Big Time (7 page)

“It's too bad everyone can't sight-read,” she says. “We'd be able to get through so much more during a rehearsal.”

“Yeah, too bad, hey?” says Tyler.

Bernice doesn't pick up on his sarcasm. “It's not your fault, guys,” she says. “It's just that you don't have a background in music like the rest of us.”

I'm getting a little bit sick of hearing Bernice talk about her background.

“We have a couple of things to consider,” says Ms. Kogawa. “We should really start thinking about developing a performance piece. We're not there yet, but I think we will be soon, if we all work hard. It would be great to kick off our year with something of our own ready to go.

We should start thinking about where we might want to have our debut performance too.”

“What kind of song are we going to do?” asks Olive.

“Ultimately that will be up to you guys,” she says. “But I think it would be fun to do a mashup, where we take two songs and bring them together, so start thinking of some possibilities to discuss next week, and we'll work from there.”

“How do you know what songs will sound good together?” asks Macy.

“A lot of it is instinct,” says Ms. Kogawa. “Some songs just sound great together—they have similar tempos and structure. Mood is important too. I think it would be really neat if we could pick songs with different musical styles, but that's not totally necessary as long as they sound good. We should probably pick something that's got good energy too, since we'll hopefully be doing it for an audience.”

“What kind of audience?” I ask.

“I'm not sure yet.” She smiles at us. “I'll figure something out. I know I don't want to keep these beautiful voices all to myself. Speaking of beautiful voices, I need everyone to take one last shot at thinking of someone who can possibly step in as a bass for us. It would be great to have the low register covered. Come on, guys, one of you must know somebody who fits the bill.”

I'm looking around at the blank faces in the room when I realize I do know somebody. The only problem is, I don't know how to find him.

Meg is only too eager to help me figure out how to contact Keith.

“You didn't even get his last name?” she asks.

“No,” I tell her. “Except for the audition and a couple of minutes at the mall, I've barely even talked to the guy.”

We're in my room. Meg is on my laptop, trying to find him online. She does a quick Facebook search and comes up with a bunch of Keiths who go to local high schools. I stand behind her and peer over her shoulder as she scrolls through the list, but I don't recognize any of them.

“This is probably pointless,” I say, sitting back down on my bed. “I tried to find him on Facebook too. He's either not on it or he has pretty tight privacy settings.”

“Don't be so quick to give up,” she says. “We're just getting started. Haven't you seen
CSI
? We just have to dig a little bit deeper.”

“I don't even know what to say if we find him,” I say.

“I think you're going to have to explain this to me one more time,” she says. “Why exactly are you looking for this guy?”

“The choral group needs a bass,” I say. “A deep male voice.”

“He'll probably be all over that,” she says. “Guys love when girls ask them to join nerdy music clubs.”

“Maybe you're right,” I say. “Maybe he'll think it's stupid.”

“Relax,” she says. “I'm just joking. Kind of. It's a reason to get in touch with a cute guy, at least.”

She closes her eyes and chews on her lip, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then she starts typing, quickly throwing different word combinations into the search box.

“Is this him?” she asks after a few seconds. I come back over and look at the screen. Sure enough, it's Keith's face in a YouTube window.

“That's him!” I say.

“He has his own channel,” she says, clicking through. Not only does he have his own channel, but he's posted dozens of videos and has a ton of followers. Meg plays one video and we watch as Keith says hey to his audience, then picks up his guitar and begins to play and sing. It's an old blues tune and it sounds really great. His guitar playing is excellent, and his voice is deep and smooth. I know he could easily sing the bass parts for choral. When the song ends, we start another one, then another. He plays lots of blues and folk music, some of his own stuff and even a few newer songs that he's put his own twist on.

“He's good, hey?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says. “Now we just have to leave him a comment and tell him to get in touch with you.”

“Do you think that's a good idea? Maybe he'll be embarrassed that I found him this way.”

“He has his own online fan base, Gerri. Something tells me he isn't a shy daisy.” She scrolls down to the comments section of his most recent video and is about to type something, but I stop her.

“Let me do it,” I say. She gets up and I sit at my desk to write a quick message.

Hey, Keith. This is Gerri from the Big Time auditions. I really like your videos, they're great. I was wondering if you could get in touch with me, I have a question to ask you. About music.

“What's with ‘about music'?” asks Meg.

“I don't want him to think I'm asking him out or something,” I say.

“Yeah, 'cause that would be awful, right? You should take that out. Leave him guessing a bit.”

I take that part out, leave an email address and post the comment. To my surprise, he responds within ten minutes.

Hey, Gerri, great to hear from you! Do you want to meet for coffee sometime?

“That sounds promising,” says Meg.

“I told you, it's not like that. We need a bass for choral, that's all.”

“Suit yourself,” she says, “but I wouldn't be so quick to assume the only thing he's interested in is your voice.”

