Saul is stuck with me, at least for now. Until he gets sick of me, or he starts driving me crazy with
his Al Pacino imitation.”

“That’s great!” I put my guitar down on the sidewalk and
hugged them both. “I’m so happy for both of you!” For
those few minutes, I stopped feeling like someone who had
just lost a very important contest, and instead felt as if I’d just won the Irish Sweepstakes. I was on top of the world.
“How come you finally saw the light, Rach?”

She shrugged, and looking kind of embarrassed, she said,
“I think it was partly your influence, Sallie.”

“Me!
What did I do?” I couldn’t help feeling pleased.

“All your arguments finally got to me. You were right:
Saul is simply too good to pass up.” She kissed him on the cheek. “And I guess it just took a while for that fact to dawn
on me.”

“What about your parents?”

“It’s not my parents’ decision, it’s mine. And they’ll have
to come to accept it, as well as the fact that from now on,
I’ll be making most of my own decisions. After all, in less than a year, I’ll be going off to college, and I’ll have to start
fending for myself. Besides,” she went on, pushing a strand
of hair out of her eyes, “I’m the one who has to live with
Rachel Glass, not them or anyone else.

“Of course, there are no guarantees. I don’t know what
will happen with our relationship, Saul. Neither of us can deny the fact that our backgrounds are totally different. But if we concentrate on our similarities instead of our differences, that should improve our odds right there. I can’t say that I’ve completely resolved everything in my own mind, but I do think the important thing is that I’m going to try as
hard as I can to make this work.”

“I’m so glad.” Saul grinned. “And you’re right. Things
might not work out with us, and for totally unexpected
reasons. But at least we’ll always know we gave it our
best shot.”

“And you’ll always know that if things don’t work out,”
I interjected, “it was because of your own personalities and differences, not because of some preconceived notions
about each other.”

“Sallie, is that you?” I turned to peer into the school
corridor as I heard Nick’s voice.

“Yes, it’s me.” I waved and waited for him to reach our
little group. He gave me a little kiss when he joined us in the
doorway.

“Sallie, Saul, you guys were terrific. Really! I can’t believe you didn’t win. I thought your song was the best one. Honestly.”

“You have to admit that there was some pretty stiff competition up there tonight,” Saul protested. “I can’t say I was listening all that carefully, or all that objectively, either, but it sounded as if there were some pretty cool tunes that
we were up against.”

“Well, I still think you both should be proud. This is just
the beginning for the Spooner-Rodriguez songwriting
team.”

“It is?” I asked dully, abruptly brought back to reality
with a jolt.

“Sure,” Nick insisted. “There will be lots of other
opportunities.”

“Name one.” I’d quickly relapsed into my cranky
mood. I felt it was my prerogative as a temperamental artist.

“How about sending tapes of your songs to the record
companies here in the city? Or singing them on Audition
Night at some of the clubs down in the Village? Or even
entering the contest that Alpha-Beta Records always holds
in January?”

“What contest? I never heard of any Alpha-Beta
contest.”

“Sure, every year. It always gets a big write-up in
Billboard.”

“Billboard?
What’s that?” Rachel asked.

“It’s the trade magazine for the recording industry,” I
replied. “Who can enter it?”

“Anyone. It’s for amateurs. Look, I can tell you all the
details later on. The important thing is that there are
opportunities all over the place. All you have to do is be
willing to keep on trying. That’s the key to this whole
thing.”

Rachel and Saul glanced at each other and smiled.

“That sounds vaguely familiar,” I commented. Nick just
looked blank. “Never mind, it’s just an inside joke. Oh, by the way, I don’t believe you two have ever been formally
introduced. Nick, this is my best friend, Rachel.”

“Not
the
Rachel?” His surprise was unmasked as his
eyes traveled back and forth between Rachel and Saul a few
times. “The Rachel the song was dedicated to?”

“And
written for.” I laughed. “One and the same.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you!” Nick and Rachel shook
hands. “I guess there’s been a lot going on around here lately!”

“Rach, Nick and I are going out to celebrate our magnificent
performance tonight. Why don’t you and Saul join us?”

“Sure, we’d love to,” they both answered simultaneous
ly, and all four of us broke into hysterical laughter, as if it
were the funniest thing we had ever heard in our lives.

“I know a great ice cream parlor, and it’s not too far
away,” Nick suggested. “It’s called Peppermint Park.”

“Oh, no!” I groaned. “My old hangout!”

“Bad choice, huh?” Poor Nick looked very confused.
Between this and my reaction when he told me he was a chemistry nut, I was beginning to worry about giving the
boy an inferiority complex.