Turn It Up Page 2

  “Forget about the functions quiz, nerd. You’re not going to need precalc when you’re rocking the stage at the Hollywood Bowl in front of eighteen thousand screaming fans,” Travis said.

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  Travis grinned. “Remember Nic Aragon?”

  “Nic Aragon?” Emily sat up straight—or tried to, anyway. Stupid beanbag chair. Nic Aragon was a talent scout who’d invited Hashtag to make a demo last fall. Emily had come this close to missing Regionals because the recording session had taken place on the same exact day, in Los Angeles, at SV Studios.

  But that was back in November, and they hadn’t heard from Nic since then. Talent scouts were supposed to seek out groups like Hashtag and hook them up with record companies. Did Travis finally have some news?

  “Well?” Alex demanded.

  “Yeah, spill,” Kyle added.

  “Two words. Rampage. Records,” Travis said slowly.

  Alex raised his eyebrows. “Rampage Records? Calla’s label?”

  Calla? The Calla? Emily practically fell out of her beanbag chair. The bad-girl pop star from Belfast, Ireland, was one of her favorite singers ever.

  Travis nodded. “Calla, the Blue Skinks, Indianapolis, Soul Alignment… you name it. Nick shared our demo with Jacinta Cruz, who’s, like, one of the big executives at Rampage. Nic says they might be interested in signing us up.”

  Emily’s breath caught in her throat. Signing up… as in a recording contract? This was huge.

  “We’re gonna be famous!” Alex yelled.

  “We’re gonna be rich!” Kyle picked up a pair of drumsticks and played a riff on the cymbals.

  The basement door opened. “Can you rich-and-famous rock stars lower the volume? We’re trying to get the baby to sleep,” Mrs. Hollister called down the stairs.

  “Sorry, Mom!” Travis replied. “So,” he said to the group. “Next step. Nic said Jacinta wants us to write and record a couple more songs. I’m gonna drive to Los Angeles this weekend to meet with her and get more details. Does anyone have ideas for new material?”

  As the three guys discussed song ideas, Emily tried to digest what was happening. A meeting in LA. Recording sessions. A possible contract. This was a dream come true for any high school band.

  Of course, Emily wasn’t an official Hashtag member. She sang with them from time to time, when they needed a female vocalist, but Rampage Records was probably just interested in the three main guys. She was really happy for them and not in the least bit envious.

  Well, maybe a little envious.

  At eight o’clock on the dot, Mr. Arellano texted Emily—he was waiting for her outside. Emily said good-bye to Alex and Kyle, and Travis walked her upstairs.

  In the dimly lit hallway, Emily grabbed her jean jacket from the coatrack. Travis put his hand on her shoulder and said: “Wait up. I want to talk to you.”

  “Sure. About what?”

  “About the big news. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s totally amazing! Congratulations!” Emily replied.

  “Um, well… congratulations to you, too! You’re part of this,” Travis told her.

  “Not exactly. I mean, I’m not even in the band. Not officially, anyway,” Emily hedged.

  Travis grinned. “So let’s make it official. I now pronounce you a member of Hashtag. Problem solved.”

  “Wow. Thank you. I’m really, really flattered.” Emily hesitated. “The thing is, I have a zillion other things going on right now. My parents told me I have to cut back on extracurricular activities.”

  Travis regarded her with his green eyes. His nice green eyes that went so well with his blond hair, which was super-short, except for the long bangs that fell across his face. Paired with his black NHS JAZZ BAND T-shirt and dark skinny jeans, Travis was pretty cute, in an emo sort of way. Why hadn’t she noticed before?

  “Emily, you should know that Nic told me that Rampage liked the songs with your vocals on it the best,” Travis said.

  Emily gasped. “Omigod, really?”

  “Really. Hashtag needs you.” Travis paused. “I need you.”

  His hand slid from her shoulder to her elbow to her wrist, and it lingered there lightly. His touch on her bare skin was warm and intimate.

  Emily’s heart skipped a beat as she extracted her hand from Travis’s and took a step back. Why was he having this effect on her all of a sudden? They were friends. Besides which, he totally wasn’t her type. She liked jocks, not band geeks. Lacrosse stars, not guitar players.

