I didn't need to worry. I swear I woke up every hour to check on the time. When morning came, I pulled myself out of bed feeling more exhausted then when I'd laid down.

Still I rushed around getting ready, doing my scales as I did. I threw on a pair of faded jeans and a Cougars sweatshirt. I was not about to walk into the auditorium wearing my sparkly outfit. Professionals, I was sure, changed when they got there.

Mom called at 8:15 in the morning to wish me luck. I walked into the garage at 8:30 to put my stuff in the trunk and found out that Adrian had taken the car. I especially appreciated this since Adrian wasn't supposed to drive anywhere and she knew I needed the car to get to Beasley coliseum on campus for the auditions. I called her cell phone. She didn't answer. Then I called Molly in a panic, but luckily they hadn't left yet and could swing by and pick me up. By 8:55 we walked up to the registration desk. We were supposed to be there by 8:45 even though auditions didn't start until nine.

The lady at the desk didn't seem to notice or care that we were late. She didn't even ask to see proof that Molly and Polly were students in good standing, something we were prepared to do with a phone call to the school's guidance counselor. She just handed me a packet of information and a large white tag that read #63, then had me check off my group's name on her list.

About a hundred names filled the roster. I didn't recognize a lot of them. They must be kids from Moscow and other neighboring towns. After we'd finished signing stuff, she told us to wait outside in the hallway for our number to be called.

"But we're sixty-third in line?" I asked. "So how long will it be until they call us?"

She gave me a cold stare, like I should already know, or at least like it was impertinent to ask. "The average audition is three minutes, but sometimes it goes much faster and if you miss your call, that's it. We won't audition you later. That's why we ask that all of the contestants stay in the hallway and not leave the premises."

"Thanks." I turned away, mentally doing the math.

Molly had it figured out before I did. "About three hours," she said. "It's a good thing I brought a book."

Three hours? Why had they told us to be here so early, and why hadn't I thought to bring something, anything to do?

I recognized several kids from Pullman milling around in the hallway—some in regular clothes, some decked out like rock stars, but I didn't see Rick. As a professional, apparently he already knew that you didn't have to be here on time.

It would have served him right if he had been the first up, but no, while a thin man with a goatee welcomed us to auditions and gave us directions, I looked around and found the first ten contestants. They'd already pinned their numbers to their shirts. After goatee guy had finished emphasizing that we needed to get on and off stage as quickly as possible, he took the first ten contestants backstage to wait in the wings.

Molly, Polly, and I found a corner and went over our routine a few times. Then there was nothing else to do but wait and listen to the strains of music floating into the hallway.

I hadn't realized when the registration lady told me that the auditions averaged three minutes, what she meant was that if the judges didn't like you, they only gave you about thirty seconds to sing. If they liked you, they let you go on for a minute or two. The extra minute was spent ushering people on and off the stage. I learned this from the contestants who straggled back into the hallway, and told us in varying degrees of worry, how far they'd gotten into their song.

"I've been practicing my routine for a month. My whole family came out to see me, and I didn't even make it to the chorus," one girl said. "It was totally unfair."

"See," I whispered to Polly like this was a good thing, "It will be over so fast, your nose won't have time to bleed."

I heard Rick before I saw him. His voice carried down the hallway in a clipped rhythm. "Well, isn't it just convenient then, that you were there to lug my equipment around."

"I didn't do it," Tanner said. I recognized his voice too. In fact my heart paused for several seconds at the sound of it. Something that shouldn't happen.

I heard the sound of footsteps and knew Rick and Tanner were about to round the corner. "I told you I wouldn't sing the song," Rick said. "But that wasn't enough, was it?"

"I didn't do it," Tanner said again.

And then they were walking toward the rest of us. Rick carried his guitar case in one hand while clutching a paper that read eighty-six. Tanner carried a boom box. Neither one saw me, and I knew I ought to turn my gaze to something else and pretend I didn't see them either. But I couldn't keep my eyes off of Tanner. Dark hair, square jaw, piercing blue eyes . . . I'd stop staring at him in a second. In another second. In another second.

He turned and caught my eye. I looked back at Polly, who was watching me with one eyebrow lifted. "Aren't you going to go say hi to him?" she whispered.

I hadn't told anyone about my phone call with Tanner last night. I just shook my head and tried to maintain a normal heart beat. Tanner's presence shouldn't fluster me. I'd just keep looking at Polly. He'd be gone in a second.

"Chelsea." His voice made me jump. I hadn't heard him walk over, but he stood beside me, still holding the boom box. Rick glared at me but followed him over.

I plastered on a smile. "Hi, Tanner." Then through gritted teeth I added, "Rick."

Tanner shifted the boom box under one of his arms. His gaze trained in on mine, and there was a tightness about his eyes. "Rick woke up this morning to find the air let out of the tires on his and my parents' cars. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Surprise kept me from answering right away. I mean, sure my friends had talked about it, but I didn't think they'd do it. And how had they gotten inside of Rick's garage anyway?

I shrugged in Rick's direction. "I don't know, have never known, and never want to know anything about the air pressure in your cars' tires."

His head moved, like he wasn't sure whether to nod or shake his head, and he held out a finger in my direction. "I didn't put anything in your stupid duffel bags."

"Then we both have clean consciences, don't we?"

Tanner stepped between us. "Great. I'm glad you guys got a chance to straighten that out. Where do you want me to put your stuff, Richard?"

"Anywhere." Rick broke off from glaring at me to take in his surroundings. He waved to a place further down the hallway. "How about there."

Without another word, Tanner walked over and set the boom box down by the wall. Rick turned back to me. "I'm going to guard my stuff now, but in case you're wondering, I've got my guitar, my boom box, three CDs of background music"—he patted his jacket pocket—"and my iPod with speakers. There is no way you can sabotage my song."

I smiled back at him. "Has anyone told you that you're paranoid?"

"I'm prepared. Are you?" Rick sent me one last scowl and went off to guard his stuff.

Molly and Polly peered after him. "I think he has issues," Molly said.

"Should we have brought extra CDs of our backup music?" Polly asked, and her voice had the beginnings of panic.

"He's just trying to psyche us out," I said. "Besides, I have an extra copy of our background music in with my clothes." After all, I hadn't sung an a cappella duet with Mrs. Jones and learned nothing.