"Won't you help to sing
"These songs of freedom.
"Cause all I ever had.
"Redemption songs.
"Those songs of freedom.
"Songs of freedom." I finished the masterpiece of a song written by the reggae equivalent of Jesus with an open G chord. I was answered with a roaring applause. Some people even stood. I smiled, and bowed carefully.
"Thank you." I said softly into the battered mic, and quickly unplugged my set. My best friend's grinning face was waiting for me backstage.
"You did Bob proud out there." said Jacob, giving me a rib-crushing bear hug.
"Can't breathe, Jake." I gasped, struggling to get free. He let me go, mumbling an apology. Jacob had recently gonethrough some crazy growth spurt, and still wasn't used to his large frame yet.
"So I did ok? I didn't sound like some white girl that thinks reggae is defined by No Doubt?" I asked, half joking.
"The dreads and the rasta flannel helped a little." He countered. I shook out my dreads in response, earning an "Ewww." from Jake.
"You sounded amazing, Bells. Like you've been living in Jamaica your whole life." He assured me. That made me feel great. It's hard to sing reggae and have people take you seriously here in Arizona.
"Good enough to win a high school talent show?" I asked.
"Good enough to win a Grammy." He replied. We waited for the last three acts to go, two dance crews and an opera singer. Finally, the teachers unlucky enough to be the judges of an amateur talent show. They deliberated for an agonizing five minutes, and finally, Mr. Piper announced the winners. "In third place, Furious Anarchy." A band of black and metal clad boys shouted and cheered. Inwardly I groaned. "In second place, Stacy Phillips." The girl who had performed an ballet routine that made my feet hurt just watching joined the wannabe death rockers onstage.
"Finally, in first place…." I squeezed Jacob's hand. "Isabella Swan." The audience cheered, and my eyed watered a little, I was so happy. I decided to fuck the stairs, and jumped onto the stage. Mr. Piper and my guitar teacher, Ms. Lynne handed me a $500 check and a cheesy plastic trophy. I was so proud of myself; nothing could ruin this for me.
I was wrong.