Sold Out (10 page)

“Who?” asked Spencer with raised brows. “Who
do you have those thoughts about?”

“I can’t say.” I made a smirky face at him. “I’m only telling you this so that you’ll feel more comfortable with us—we’re not goody-goodies. We’re no different from you—”

“Except for Jesus,” added Laura.

“And He accepts us just as we are,” added Allie. “And He’s the one who helps us to change.”

Marissa sighed. “Well, I feel a little better. I thought maybe we all had to be perfect to get into the club.”

Laura laughed. “Yeah, I used to believe that too. But if everyone had to be perfect, who would actually qualify?” Then she told everyone about her plan to have some sort of Bible study or sharing time starting next fall. She asked if they would come.

Spencer groaned. “You gotta be kidding. We used to do that back in grade school. We went to this special release time where we had to listen to all these stupid stories and play these dumb games. It was so lame. You’re not going to do something like that, are you?”

“Well, if it was so bad, why’d you go?” asked Allie.

“Just to get out of class and have snacks.” Allie smacked her lips. “Mmm, what kind of snacks?”

We had to laugh.

“Hey, we could have snacks too,” offered Laura.

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah? It’d take more than some stupid cookies to get me to come.”

I’m sure if we offered a little free grass, he’d be the first there and the last one to leave. But maybe God will help us think of something. It’s a ways off anyway. But it’s weird; with just a week left of school, things are starting to really happen. And I guess I feel a little sad to see it all end.

Allie and I were just coming out of youth group today when we were practically tackled by Willy. “Did you hear the news?” he asked as he grabbed us both by the arm. His blue eyes literally flamed with excitement and a wide smile was splayed across his craggy face. Now to fully appreciate this, you’d have to understand how Willy looks sort of ridiculous when he smiles real big since the tooth next to his front tooth is gold, and his bushy mustache is usually trimmed slightly crooked. And come to think of it, he doesn’t usually grin like that either. Usually he’s pretty cool and laid back—a real mellow seventies kind of dude.

“Huh?” Allie looked slightly stunned as she stared up at his strange expression.

“What’s up, Willy?” I asked. “You look like you just got a personal message from God or else won the lottery or something.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Not me personally. But maybe you guys did.”

“What?” I studied his odd expression and actually wondered if he could possibly be having
some kind of weird flashback trip (from his wild drug days back before he found God).

“What are you talking about?” demanded Allie.

“Well, come in here.” He pulled us into Pastor Tony’s office then closed the door behind us. “Okay, sit down, both of you, and take a deep breath.”

Without questioning him, we obeyed.

“Now listen.” He slowly sat down in Pastor Tony’s big leather chair then leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. Knowing Pastor Tony, I figured this was probably okay. “You see,” he began slowly, as if planning his words. “I have this old friend from the music business. Well, he’s retired now, but he has a younger friend who’s still in the recording industry—and his name is Eric Green. He’s a Christian and is pretty high up in Omega—a Christian recording company. Anyway, I sent him your demo CD a while back and…” Willy started tapping his fingers together and grinning just like the Cheshire cat.

“Cool,” said Allie. “Did he like it?”

“Better than that.” He kept tapping his fingers together, only faster now, but his eyes were on fire.

“What?” I demanded with a seriously pounding heart. I’m sure my blood pressure was getting high as well. “What in the world are you trying to tell us, Willy?”

“Well…” He actually snickered now, as if he almost couldn’t contain himself any longer. “You have no idea how hard this has been for me. Trying not to spill the beans about this whole thing, but Eric called me last weekend and told me he really liked the demo and that he wanted to see and hear you girls in person. So I told him about the memorial concert, and—”

“A record producer actually came to our concert?” I was standing now, leaning forward and peering at Willy.

He nodded. “And man, was he ever impressed.”

“You’re kidding?!?” Allie stood up too. “A real, honest-to-goodness, legitimate record company?”

He nodded again.

“What does this mean?” I asked, and I could hear the tremor of excitement in my voice. This is just way too good to be true.

Now honestly, about now it looked as if Willy’s face was about to explode with all this previously contained delight. “Well, ladies, I think it means he’s going to offer Redemption a recording contract.”