  “Come to LA with me on Sunday?” Travis asked.

  I can’t, she thought.

  But before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and said, “Okay.”

  She really had to learn to say no one of these days.

  CHAPTER 3

  “So what classes do you have this morning?” Devin asked Josh—or rather, the image of Josh on her laptop screen, complete with sun-streaked blond hair, light blue eyes, and surfer-boy tan. In the background, she could see that his room was a total disaster, as always: bed unmade, clothes strewn across the floor, his acoustic guitar, which he called Lucy, propped precariously against an overflowing trash can. The two of them were squeezing in an early Skype session before they had to leave for their respective schools: Northside High for her and Spring Park High for him, hundreds of miles north.

  Before, when people asked Devin where she went to school, she would say, “Spring Park.” Then she’d correct herself: I used to go there, but my mom and I moved down here last summer. My sister, Sage, is a sophomore at UCLA, and we wanted to be closer to her. Plus, there’s the whole divorce thing. My parents split up, and my mom, she’s a nurse, she wanted to start over somewhere brand-new…

  Lately, though, she hadn’t had that problem. When Devin thought about school, she thought about Northside. When she thought about home, she thought about their new house on Jacaranda Street. Sure, it had ugly, peeling wallpaper and old, rickety ceiling fans instead of central air. But there was plenty of closet space and an old-fashioned tub that was perfect for long bubble baths. And her cat, Emerald, loved its sunny windowsills, ideal for napping and bird-stalking.

  Josh’s face had frozen on the screen.

  “Josh?” Devin said, pressing random keys. “Are you there?”

  A moment later, the image stirred to life.

  “—class,” Josh finished.

  “What? I totally missed, like, the last thirty seconds,” Devin told him.

  “I said, I’ve got history, then English, then algebra, then lunch with Nina and Cameron and the Goose. And Mrs. Hendrickson’s sick, so we have a sub. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so he pretty much lets us goof off the whole time. He even lets us text in class,” Josh replied. “How ’bout you?”

  “How ’bout me what?”

  “What classes do you have this morning?” Josh asked.

  “Um… uh… the same as last semester, basically,” Devin replied. She glanced around the room, trying to find her shirt for cheer practice. Where had she left it? Last fall, when her mom had practically blackmailed her into joining the squad, Devin could have cared less about wearing the “right” clothes for practice. Boys’ soccer shorts and ratty old Hanes tees had suited her just fine.

  Now things were different. She was the JV cocaptain. She had to do this right. Actually, she wanted to do this right.

  “Devver? You still there?”

  “Sorry, I’m here!”

  “Hey, did I tell you I got an A on my epic bio project about acid rain? You know, the one I was forced to do with my new BFF Stephanie von Tresser?”

  “That’s great!” Devin said distractedly.

  “Um, Devver? That was a joke. About Stephanie being my new BFF. You were supposed to laugh,” Josh said pointedly. “Because Stephanie is so mean that she makes Darcy Dingman seem like the nicest person on the planet. Get it?”

  Devin smiled. She had no idea who Darcy Dingman was.

  “Jo
sh! You’re going to miss your bus!” Devin could hear Mrs. Griffith yell.

  Josh sighed. “Oops, gotta go. Skype later?”

  “Sure. Have a great day.”

  “You too, Devver.”

  The Skype window went dark. Josh was gone. Devin realized that her smile was still plastered to her face.

  She also realized that she’d forgotten to apologize to him for last night.

  They’d had a dumb fight. It was the whole reason they’d arranged to Skype this morning, actually. Josh had posted his first YouTube video a few days ago, of him playing guitar and singing an original composition. He’d asked her to check it out, and she’d forgotten. He’d reminded her about the post three times before getting totally annoyed and accusing her of not being interested in his thing (music) because she was so wrapped up in her thing (cheering).

  She’d finally taken a look at the video late last night. It was a song called “So Far Away,” about two people who used to be in love.

