Take A Bow Part 18

Carter looks so relaxed and happy. He never really appeared to be miserable, but I think before it was an act and now it's real.

He continues. "So I bought a ton of art books abroad and have been really inspired to paint. I'm going to start working with a tutor to take the GED in a couple months, then art school."

"That's great, Carter. I'm really proud of you."

He nods to himself. "Thanks. Me, too. I can't believe how much things have changed in the last couple of months. Who knows, maybe someday you'll be coming to one of my art openings! Crazier things have happened."

I laugh. Certainly, out of everything that has transpired since the beginning of school, Carter holding an art exhibition would be considered extremely normal.

"Guys!" Jack gets up and starts jumping up and down. "We got five minutes."

Carter excuses himself and the four of us get in a circle.

We put our arms around each other and Jack leans in for what's supposed to be a pep talk, but he usually ends up insulting each of us. "Okay, our last Christmas gig. Ethan's sober, so that's an improvement over last year.... Red is going to rock her guitar solo, although try to not make the rest of us look so inferior, O Red One.... Ben, you look adorable in your elf ears."

Our hands go into the center.

Jack shouts out, "Jack rules on three. One, Two!"

"Jack sucks!" The three of us shout back.

"Aww, come on, where's the love?"

We all walk out to the stage with Jack shouting, "Forget about your presents now!"

There's no way we aren't going to get our presents from Jack.

After the show, the four of us head to Ethan's house, and Jack makes a big to-do about our presents. We each open our gifts to find a framed, near life-size photo of Jack's face.

"I know you guys are going to miss me...." His smile fades at the words.

The rest of us exchange presents. I got each of the guys a personalized leather notebook filled with sheet music.

"For when you get inspired and aren't near a computer."

"You're so old-school, Red!" Jack gives me a kiss on the cheek.

Ethan comes up to me. "Hey, Emme, your gift is on its way. I'm so sorry."

"Don't even worry about it." Ethan always goes a little over the top with gifts. I'm usually embarra.s.sed by my present in comparison, so I'm somewhat grateful that I don't need to feel guilty tonight.

He hands Jack and Ben their presents. Jack unwraps personalized drumsticks with his name and a logo that Trevor designed, while Ben receives designer guitar picks and a matching guitar strap.

"My turn!" Ben hands us each a square box. We untie the bright red and green ribbon to find another notebook. "Look inside."

I open the front cover and gasp. "It's the first picture taken of us." I start flipping through and it is filled with flyers, set lists, ticket stubs of all our concerts.

I don't want to cry ... again. Especially in front of the guys. I hate to be the stereotype of the girl of the group.

"This is awesome...." I hear Jack's voice crack. "Got something in my eye." He wipes away a tear and gives Ben a big bear hug.

The four of us start reminiscing as we go through the sc.r.a.p-book. The dives we've played in, the technical difficulties, the one groupie ... I wouldn't take back a single thing.

"Well, ladies ... and Ethan" - Jack gets up from the couch - "I've got my hot girlfriend waiting for me."

"I'll share a taxi with you." Ben grabs his jacket.

I stand up. "I probably should head out."

"Emme, there's all this cake left." Ethan motions toward the half-eaten chocolate cake on the coffee table.

"Oh, well ..."

Ethan hands me a fork, and Ben and Jack both hug me good night.

I sit down on the plush carpet and dive into the cake. Ethan knows the way to my heart - not that he's after that; he just knows I like food.

I stare at the gigantic Christmas tree in the corner of the room. The white lights decorating the tree fill the room with a soft white glow.

Ethan goes over to the tree and grabs a huge gift-wrapped rectangle.

"Okay, I lied. I have your gift but didn't want you to open it in front of the guys."

Oh.

He sets down the oversize gift and already I know it's too much. I start to tear away the wrapping, to find a cardboard box with no markings. Ethan leans over to cut the tape around the box with a knife.

I lift the tabs open and dig around the plastic wrapping and pull out a black guitar case.

"Ethan ..."

I'm scared to open it. It's a guitar. And I'm sure it isn't from Target, like the ones I use.

I unzip the bag to find a candy apple red electric guitar. But not just any electric guitar, a 1964 Fender Stratocaster.

"I can't ..."

Ethan takes the guitar out and hands it to me.

"I know what you're going to say. But I saw this the other day and thought that you need to have it. So consider it a Christmas, Birthday, Graduation, Kicking a.s.s at the showcase, and Getting into Juilliard gift."

"It's still too much." The guitar is beautiful and I start to strum it. Even unplugged, it sounds wonderful.

"Okay, add putting up with me, holding my hand at the hospital, believing in me, and such."

I shake my head. I know he won't stop until I accept it.

"Plus," he continues, "imagine the damage you can do on your guitar solos with it."

I run my hands up and down the bright red polish. Holding it, I know I won't be able to give it back. I want to plug it in and play.