Allie and I both screamed. (We were later relieved to see that the door was firmly closed since the morning service had already started.) Well, we both jumped up and down and hugged each other and screamed again and hugged Willy and thanked him over and over.

Then finally after we settled down, I begged him to tell us the whole story again—this time with all the details. Then we took some time to call Allie’s mom, who hadn’t left for work yet, and my parents, who hadn’t gone to their church today. (They only go about once a month or so these days.) I think Allie’s mom didn’t quite believe her, but Allie said she sounded pretty happy just the same. On the other hand, my mom didn’t seem to think it was such a big deal, or else she wasn’t taking me seriously. I’ll just say it felt a little anticlimactic.

“Have they actually offered you girls a real contract?” she asked. The skepticism in her voice was unmistakable.

“No, but Willy thinks there’s a pretty good chance they will.”

“But are they a reliable company, Chloe? Or are they expecting you girls to invest your own money? I’ve heard about those companies that tell you you’re going to hit the big times, but then they make you pay your own way. They had an episode on a news show about it. It’s a real scam. And you’ve already nearly depleted your savings on your little band.”

The way she said “little band” was the final blow, but I determined not to let her lack of enthusiasm bring me down. “Oh, I’ll explain the details later this afternoon, Mom. Just tell Dad
the good news and I’ll see you.” Parents!

Fortunately, Willy’s enthusiasm helped make up for my mom’s lack of it. And it wasn’t Pastor Tony’s fault that Allie and I could barely sit still in church. As soon as the service ended, we grabbed Willy and begged him to drive us over to where Laura’s church was just getting out. Actually, I think he wanted to do it. Then you should’ve heard the three of us girls in Laura’s church parking lot. I’m sure half the folks in town heard us squealing, including everyone from her church. But it was pretty cool, and when they found out, they all gave us a great big cheer right in the parking lot.

Finally, the crowd began dispersing and Willy hushed us girls down. “Now, let’s not lose our heads just yet, because it’s still not 100 percent for sure. These things never are, not until the ink from the signatures is dry.”

“What’s the next step?” asked Laura’s dad. It seemed as if he was getting into this, although her mom still looked a little reserved.

“Yeah,” I asked. “What do we do from here?”

“Eric wants to fly you girls out to Nashville as soon as school is out. You can each bring one parent or guardian with you. Then you’ll do an official audition in the recording studio, in front of the powers that be. After that they’ll have a meeting and decide whether they want you or not.”

“Do you think we really have a chance?” asked Allie. And I could clearly see the hopes of fame and fortune gleaming in her eyes. She’s always wanted to be rich and famous. I just hope this doesn’t go to her head.

“You know, I think we should put this whole thing into God’s hands,”—said Willy in a sober voice. He looked around at the small crowd of us gathered next to the Mitchell’s car—we three girls and Laura’s parents and James. “Why don’t we pray right now?”

And so we did. And to pray like that, out there in the June sunshine, felt like a huge sigh of relief to me. It felt as if the weight was suddenly lifted as we put the whole thing into God’s hands. “Your will be done,” Willy finally said. And we all said, “Amen!”

Then Willy offered to take Allie and me home and speak with both of our parents. “Thanks,” said Allie. “My mom acted all happy and everything, but she kinda sounded like she thought I was making it all up too. Like when I was a little girl and I got my hopes up that I was going to win this dirt bike in a drawing at the hardware store in town. Of course, I didn’t win. Anyway, it’ll probably help to have her hear about it from a grown-up.”

So I waited at Allie’s as Willy explained to Elise what exactly was going on. And it was really sweet to see little Davie climb onto Willy’s
knee as he spoke. Davie sat there quietly playing with Willy’s cross (Willy always wears this cross made from two nails hanging by a leather cord), and every once in a while Davie would reach up and pat Willy on the cheek and just smile.

“Well, I guess that sounds legit.” Elise stood and shook her head as if it was all just sinking in. “Amazing though. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to rush you off, but I really have to be to work in about fifteen minutes.”

“No problem.” Willy set Davie on the floor, then ruffled his hair.

“And I hope they don’t expect me to pay for Allie’s plane tickets or hotel room or anything.” She frowned as she picked up her work smock and purse. “We’re barely scraping by as it is.”