  It seemed like a million years ago since Josh had visited her for New Year’s. Was it only last week? His visit had been a weird combination of fun and awkward. She’d shown him around Sunny Valley and taken him to Humble Pie, which had the best slices—even better than the pizza place they used to go to in Spring Park. They’d gone to the movies three days in a row and gorged on nacho cheese–flavored popcorn and root beer.

  Those were the fun parts. As for the awkward stuff… well, if Devin was being totally honest with herself, things hadn’t exactly felt romantic during their visit.

  New Year’s Eve, for example. They’d stayed up to watch the ball drop. At midnight, Mrs. Isle had excused herself to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate, so that Devin and Josh could have a minute alone. Josh had leaned in for the big New Year’s kiss… and Devin had leaned in to kiss him… and they’d ended up missing each other’s lips. Two seconds later, they’d gone back to sitting on opposite ends of the couch, making fun of the holiday revelers on TV.

  Devin liked Josh so much. More than any guy she’d ever met. But lately, their Skype sessions were becoming fewer and farther between. And when they did manage to connect, they didn’t have a lot to say. In person, they were more like good friends than girlfriend and boyfriend.

  Devin’s life was Southern California, Northside High, cheerleading, and her new friends. Josh’s life was Northern California, Spring Park High, music, and their old friends.

  Would they get back in sync soon? Or were they destined to be on parallel tracks forever?

  “IMHO? The only solution to boyfriend problems is to dump the boyfriend,” Emily told Devin. “Wow! When-slash-why did Marylou Jenkins get highlights? It looks like a family of skunks is nesting on her head.”

  Devin giggled and bit into her turkey-on-rye sandwich. It was lunchtime, and she and Emily were sitting together in the sunlit cafeteria. Chloe and Kate normally ate with them, but they had slightly different schedules this semester, and didn’t have lunch until next period.

  Devin had told Emily about her not-great Skype session with Josh. She wasn’t much of a confider, but Emily was so easy to talk to—not to mention totally relentless when it came to extracting personal information.

  Taking a sip of root beer, Devin mulled over Emily’s advice. “I don’t want to break up with Josh. He’s special,” she said finally.

  “Every guy is special in his own way. Like, see Naveen Chanda over there?” Emily pointed with her kombucha-tea bottle. “He has really, really special pecs. And see Malcolm Heller? He’s got the most special blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  Devin grinned. Emily was certifiably boy-crazy.

  “What about you? Do you, you know, like anyone?” Devin asked curiously.

  Emily picked up her fork and stabbed a cherry tomato with it. “Nah. I’m waaay too busy for guys right now,” she said vaguely.

  Devin frowned. Was it her imagination, or was Emily hiding something? Did she have a secret crush?

  Emily took a sip of her drink and leaned across the table. Devin wasn’t sure what kombucha tea was, but it smelled kind of gross, like sour pickles. “Dev, if I tell you something, do you promise you won’t tell Chloe and Kate?” Emily said in a low voice.

  “Sure,” Devin said, flattered. She had always thought of herself as the fourth wheel in the Emily-Chloe-Kate triumvirate—and now Emily was confiding in her? Cool.

  “Remember Hashtag? The band I sang with at homecoming? They—I mean, we—might get a record deal. Can you believe it?” Emily said excitedly.

  “Omigod, for real? That’s incredible!” Devin cried out.

  “The thing is, they want more songs from us. Which means more work. And if we actually get a contract, well, I’d have to give up cheering,” Emily rambled on. “I’ll barely have time for school. I’m not sure how my parents would feel about it, either. I mean, it’s one thing to sing with Hashtag for fun. It’s another thing to do it, you know, like, professionally. I’m only fourteen.”

  “Yeah, I see your point,” Devin said.

  “That’s why I can’t tell Chloe and Kate. Not yet, anyway. They’re way too obsessed with cheering. They wouldn’t understand.”

  Devin nodded. “Got it.”

  “Great!” Emily reached into her backpack and pulled out a glittery spiral notebook labeled REALLY IMPORTANT STUFF in purple marker, with REALLY underlined three times. “Okay, new topic! I have to come up with a killer concept for the fund-raiser on the twenty-fifth. Do you have any brilliant ideas? Say yes!”

