Free Fever Pitch by Heidi Cullinan Page A

school?”
    â€œBefore we moved, yeah.” Aaron tried not to fidget, but Nussenbaum was a laser beam, and he had so much energy he made Aaron jittery. “I was in a band too, but that never got anywhere.”
    â€œYou play piano, you sing and you were in a band—do you play any other instruments?”
    â€œKeyboard, piano and a little bit of bass guitar, but not well.”
    â€œExcellent. Are either of you music majors?”
    â€œI’m music education,” Jilly volunteered.
    â€œI don’t really know yet,” Aaron confessed.
    â€œEveryone is welcome in choir.” Nussenbaum rubbed his hands together. “All right. Shall we get started? Jillian first?”
    Jilly’s song was a stodgy piece that reminded Aaron of things people took to all-state competitions. He’d accompanied for those before he’d moved, and he found he missed this, playing for someone. He enjoyed filling in their spaces, being their ground floor. Jilly was good too—no Adele, but better than average. Aaron hoped she made it in.
    When her audition was over, Jilly took a seat. The room focused on Aaron.
    He cleared his throat and scooted back on the bench. “I was going to do a pop song, if that’s okay.”
    Dr. Nussenbaum’s smile didn’t waver. “That’s fine.”
    â€œWhat song?” This question came from J.Crew guy, and Aaron had to swallow before answering. The man had a deep, bell-like voice that did wicked things to Aaron’s insides.
    â€œI know two pretty well. ‘Lover to Lover’ by Florence + the Machine and ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ by Keane.”
    The guy’s eyebrows went up, but he smiled. “I’d love to hear the Keane.” He motioned to the piano. “Whenever you’re ready.”
    It only took a few bars of piano before Aaron’s nerves bled away. When he’d played this with the band, it was a different kind of accompaniment, but he’d taken to playing it in his room, filling in the missing instruments by ear with his voice piped in via a mic. It had been his therapy after the whole Tanner incident, until he’d stopped playing entirely once they moved. He threw himself into the song now, maybe belting a bit too much in the chorus. It felt so good to sing again. He hoped Jilly was right about the guys’ auditions, because while he sang, for the first time since he’d arrived, being at Saint Timothy felt okay.
    When he finished, he lowered his hands from the piano and faced his audience.
    They were staring at him.
    Aaron froze, uneasy, thinking he must have really sucked. He was trying to work out an apology when the guy with the sunglasses spoke. “Thank you, Aaron. Were you planning to audition for the Ambassadors as well?”
    Aaron’s cheeks heated. “Do you want me to sing the Florence song, or does it need to be something fancier?”
    â€œYour performance just now is more than enough,” the sunglasses guy said. Every word dripped with innuendo. The deep-voiced guy had been pleasant, but this guy, Aaron was pretty sure, cruised him. “If you’re interested in the Ambassadors, we’d love to have you.”
    They would? Aaron shifted nervously on his seat. “Okay. Thanks.”
    â€œThank you .” This came from Nussenbaum, who sat on the edge of his seat, regarding Aaron like a tiger eyeing prey. “You haven’t declared a major? Is anything in music on the table for you?”
    God, his dad would flip out . “I hadn’t thought much about anything, to be honest.”
    â€œStop by during my office tomorrow, and we’ll talk.” Nussenbaum eased back in his chair, as if everything were settled.
    â€œWe need to keep the auditions moving,” a girl beside Nussenbaum said.
    J.Crew guy rose, leading Jilly and Aaron to a door on the other side of the room. “You were great. Both of you.”
    â€œThanks.”