Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
The audience around me exploded into laughter and cheers of celebration for his answer.
I was too lost staring up at him on the stage to even applaud.
I think I was still trying to picture him as my silent guardian, watching me from other tables in the cafeteria, noticing me in the hallway walking by, paying attention, taking mental notes, feeling concern and secretly caring for me all of those years.
Seeing Cole up on that stage, shining like an angel, I suddenly realized it wasn’t so farfetched anymore.
Not farfetched at all.
All of those acts of kindness fit him perfectly.
“Do you want me to take you backstage?” asked TJ. “After this part? When they’re between acts?”
“No,” I said, feeling nervous at the idea. “I’ll see him after the whole thing. He needs to stay focused on the show.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Thanks, TJ.”
“It wouldn’t be a big deal. I mean, I literally live here, and my parents own this place, and … well, that’s fine.” He patted me on the shoulder reassuringly. “But if you change your mind, I will be right here ready to shove security guards aside for you. Okay, just kidding.” Then he went for a sip of his brightly-colored and tasty-looking beverage with an umbrella poking out of it.
I watched the show carry on to the talent portion. I was very moved when Dean King played the piano, getting the audience up on their feet as he made music with his fingers on those keys. It felt like he had a dozen hands, the way his song filled the pavilion. When he took his bow, the audience roared around me with such passion, it was obvious they had fallen in love with him over the course of the night. Nearby, I could see Tyrone King cheering on his uncle, his husband and their daughter next to him whistling. It was an especially impressive performance by Dean that deserved all of the praise it was receiving.
Anthony’s act, in contrast, was a series of awkward mishaps. The audience, as forgiving as they proved to be, stayed with him every step of the way, even shouting out encouragements to keep his spirits up, but the individual words of comfort seemed to fly over Anthony’s head, as he continued to look uncomfortable and miserable and ready to just disappear from everyone’s sight.
The audience’s words of comfort weren’t the only thing that flew over his head; I watched in fear as a misthrown toy hammer came back down from a great height and knocked him right in the nose. He staggered for a second, totally thrown off and blinking the confusion out of his eyes.
It wasn’t as much the actual mistake that caused me worry.
It was the blood that dripped from his forehead afterwards.
“Thanks,” he muttered at the audience when he finished, barely audible even through the amplification of the microphone. He didn’t seem to hear the one or two people shouting at him that he was bleeding—nor the laughter from those who likely thought it was all part of the act.
I knew it wasn’t.
And I knew Cole was about to see it.
Maybe I should take up TJ on that offer to slip backstage.
But as soon as I had the thought, Cole sauntered out from the wings, seeming completely relaxed and ready to perform, which caught me by surprise. I supposed it was just pure luck that Cole hadn’t seen or noticed Anthony’s wound.
When the speaker malfunctioned soon after his music began, leaving the stage silent and awkward, it came to me as no surprise that Cole would be brave enough to sing the song with no backing music at all. I was in an immediate trance along with the audience, all of us following him on this brave, daring adventure, navigating through the emotional lyrics of the song with no music. Each and every note rang out with sweeping passion. His voice drew me in like a dream, and until the last piece of melody left his lips, I was not once let go or abandoned.
It was just us again in that restaurant when we shared crepes on our first date.
His eyes upon me.
My eyes upon his—and a forkful of crepe in my mouth.
Even the amazed roar of the audience around me when the song ended could not break the spell Cole had cast over me with the beauty of that song.
“Goodness, I did not know that boy could sing so beautifully like that!” muttered my mother from behind. “He could join the Spruce Fellowship choir as their leading man!”
“Don’t say that around Burton,” I mumbled, thinking of his jealous, borderline narcissistic side.
“Oh, I certainly won’t,” agreed my mom, “but I will put a bug in Reverend Trey’s ear, you’d better bet I will.”
Soon after that, Frankie announced the start of the auction, which everyone had most eagerly been waiting for all night. Then, to my surprise, Cole was ushered right back onto the stage, despite everyone having expected Dean to go first instead, honoring the usual order.