  “Who me? Um, not really,” Devin replied, flustered. She wasn’t used to people asking her for fund-raising advice. Back in Spring Park, her gymnastics team had raised money by selling wrapping paper, and she had sold exactly nine dollars’ worth: to her dad, her mom, and one of her mom’s coworkers at the hospital. Last fall, she’d made a strawberry-rhubarb pie for the cheerleading squad’s bake sale. That was the extent of her fund-raising experience.

  “Well, you’ve gotta help me. I’m thinking maybe a car wash. Or a dunking booth. Or—” Emily stopped and shook her head. “No, boring! We need something fresh and new so we can rake in a ton of money. Half of it will go to Nationals, and the other half will go to the charity of our choice. Coach Steele told me we still have to raise some money for Nationals expenses, or the cheerleaders and their families will have to cough that up on their own. Which would suck.”

  Their squad was big into charities and community service in general. Devin liked that. Last fall, they had donated money to a local organization called Hearts Heal. In fact, after practice yesterday, Chloe had mentioned something about doing extra volunteer work for the group on her own.

  “I know, let’s have a brainstorming sesh!” Emily suggested. “I’ll text Chloe and Kate right away. Maybe after practice today. But don’t forget, mum’s the word about Hashtag.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  “Emily,” Devin warned. “Over there!” The campus guard was standing by the entrance, surveying the cafeteria. His sole purpose in life was to narc on students who violated the school’s no-texting-on-campus rule.

  Emily slid her phone onto her lap, typing without looking at the screen. “Done! Now, what were we talking about before? Oh, yeah, special boys. Oooh, check it out, there’s a really special one heading in our direction.”

  Devin glanced up. A tall, lanky guy with black curls and broad shoulders was walking toward their table. Yeah, he’s definitely cute, Devin thought.

  “Mateo Torres. JV basketball team. Forward,” Emily whispered.

  “O-kay. Why are we whispering?” Devin asked, confused.

  “He probably wants to ask me to the Valentine’s Day dance. Watch and learn, Devin.” Emily sat up straight and tossed her hair over her shoulders. “Hey, Mateo,” she began in a singsong voice.

  Mateo stopped in front of their table. But he wasn’t looking at Emily. He was looking at Devin.

  “Hi, Emily. Hi… Devin, right?” Mateo said with a friendly smile.


  “Yeah. Hey.” Devin waved awkwardly.

  “You’re in my history class. I sit two rows over. Were you expecting that pop quiz this morning?” Mateo asked her. “I totally wasn’t.”

  “Me neither,” Devin admitted.

  “Hey, do you have a partner yet for the mock-trial project? Maybe we could work on it together,” Mateo suggested.

  Devin blinked. “Um, sure.”

  “Great! Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll text you?”

  “Um, sure.”

  Devin and Mateo traded numbers. Then he waved and took off.

  Emily grabbed Devin’s arm. “Do. You. Know. What. Just. Happened?” she said breathlessly.

  Devin shook her head, dazed.

  “You scored the hottest member of the JV basketball team!” Emily exclaimed.

  “What? No! I didn’t score anyone. I have a boyfriend,” Devin protested.

  “Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that,” Emily said with a wink.

  Devin frowned. Then smiled. Then frowned again. Cute guys didn’t just come up to her and ask her to do stuff with them. Even if it was only to work on a project for history class.

  Guilt washed over her. She shouldn’t be happy about receiving attention from another boy.

  What would Josh think?

  CHAPTER 4

  Kate adjusted the white ribbon on her long brown ponytail before spilling out onto the floor with the rest of the squad. It was Friday night, halftime at the JV basketball game, and they were about to run their Nationals routine. It was nearly identical to the routine they’d done at Regionals, which had originally been choreographed by Chloe and Devin. Since then, Coach Steele had hired a professional choreographer to tweak and refine their moves, especially the stunts.

  Kate blinked into the blindingly bright lights as she took her position along with the other girls. The Northside crowd roared. Kate loved their custom-made uniforms: bold blue shell tops and A-line skirts trimmed with white and gold, NORTHSIDE embroidered across their chests in big, loopy cursive.