Virtually in Love (9 page)

“Um, Chloe?”

Oops. I realized it wasn't Kaz calling back after all.

“Hi, Trevor,” I said. “Sorry. I just hung up with Kaz, and he sent this picture, and, well, never mind.” Taking a deep breath, I told myself to focus. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He sounded a little confused. No wonder. “Sorry I'm a little late calling you. The band ended up going out for food after rehearsal. We wanted to celebrate and make Zoe feel welcome, you know?”

“Zoe?” I echoed. “I take it that's the new chick drummer you texted about?”

He chuckled. “Oh right, sorry. Yeah, that's her. It's weird—she's been in the band only about five minutes, but it's already like she fits right in.”

“That's cool.” I got up from my desk and flopped onto my bed.

“Yeah, she's an amazing drummer, and she really gets our sound. We think she's exactly what the band needs to finally break out. Especially if we get to play the Scene soon.”

He sounded so excited, I wanted to reach right through the phone and hug him. “I bet you will.”

“I think so too. Did I tell you Zoe's ex-boyfriend actually works there?”

“No.” He seemed to forget this was our first conversation about the fabulous Zoe. But that was okay; I got the same way sometimes when I was excited about something.

“Yeah. She's going to try to get in touch with him and set something up for us. We're so psyched!”

“I can tell,” I said with a laugh. “That's great, Trev, seriously. You guys have been working really hard for a really long time. It's cool things are happening for you.”

“Yeah. It's lucky for us Zoe's old band just broke up. She really fits in already.”

“Uh-huh.” I didn't bother to point out he'd already said that.

“We even started a couple of new songs today. Not done yet, but they're good so far.”

“Cool.” I grabbed Gordo the wonder pig and hugged him, closing my eyes and picturing Trevor playing his guitar. “I can't wait to hear your next set of demos.”

“Don't worry. You'll be the first to get them! I can't wait to hear what you think of the new songs. You have great taste!”

“I know. That's why we get along so well,” I said with a laugh.

He laughed too. “True.”

There was a pause, and I opened my mouth to tell him about Kaz's party. Before I got a word out, though, he spoke up again.

“Anyway, it's great talking to you, but I should probably go.”

“What?” I blurted out, sitting up straight.

“Sorry, Chloe,” he said. “I'm beat, and we're meeting again tomorrow morning to work on those new songs some more.”

“Oh,” I murmured. So much for that late-night chat I'd been looking forward to. It felt as if we'd barely started talking! I still wanted to tell him about Kaz's party, and fill him in on the latest preparations for the dance marathon, and maybe even talk him into a little sing-along like we did sometimes . . . .

But I supposed it could wait. What good was telling him all that if he fell asleep halfway through?

“Okay, sweet dreams,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “I'll text you tomorrow.”

“Cool. Night, night, Chloe.”

I set my phone aside, still smiling at his obvious excitement. He was so talented, so devoted to his music. He deserved to make it big if anyone did.

And I'll be right there supporting him
, I reminded myself.

I could picture it now—Trevor up onstage with the band, screaming fans going crazy out in the audience. But I'd have the best view in the house from where I got to hang out backstage. After the show, Trevor would rush offstage and hug me, all sweaty and excited from yet another spectacular performance. We'd go eat somewhere out of the way, like Aesop's, where people were less likely to recognize him and pester him for autographs. We'd order—maybe we'd even play the menu game like my friends and I did—and talk late into the night over greasy food and coffee, then step out into the darkness where he'd grab me for a super-romantic kiss until the paparazzi spotted us and we had to run away, laughing and holding hands . . . .

It was still early, but I climbed into bed, pulled the sheet up to my chin, and hugged Gordo the wonder pig to my chest, letting that glittering future fill my mind. My eyes drifted shut, and moments later I was drifting off to sleep, already dreaming of my bright and romantic life with the coolest guy ever.

Chapter
Seven

T
he next planning meeting for
the dance marathon took place at the community center. Since it was pretty close to my house, I walked instead of catching a ride with my friends. Both Kaz and Vanessa were already there when I came in, along with Maya, almost the entire cheerleading squad, and at least two dozen people from the band, orchestra, and chorus. We were in the biggest meeting room, a cavernous space almost as large as the auditorium that doubled as an indoor basketball court in the winter. Folding chairs were set up in a semicircle at one end, and a podium stood at the center where Maya was standing.

“Good, you're here.” Maya glanced at me briefly, sounding distracted as she shuffled through a bunch of papers. “We were about to get started.”

“Sorry I'm late,” I said. “My family went out for brunch and my parents took forever to eat. I mean, how long can you dither over whether to order the southwestern omelet or the Mediterranean one? Not to mention having to salt every bite of it separately. Seriously, my dad has a problem, you know?”

Knowing I was babbling, I shot a sidelong glance toward my friends. Vanessa smiled at me, and Kaz waved me over, indicating a free seat with them. While I was talking to Trevor the night before, I'd managed to almost forget about what Kaz had asked me at the party. But it had come roaring back as soon as I'd opened my eyes that morning. What was I going to tell him? I didn't want to break his heart or make things weird between us. But talking to Trevor had only reminded me what true romance was supposed to be all about.

“Hi,” I said as I joined them, wondering if this was going to be totally uncomfortable. “Um, what's up? What's happening? What's the deal?”

“Not much, awkward girl,” Kaz said, grinning. “You can relax, okay? I'm not going to bug you about you-know-what.” He shot a look around at the other attendees, none of whom were paying us the slightest bit of attention. “Not the time or the venue.”