He waved his hand. “No, no, you won’t need to worry about a thing. The recording company will provide two round-trip tickets as well as food and hotel rooms and any other expenses for each girl along with one adult to accompany her.”

Elise looked startled now. “Well, I can’t possibly go to Nashville with her. I have work—and I have Davie—and I—”

“Mom!” cried Allie. “You have to go.”

“It sounds fun, Allie, but you know as well as I do that it’s impossible.” Elise frantically dug in her purse for her car keys. “Maybe you should ask your father to—”

“No way!” Allie shook her head. “He’s the last person on—”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for this right now. We’ll just have to figure it out later.”

Allie looked a little bummed now, but Willy assured her that it would all work out. “If it’s God’s will, you don’t need to worry about a thing. It’ll all fall right into place.”

Next we went to my house, but by the time we got there my parents had already left. A note on the breakfast bar said they were off playing golf with the Stephensens until four.

“Sorry, Willy,” I said as I walked him back to the door. Now I felt a little let down too. Here I am having the biggest event of my life and my parents take off. But then why should that surprise me?

Willy turned and looked at me. “You should call Josh.”

“Yes!” I nodded eagerly. “That’s what I’ll do.”

And so I called and actually got Josh, live, on the phone. He’d just gotten back from church and was changing his clothes to go jogging. He was so excited that he totally made up for Mom’s lack of enthusiasm. He whooped and hollered and even told his roommate that his little sister was going to be famous.

Then I told him about Mom’s reaction.

“Oh, you know how she can be, Chloe. Don’t take it to heart. It’s probably from working at the law
firm too long. She thinks everyone’s a rip-off artist.” We both laughed.

And so, despite Mom’s ho-hum attitude, I am still excited. I think something big is in the works. And I’m not going to worry because, like Willy said, it’s all in God’s hands. If He wants it to happen, it will. If not, well, we’ll have to accept that as His will too. But just the same, I really, really want it to happen. I’ve never felt more alive or more in love with God than that night we did the memorial concert. It’s like everything in me was connected that night. It was so right on!

Willy came over to talk to my parents tonight. I can already see that my dad’s getting pretty excited about the whole thing, especially after talking about it to his friend Ron Stephensen (a music professor at the college who’s always believed in Redemption’s possibilities), but for whatever reason, my mom’s still holding back.

“This is quite an opportunity,” said Willy after he explained the basic deal to my parents. “No guarantees, but the experience itself is invaluable and could lead to something else.”

“And the music company is paying for everything?” my mom asked for what seemed like the sixth time.

Willy nodded. “You bet. Eric Green thinks these girls have the right stuff. And he’s fairly high up there at Omega. Still, it’s a joint decision, and the president has the final say.”

“Let’s say that Omega does like the band,” continued my mom. “What does that really mean? What kind of a contract are we talking about? Is it really worth all this fuss?”

“Do you know much about the music industry, Mrs. Killer?”

She smiled politely. “You can call me Joy.”

“Joy.” He smiled back. “Do you know much about the industry?”

She shook her head.

“Well, the girls won’t be instant millionaires, but it’s not peanuts either.”

“It’s all a little overwhelming,” said my dad, then he grinned. “But if Chloe can handle it, then I suppose we can too.”

“Like I said—” Willy shook his head as if still taking it in himself—“it’s an amazing opportunity. And even though the odds are still stacked against them for making it really big, those odds are still a whole lot better than winning the lottery.”

“So, who wants to go to Nashville with me?” I asked.

Mom frowned. “That’s not a very good week for me to be gone from work, Chloe. There’s a big case and—”

“No problem,” said Dad. “I’d love to go!” “Really?”

He nodded. “School’s out next week. And I’ve got vacation time.”

“What exactly do you do, Stan?” asked Willy. “I know you work at the local college.”

“He’s the dean of admissions,” I said proudly.

“It’s not as if I have the whole summer off, but I can certainly take some vacation time off for this.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thank you, Chloe.” He reached over and
squeezed my shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”

And for the first time since I scored the winning soccer goal back in seventh grade, it felt like Dad was actually proud of me. Really proud. And that was so cool. Still, I can’t figure Mom. It’s as though she’s not even excited. It almost feels as if she’d like the whole thing to just blow over. It’s weird.