"And, you know, just remember this gift when we both get into Juilliard."

I look at him and finally get what he means. He always keeps mentioning about what happens if we both get in.

"Ethan, do you think that I wouldn't want you to go to Juilliard?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I sometimes think that maybe you want to go to school by yourself.... Start anew, I guess."

"To be honest, I can't think past the audition. I know you're going to get in, so when I think about Juilliard, I just a.s.sume we'll be there together. But if not, I'll be in Boston. Look at me, like I'm just a.s.suming that Berklee will accept me.

"I just need to take things one at a time. First the showcase, then the auditions. You know that I can't handle too many things at once. I've vowed to not turn into a sobbing wreck for the rest of the semester."

It's getting late, so I get up to leave. Then a thought comes to me. "Hey, Ethan? If I wrote accompaniments, do you think you and the guys would join me on my song?"

"You know we'd love to."

It doesn't feel right to not have them up there with me for my song. Plus, I think adding guitars and a drum would make it a lot stronger. I know that I'd be sad when they left the stage, plus it is one of the last performances we'll be doing. I want us to do as much together as possible before we all head our separate ways.

I turn around before I head to the door. "I'm going to really miss the band next year."

"There's always the summer," he suggests.

But we both know that with the four of us spread across the country, it is going to be hard to pick up right where we left off. Sure, we'll probably play together, but it won't be the same. Nothing will be the same.

I look at Ethan and I know he's harder on himself than anybody I've ever known. He's so self-critical, and it doesn't help that Jack teases him all the time, or that I yelled at him. But after The Incident and The Injury, he's been a lot calmer and hasn't exhibited his usual self-destructive behavior.

"I'm really proud of you," I say.

He looks taken aback.

"Really. I know you've been through a lot, probably tortured yourself more than you should. But when I think about next year, it will make me sad if we aren't together. You mean a lot to me. I never would've had the courage to do that solo if it wasn't for you. So I guess I better practice extra hard so I get in."

"You're going to get in."

And the way he says it, it's like it's a fact. A done deal.

But when Ethan says things like that to me, I believe him. Not because I have a bloated self-esteem, but because when he says it, I want to believe it.

I want to be that person he thinks I am.

And I thought things were bad before.

After winter break, we come back to the Showcase Stress Tsunami. The tension is palpable.

The four of us have a pact that there will be no talk about the upcoming college auditions until after the showcase. We don't even have any gigs to distract us. It is all showcase, all the time.

I'm heading to our practice room when I see a very familiar strand of red hair poking out of a ma.s.s of two guitars, one oversize backpack, and a puffy winter coat.

"Emme!" I call out.

She turns around and accidentally drops one of her guitars. I pick it up.

"Here, give me that as well." I take her backpack. "Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

She smiles at me ... and my heart melts. Every time.

"Can it be May already?" She picks up her other guitar. "I'm not sure if the guitar should be electric or acoustic for my song.... I keep changing my mind, so I thought I'd bring both. Although maybe I should play the piano instead?"

"You're not hiding behind the piano on this one."

She bites her lip. "Yeah, but why do you get to?"

"Because it isn't my moment."

She stops walking. "Can we stop referring to the showcase as my moment? Anytime I think about it, I get sick to my stomach."

I nod. I'd pretty much agree to anything she says. But it will be her moment.

We enter the room and start unpacking our gear. I reach in my pocket and hand her a protein bar.

She waves it away.

"You've got to eat something."

Her stomach pains have gotten worse with the showcase just a week away. She's hardly been eating and she's thin enough as is. Not like I should talk, but when I'm nervous, I eat more. Which is probably why I've gained so much weight (granted, it was needed) since I've been at CPA. Constant nerves.

After she hooks her guitar up, I guide her to a seat.

She looks up at me like she's waiting for a big lecture. I unwrap the bar and hand it to her. "Please eat something."

She takes a small bite.

Jack bursts into the room with his arm around Ben. "Guess who got their early acceptance to Oberlin today?"

Emme screams. "Ben, that's so fantastic!" She gets up and hugs him.

Jack laughs. "Just think about it. A year from now, I'll be in sunny LA, fighting off the advances of the all-bikini-clad female students at CalArts, while the rest of you will be freezing your b.u.t.ts off, this one in the Midwest and you two albinos here."

Emme takes one more bite of the protein bar. She looks at it for a couple seconds and runs over to a garbage can to spit it out.

"What, Red, are you sick to your stomach over the thought of being so far away from me? I'd say you should come to LA, but I think you'd probably spontaneously combust if you stepped into the sun."

I ignore Jack and run over to Emme.

"Sorry, it tastes like chalk." She hands it back to me. "I'll be fine ... once, um, the auditions are over. I hope."

She whips out her water bottle and takes a big sip. She turns her attention to Ben. "Ben, you have to tell us everything. What did the letter say? When did you find out?"