Chapter Ten

Keith and I meet for coffee after school the next day, at a place downtown called Human Bean. I've never been there before. It's really cool. There's colorful oversized artwork hanging on the exposed brick walls, funky old furniture and a raised stage at the back.

I get there first and order a chai latte, then grab a table in the corner and try to figure out how to bring up choral club with Keith. I haven't mentioned anything to Ms. Kogawa about the possibility of him joining us, because I honestly have no idea what he'll think of it. In the meantime, I need to figure out how to explain it to him.

I don't have much time to think about it, because he shows up shortly after my drink arrives. He's got his guitar slung across his back, and he orders a coffee before scanning the café. I catch his eye, and he waves and heads to the table.

“Hey, Gerri!” he says, carefully placing his coffee on the table before leaning the guitar in the corner.

“You take your guitar everywhere, don't you?” I ask.

“Pretty much,” he says. “I do some busking, and I'm in a couple of groups with some people from school. Nothing serious, but we try to practice at school during lunch hour and stuff. Lately I've been trying to hit up open mics with some of those guys.”

“Wow,” I say. “You're busy.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “Music's everything. I try to play as much as I can.”

I turn to glance at the stage in the corner of the coffee shop. “Is this one of the places where you do open mic?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Human Bean is pretty cool, hey? The owners are really great. They love to give local musicians a place to play.”

“That's great,” I say. I'm beginning to think that Keith's scene is a lot cooler than anything I have to offer. A choral group at another school is probably the last thing he's interested in.

“So what did you want to ask me?” he says.

“Oh, it seems kind of stupid now,” I say.

“Try me,” he says.

“I'm in a choral club, at my school,” I say.

“Cool,” he says. “You mean like multiple harmonies, a cappella stuff?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I'm a soprano. It's kind of a new thing for me. Anyway, we need a guy who can sing bass, and I know you have a deep voice and all, and I was watching your videos and…”

“I'd love to, if I have time,” he says. “That sounds awesome.”

“What?” I say. “I haven't even asked you anything yet.”

“You're wondering if I'll try out for your choral group, right? I think it sounds cool.”

“Are you serious?” I ask him.

“Totally,” he says. “I told you, I love music. Any chance I have to try something new, bring it on. I don't have a lot of experience singing with other people, and this sounds like it would be a great way to learn.”

I'm so surprised he's up for it that I don't really know what to say. “We practice on Sundays,” I say. “We don't even have any performances lined up or anything. Right now we're just doing show tunes and stuff. You might not like it.”

He laughs. “Are you trying to convince me not to do it? At least let me give it a shot before you talk me out of it.”

“Sorry,” I say. “I'm just surprised that you agreed to do it.”

“You know,” he says, “the group could do a performance here sometime. Open mic means open to anyone who wants to get up and do a song or two.”

“Really?” I say. “Don't you think that kind of thing might not, I don't know, fit in?”

“You'd be surprised,” he says. “Pretty much any kind of musical act you can imagine plays here for open mic. On one of the nights I played with my friends, there was an old-time banjo player and later an opera singer did an aria. The variety is what makes it fun.”

I've never imagined that singing in choral could lead to performances in places like this. I'd kind of expected we'd be more likely to sing at school assemblies and ribbon-cutting ceremonies.

“You should mention that to Ms. Kogawa,” I tell him. “She's the choir director.”

“So what made you join choral?” he asks.

“I wasn't planning on it,” I tell him. “I was pretty bummed out when I got rejected by
Big Time
, and I was thinking that I'd never try out again, and then Ms. Kogawa asked if I wanted to join. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could actually learn something and be better prepared for my audition next year.”

“So you think you'll go back and try out again?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I've wanted to be on
Big Time
for years. If I can be better prepared next time, why not? Won't you? Try out again, I mean.”

“I doubt it,” he says. “I wasn't doing it for the show. Not really. I don't really care about
Big Time
. I just like to try out any new opportunity to play and perform.” He shrugs. “It was just one more place to sing.”

I tell Ms. Kogawa about Keith on Tuesday when Tyler and I are in her class for extra help.

“That's wonderful, Gerri!” she says. “I've been a bit worried that we'd have to go the whole year without a bass. You say this guy is musical?”

“Yeah, he plays a few instruments, and he writes his own stuff too. He's going to come to rehearsal on Sunday.”

“That's just great,” she says. “Speaking of writing, have either of you had a chance to think about our mashup?”

“I haven't had time,” says Tyler. “Between school, chorus and track, I'm too busy as it is. Besides, I'm sure the musical wonder will figure something out.”

I smile.
Musical wonder—that's
good.

“Who is the musical wonder?” asks Ms. Kogawa.

“Come on,” says Tyler. “Bernice. She's way better than us.”

“I don't think so at all,” she says. “Bernice is very talented, but so are both of you. So is everyone.”

Tyler just shrugs. “I guess so.”