Leah on the Offbeat
Page 15

“I just had this really cool thought,” Taylor continues. “So, like, everyone—oh my God, everyone—is telling me they love the way my voice and Nick’s voice blend together. Like, so many people have told me they just got chills listening to us.” She laughs. “Isn’t that funny?”
“So funny.”
“Anyway.” She beams. “I was thinking—what if Nick was in our band?”
I pause, narrowing my eyes. “What?”
“Like, we could add a harmony line to the lead vocals, or maybe even rework our set list to include some duets. And, obviously, he could play guitar.”
“We have Nora.”
“Right, of course! But what if we had two lead guitarists? I just think it would add this extra dimension to the sound, you know? And obviously, having a guy in the band would add so much vocal range.”
“Yeah, but we’re an all-girl band. That’s kind of the point.”
Taylor nods eagerly. “Oh, totally. Like, I totally get that. But I was also thinking maybe it would be sort of cool to have, like, an all-girl band with a guy singer. You never see that. You always see an all-boy band with a girl singer, so this would be like a reversal, you know?”
I mean, holy shit. She’s serious. She wants Nick in our girl band. So, now I’m wondering how hard you can side-eye someone before your eyes stick that way. Permanent side-eye. It’ll look great with my resting bitch face.
“Anyway, maybe we could discuss it at rehearsal? We’re still meeting today, right?”
Fuck. Hadn’t remembered that. And I’m really not up for an afternoon with Morgan. Really, extremely, wholeheartedly not up for it.
But I’m not a total dick. So at the end of the day, when Anna finds me at my locker, I follow without protest.
Everyone’s already in the music room when we get there. There’s Nora, cross-legged on the floor, tuning her guitar. Taylor’s on the floor, too, in a butterfly yoga pose, and Morgan’s planted stiffly in a plastic blue chair. She stares at her knees when I walk into the room.
“Well,” Anna says slowly. “We’re all here.”
I scoot near the piano, scrunching my legs up in front of me. Nora bites her lip, eyes drifting from Morgan to me. No one speaks.
Anna shakes her head. “Okay, y’all want to do the whole awkward silence thing? Fine. Get it out of your system.” She pulls out her phone. “Five minutes. Go.”
“What, you’re timing us?”
“Four minutes and forty-eight seconds.” Anna holds up her phone.
“This is ridiculous,” Morgan mutters.
Anna nods shortly. “I agree. You guys are being ridiculous.”
“Are you serious?”
“Four minutes and nineteen seconds.”
I blink. “Wow. So, Morgan says something blatantly racist, I call her out on it, but somehow we’re both equally ridiculous? Just some silly girl drama?”
“Leah, you’re overreacting, and you know it. It was one stupid comment,” says Anna.
“One racist comment.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Morgan wince.
“Yeah, don’t lecture me about racism,” Anna says.
My whole body clenches. “You know what? I don’t even know if I want to be in the band anymore.”
“Oh, come on.” Anna rolls her eyes. “Because of Morgan?”
I shrug, cheeks burning.
“So, you’re telling me,” Anna says, “that you’re throwing away a year of work and collaboration and everything, because of one comment?”
Anna’s looking at me like I just choked a puppy. Nora and Taylor are silent, and I don’t dare look at Morgan. I stare down at the floor.
“I’m just—”
“Like, you’re mad. I get it. But holy shit. Quitting the band?”
“It’s not like the band’s going to last forever.” I laugh, but it comes out flat. “We graduate in less than three months.”
And in that moment—for a split second—I feel it. How short that is. How soon everything changes. It’s strange, because good-byes are a thing I can understand intellectually, but they almost never feel real. Which makes it hard to brace for impact. I don’t know how to miss people when they’re standing right in front of me.
“Look, we had a good run.” A lump rises in my throat. “But you can’t force this. I’m not okay making music with—”
Anna’s phone alarm rings, making all of us jump.
Then Morgan stands. “You know what? Let’s just do it this way. I’m the fuckup. I’m the one who ruined the band.” Her voice breaks. “So clearly, I’m the one who should leave.”
Anna sighs. “Morgan, come on.”
“No, it’s cool. I know when I’m not wanted. I’m super used to it.” She swipes the corners of her eyes with her fingers. Then she scrunches up her mouth and walks swiftly to the door, slamming it shut behind her.
“Wow. Hope you’re happy,” says Anna.
“Okay, can you stop?” Nora says, whirling to face her. “This isn’t Leah’s fault.”
Anna opens her mouth to reply, but Taylor cuts her off. “Okay, can someone please explain to me what just happened?”
We all look at her.
Taylor looks perplexed. “Morgan just quit the band?”
“Apparently,” Anna says.
“Okay.” Taylor pauses, pressing her lips together. You can almost see her mind whirring. “Wow. So, I guess we need a fifth person.”
Jesus. “Taylor, we’re not letting Nick in the band.”
“Okay, but—”
“Nick isn’t even a keyboardist,” Nora says.
“No, he’s not,” confirms Nick, and my head whips toward the doorway. He’s standing, flanked by Bram and Garrett, all in soccer shorts. And then there’s Abby, in gym clothes. I’m a little caught off guard. I didn’t even hear them come in.
Taylor beams. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Well,” Bram says. “I have a favor to—”
“Wait,” Garrett interjects, smiling almost sheepishly. “Did you just say you need a keyboardist?”
“You’re a keyboardist?” asks Taylor.
“Well. I’m a pianist.”
Nora gapes at him. “Excuse me?”
Garrett laughs. “A pi-a-nist,” he enunciates, sauntering into the music room. He sinks down next to me and grins. “A pianist with a—”
“Yeah, we get it,” I say.
“We do need a pianist,” Taylor says slowly. “Morgan just quit the band.”
“What? Really?” says Garrett.
“Yeah, because Leah was being a dick again,” Anna mutters.
“Oh.” Garrett glances nervously between Anna and me. “This is about the UGA thing?”
“You mean the fact that Morgan thought I got in because I’m black,” Abby says.
“She doesn’t actually think that.” Anna blushes. “No one thinks that.”
Abby snorts. “You’d be surprised.”
And then no one speaks for what feels like an hour.
Finally, Taylor turns to Bram. “What’s your favor?”
“Right.” Bram shoots her a tiny smile, shutting the door gently behind him. “So, I think I’ve got my promposal figured out.”
“What? Oh my God!” Taylor exclaims. “You’re promposing to Simon?”
He nods slightly, and she emits a joyful squeak.
“But I need you guys—Nora, you especially. He’s giving you a ride tomorrow, right?”
“To school?” Nora nods. “Yeah.”
“Do you think it would be possible to get him down here at exactly eight fifteen?”
“You’re promposing to him in the music room?” I ask.
“Yes. Hopefully. And actually, I have a question for you, too.”
“Hit it,” I say, peeking over his shoulder, where Nick’s settled onto the floor beside Taylor. It’s hard to know what to make of that. Maybe it means he hasn’t made up with Abby. Not that I care. It’s just weird.