“Oh. Um, good.” I smiled at him, relieved. At least I had a little more time to come up with the right words.

When he turned away, Vanessa raised her eyebrows at me. I made a face at her. That was all the pantomimed conversation we had time for, since Maya called the meeting to order a second later.

“Let's start by talking about who's going to do what over the next seven days,” she said. “This is going to be a ton of work if we want it to be a success.”

“And we totally do,” one of the other cheerleaders piped in. “Right, guys?”

I hooted and whistled along with everybody else. Kaz stood up and pumped his fist. “Let's do it!” he cried.

We all laughed and cheered again. Kaz really knows how to energize a crowd—he's always been like that. His natural enthusiasm is totally infectious. I smiled fondly as he flopped down into his chair again.

“Cool, so let's get started.” Maya swept a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. Then she consulted the notebook she was holding. “Okay, so the most important part of all this is to keep on getting lots of people to pledge money to sponsor us and the kids.”

One of the cheerleaders raised her hand. “Will people only be sponsoring the dancers? Or the musicians, too?”

“Both, right?” Kaz said. “I mean, the more the merrier.”

I nodded. “My parents already said they're going to sponsor me and Kaz and Van and a few of the kids.” I grinned. “Actually, it's more like I told them they were, and they didn't say no.”

Maya chuckled. “Good. And yeah, the musicians should definitely be getting sponsors too.” She scribbled something in her notebook. “But we shouldn't just settle for hitting up our friends and families, right?”

“I already asked my neighbor to sponsor me,” a girl in the back called out.

“Great,” Maya said. “But I was thinking even bigger than that. What if we set up a table at, like, the supermarket or wherever? We could try to get sponsors that way, too.”

“Ooh, I like!” Kaz exclaimed. “They let us have the student council bake sale outside the store last year. I can ask them if we can set up a table there this week.”

I smiled again. That was Kaz for you—always the first to volunteer. He really was a great guy . . . .

“I live near the store,” a beefy trombone player put in. “We can use my dad's card table.”

“I have photos of some of the S&D kids on my phone,” Vanessa added. “I could make up a flyer with some of them so people can see where their money is going.”

“Perfect. Thanks, all of you.” Maya made another note and then pulled a page out of her notebook and stepped toward us. “Also, Vanessa, can you make a sign-up sheet right now? We'll pass it around and you all can sign up for shifts at the table.”

“Sure.” Vanessa took the sheet of paper and pen Maya handed her, and went to work.

The meeting continued from there, but my attention drifted a little. I was watching Kaz out of the corner of my eye. Yes, he was a great guy—one of the coolest people I'd ever met, actually. Any girl would be proud to have him as her boyfriend.

So why was I so convinced he wasn't the right boyfriend for
me
? Somehow I'd just never seen him that way. There had to be a reason for that, right? An explanation for why Kaz inspired the term
friendship
rather than
romance
?

As usual, even thinking the word
romance
started my favorite song playing in my head. The familiar lyrics seemed to take on deeper meaning given my current thoughts. They were all about destiny, about how when you met Mr. or Ms. Right, it hit you like a bolt of lightning—leaving no doubt it was meant to be.

Nothing like that had ever happened between me and Kaz. I mean, I had no actual memory of when we'd first met, given we'd both been drooling and wearing diapers at the time. Not exactly that magical, eyes-meeting-across-a-crowded-room capital-
M
Moment, right?

So maybe that answered the question. Kaz and I were friends—best friends. Just like me and Vanessa. The kind of friends who went out on double or triple dates together and were best man or woman at each other's weddings and whose kids played together someday. Kaz would always be in my life. We definitely didn't need to involve any romance for that to be certain.

Especially since I already had my dream true romance—Trevor. Talk about a cute how-we-got-together story to tell at the wedding! I could picture it now. Kaz could do the toast and turn the whole thing into an adorable and humorous and totally romantic story. Then he and Vanessa and all the other guests would toast us as Trevor and I had our first dance together to Of Note's version of “True Romance.”

The song swelled in my mind, the part toward the end when the lead singer is sort of wailing out some random vocal runs while the other guys are in the background singing,

Meant to be,

You and me.

Yeah, meant to be,

Just you and meeee . . .

I sighed, so overwhelmed by the perfection of it all that I could hardly stand it. Not that I was actually ready to propose anytime soon, or expecting him to, of course. I mean, we were only fifteen—we had plenty of time for that stuff. But for now? Yeah, it was a sweet daydream. One that reminded me how perfect this was. How Trevor and I were meant to be.

I jolted back to reality when Kaz accidentally elbowed me in the shoulder while jumping excitedly to his feet. “I have an old electric keyboard I could bring if anyone wants to play that,” he called out.

Rubbing my shoulder, I blinked and glanced around, realizing I'd completely lost track of the meeting. “What are we talking about?” I whispered to Vanessa.

“Kaz had an idea for the band,” Vanessa murmured back. “He thought we should branch out—make it more like a real jam band than a school band. We're figuring out who should play what extra instruments.”

“Oh.” I listened as a violinist from the orchestra volunteered to play Kaz's keyboard, and one of the percussionists said he could bring his electric guitar. More people spoke up, offering extra instruments from banjos to bongos to bass guitars. One of the cheerleaders even said her mom had an old harp she could bring in.

“I have no idea how to play it,” she said with a shrug. “But maybe someone could figure it out.”

“Kaz?” several people said at once.