problem set and plopped the pages onto a sprawling mound of papers. My desk was a mess, but what else was new? I woke my computer up and started scanning my playlists.
“I hate to interrupt your productivity streak, but I need you to listen to this,” I said. “I’m thinking of singing this at the audition on Wednesday.” I clicked on “Moonshine Lullaby” from
Annie Get Your Gun
. Bernadette Peters’s voice floated into the room, rich and slow.
Jimmy closed his eyes and placed his history book over his chest.
I tried to imagine how the song would sound with just piano accompaniment and with my voice (which isn’t terrible, but I’m no Bernadette).
As the final notes rolled to a stop, Jimmy murmured, “You put me in your bed, make me do homework, and then you play this song. Are you
trying
to put me to sleep?”
“Sit up!” I said, giving the bed a kick. Unfortunately, I only jostled the mattress a little.
“Oh, sure, now you’re going to rock me?” Jimmy said, giggling.
“I’m serious—no sleeping! Are you saying the song is way too boring?”
“No, it’s slow, but it’s nice. It’s perfect. Do you have sheet music for it?” Jimmy sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, they had
Annie Get Your Gun
at the library—they have a surprising amount of musicals there. What are you auditioning with?” To be quite honest, I was still surprised that Jimmy planned to audition on Wednesday.
“Oh, I don’t know. Is ‘Happy Birthday’ good enough?” he asked.
“Oh, come on. You’ll never get a part if you don’t even try,” I said. I scrolled through my playlist. “How about . . . I know! ‘More I Cannot Wish You’ from
Guys and Dolls
! It sounds like ‘Moonshine’—here.” I clicked on it.
Jimmy gave me a doubtful look. “You want me to sound like I’m eighty years old?”
“Well, it’ll be easier to put your own personal stamp on it, now, won’t it?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll stamp on whatever I end up singing.”
“Ha-ha.” I scrolled down the list of songs again. “Hmm . . . how about . . .
this
one?” I clicked on “Putting It Together” from
Sunday in the Park with George
.
Jimmy rolled his eyes as the song began. “Waaaay too complicated.”
“Well, it’s Sondheim, just like
Into the Woods
.”
He didn’t respond, just flipped absently through the pages of his history book.
“So you had a good time on Saturday, right?” he asked.
I kept scrolling through my list. “Yeah, of course! Didn’t you?” This one was too high for Jimmy’s voice. This one, too fast. Too operatic. Too girly . . .
“Yeah. Derek’s brother is good people. What do you think of Oliver?”
“Oliver? He’s nice! And super-cute, to boot.” I looked up at Jimmy. “You know, I like Derek’s friends, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Jimmy smiled dreamily. “Yeah, he does have good friends, doesn’t he?”
“So what’s with Kirby and the two boyfriends?”
“Five.”
“What?
Five
boyfriends?”
“He hasn’t met any of them, though. They’re all long-distance, online relationships. But he’s working the odds, assuming that most of them are catfishing or having lots of other relationships, too.”
“I guess it’s pretty hard to meet gay guys our age around here, huh?”
“Lucky me!” Jimmy said, grinning so wide it looked painful.
“Yeah, yeah, lucky you,” I grumbled. “Ooooh, how about this?” I clicked on Ella Fitzgerald’s version of “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.” “I don’t know what show it’s from, but I’m sure you could find the sheet music for it.”
But eight seconds into it, I clicked it off. “OK, maybe not.”
Not that Jimmy heard it; he was busy doodling a heartmotif on his history notebook, lost in his thoughts. Geez Louise, why was everyone around me so lovesick all of a sudden? What about
me
? Whom did
I
have to swoon over?
I pulled a Twix bar out of my bottom desk drawer—I’d been saving it for a
“I hate to interrupt your productivity streak, but I need you to listen to this,” I said. “I’m thinking of singing this at the audition on Wednesday.” I clicked on “Moonshine Lullaby” from
Annie Get Your Gun
. Bernadette Peters’s voice floated into the room, rich and slow.
Jimmy closed his eyes and placed his history book over his chest.
I tried to imagine how the song would sound with just piano accompaniment and with my voice (which isn’t terrible, but I’m no Bernadette).
As the final notes rolled to a stop, Jimmy murmured, “You put me in your bed, make me do homework, and then you play this song. Are you
trying
to put me to sleep?”
“Sit up!” I said, giving the bed a kick. Unfortunately, I only jostled the mattress a little.
“Oh, sure, now you’re going to rock me?” Jimmy said, giggling.
“I’m serious—no sleeping! Are you saying the song is way too boring?”
“No, it’s slow, but it’s nice. It’s perfect. Do you have sheet music for it?” Jimmy sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, they had
Annie Get Your Gun
at the library—they have a surprising amount of musicals there. What are you auditioning with?” To be quite honest, I was still surprised that Jimmy planned to audition on Wednesday.
“Oh, I don’t know. Is ‘Happy Birthday’ good enough?” he asked.
“Oh, come on. You’ll never get a part if you don’t even try,” I said. I scrolled through my playlist. “How about . . . I know! ‘More I Cannot Wish You’ from
Guys and Dolls
! It sounds like ‘Moonshine’—here.” I clicked on it.
Jimmy gave me a doubtful look. “You want me to sound like I’m eighty years old?”
“Well, it’ll be easier to put your own personal stamp on it, now, won’t it?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll stamp on whatever I end up singing.”
“Ha-ha.” I scrolled down the list of songs again. “Hmm . . . how about . . .
this
one?” I clicked on “Putting It Together” from
Sunday in the Park with George
.
Jimmy rolled his eyes as the song began. “Waaaay too complicated.”
“Well, it’s Sondheim, just like
Into the Woods
.”
He didn’t respond, just flipped absently through the pages of his history book.
“So you had a good time on Saturday, right?” he asked.
I kept scrolling through my list. “Yeah, of course! Didn’t you?” This one was too high for Jimmy’s voice. This one, too fast. Too operatic. Too girly . . .
“Yeah. Derek’s brother is good people. What do you think of Oliver?”
“Oliver? He’s nice! And super-cute, to boot.” I looked up at Jimmy. “You know, I like Derek’s friends, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Jimmy smiled dreamily. “Yeah, he does have good friends, doesn’t he?”
“So what’s with Kirby and the two boyfriends?”
“Five.”
“What?
Five
boyfriends?”
“He hasn’t met any of them, though. They’re all long-distance, online relationships. But he’s working the odds, assuming that most of them are catfishing or having lots of other relationships, too.”
“I guess it’s pretty hard to meet gay guys our age around here, huh?”
“Lucky me!” Jimmy said, grinning so wide it looked painful.
“Yeah, yeah, lucky you,” I grumbled. “Ooooh, how about this?” I clicked on Ella Fitzgerald’s version of “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.” “I don’t know what show it’s from, but I’m sure you could find the sheet music for it.”
But eight seconds into it, I clicked it off. “OK, maybe not.”
Not that Jimmy heard it; he was busy doodling a heartmotif on his history notebook, lost in his thoughts. Geez Louise, why was everyone around me so lovesick all of a sudden? What about
me
? Whom did
I
have to swoon over?
I pulled a Twix bar out of my bottom desk drawer—I’d been saving it for a
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