(18) And The Winner Is . . .
RING!
It was lunchtime again.
Jack was more than a little excited to continue the singing competition. He was confident that he'd win. After all, he used to be the head of the choir at his old school. Since he came here, however, he has had too little time to try out for the choir, let alone attend practices. Anxiously wringing his hands, he made his way down to the cafeteria with his friends.
'You'll do great, Jack,' Fred said. 'Those other chaps don't stand a chance!'
'Yeah,' Terry agreed. 'No one can beat our boy Jack.'
'Yeah . . .' Lee echoed nonchalantly. 'Say, Jack, could I speak with you for a moment?'
Noting the serious tone in his friend's voice, Jack agreed and allowed the others to wander ahead before them.
'What's up?' he asked.
'Look, I know all about your feelings and stuff for Ralph, but I have a little favour to ask of you.'
'Go on,' Jack said, slightly wary now.
'Well, you see, one of my pals just broke up with his girlfriend of eight months. Now he wants to, you know, "search the market" as it is.'
'Meaning he wants to see what it's like to be with a guy,' Jack analyzed, already knowing what was coming. 'The answer is "no", Lee.'
'Come on, buddy!' Lee practically begged. 'He knows about your history and is willing to pay. He's pretty loaded, too.'
'How much are we talking about?' Jack mentally scolded himself for wavering even the slightest. 'I mean, no! This is probably just some scheme of yours to win the bet.'
'Haven't I told you? The bet means nothing to me now,' Lee said earnestly. 'If you want to know the truth, I suck at betting.'
"Nah, really?" Jack thought sarcastically.
'I'm out of cash, man,' Lee continued. 'If you do . . . it with him, I'll get about three hundred bucks, and you'll receive five hundred. Jack, I need that money to pay off some of my gambling debts! Or else . . .' He inhaled deeply. 'Or else JD's crew is going to come after me.'
Jack suddenly understood Lee's urgency. True, JD was not exactly liked amongst the students of the school, but he ahd some very . . . powerful friends, "powerful" in the violent sense, that is.
'Well, I can't help you, Lee,' the teen said.
'Will you at least think about it?' Lee pleaded. 'Here's his cell number,' and he produced a small card from his back pocket. 'He says he's free today. Come on, man, we're friends and I wouldn't be asking this favour from you unless I really needed it.'
Jack casually pocketed the card and entered the cafeteria, attempting to shrug off the gravity of his friend's situation. He found himself entering said location amidst a chanted, "Jack! Jack! Jack!" Laughing slightly, he made his way to the other contestants. Not surprisingly, the top three participants had been himself, Alexander Smith (head of the choir, if you recall), and Eddy.
Alex appeared particularly nervous. Unlike Jack, losing a hundred bucks would be of little significance to him. However, he was rather worried about his title as the head of the school choir. What kind of image would emerge if Jack Merridew—the school slut—bested him? Eddy, however, was quite the opposite. He was a ray of sunny happiness among clouds of grey. He cared more about showing off than about what people actually thought of him.
'Good luck,' Jack said before taking a seat beside Alex.
'Not that I'll need it,' Eddy scoffed.
Just then and not a moment too soon, for Jack was fighting the urge to jump Eddy then and there (a feat that would surely disqualify him), JD bounced onto the podium with a broad grin on his face.
'Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to the final segment of our karaoke competition! As you all know, our top finalists are Edward Johnson, Alexander Smith, and Jack Merridew!'
He waited for the ecstatic cheers to subside before he continued.
'This competition has raised almost two thousand dollars, most of which will be going to our new student lounge!'
More applause.
'Yes, well done! Financially, the bets are running as followed . . . Eddy: 457 . . . Alex: 532 . . . and Jack: a whopping 1005!'
Yet more applause.
'For the final judgment, the topmost members of the student council—myself included—as well as some members of the faculty will do the honours.'
Glancing around the room, Jack saw some of his teachers lingering along the walls, as well as others who knew him primarily by reputation. Jack felt his hopes crash down in an instant when he saw Lyori and Penting standing there as well. His chances of winning had completely dissipated.
'Hey, man, you okay?' Greg asked from nearby.
Jack was anything but okay; his pale face was evidence enough.
'And now, without further ado,' JD said, 'I shall let Mrs. Wynta introduce our first contestant.' He stepped down from the platform.
'Thank you, JD,' Mrs. Wynta said. 'For those of you who have forgotten, I will remind you what the prizes are. The money betted on the winner will go to that winner, and there will be a raffle later this week for those of you who betted correctly. I guess that means Jack better not win or the chances for you guys who betted for him would be rather slim, though still more than those who betted for the others!' She playfully winked at Jack. 'Well, let's have our first competitor, shall we? Mr. Johnson, if you please.'
So self-assured, Eddy bounded onto the stage. After requesting—no, demanding—a song from Greg, he started to burst out the tunes enthusiastically.
"He's murdering that song," Jack thought, flinching as Eddy (supposedly) sang "The World's Greatest" by R. Kelly 1.
'If anybody asks you who I am
Just stand up tall
Look 'em in the face and say
I'm that star up in
the sky
I'm that mountain peak up high
Hey, I made it
I'm the world's greatest
And I'm that little bit of hope
When my back's against the ropes
I can feel it
I'm the world's greatest.'
"Typical," Jack inwardly scoffed. "Of course Eddy would choose that song. After all, it's entitled, 'The World's Greatest'." Rolling his eyes, Jack allowed his mind to wander . . . uh, rather, he allowed his eyes to wander to . . . somebody.
Ralph seemed almost as bored (if not more so) as he was. His eyelids drooped and his mouth appeared to be slightly open.
"And what a beautiful mouth it is."
As if he had sensed the other teen's gaze, Ralph suddenly focused on Jack. He gave the latter a small smile. Then he glared pointedly at Eddy as if to say, "Is this the worst singing you've ever heard or what?"
Jack returned the smile. It took some effort on his behalf, however, as his nerves were getting worked up by the irritable presence of two certain teachers.
Ralph winked and mouthed, 'You'll do fine.'
Swallowing nervously, the other teen nodded and returned his attention to Eddy. An eternity seemed to pass before the song finally ended. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as Eddy was "escorted" (a.k.a. shoved) off the stage by JD. The former grumpily returned to his seat, disappointed to have his spotlight taken away from him so promptly.
'Very well done, Mr. Johnson,' Mrs. Wynta said to Eddy, taking her place beside the student council prime minister. She gave him a gracious smile, thankful that he had "escorted" the contestant off the platform so quickly. Although she had the reputation of being the nicest and most patient teacher in the school, she would prefer not to have this competition running any longer than necessary. After all, she did have other responsibilities as a member of the faculty.
'Thanks, Miss!' Eddy called out in reply.
'Okay, everyone, let's give a nice round of applause to Edward Johnson for his . . . interesting performance.'
The audience clapped rather half-heartedly and many of them had noticeable smirks on their faces from Eddy's whore-like dance. The "talented" teen somehow managed to make that beautiful song into a strip tease.
'Now, allow me to introduce our second competitor—Jack Merridew!'
Jack's eyes widened. He was sure that he would be the last one to perform. Why else would they have wanted him to sit on the other side of Alex? Didn't it make sense that they would perform in their seated order?
"Man, this school is fucked!" Jack cursed as he made his way onto the stage. It was unlike him to be so nervous, and now he was starting to doubt if the presense of his most loathed teachers had anything to do with it. Lyori and Penting had always breathed down his neck before, so why would this moment be so different?
'Hey, Jack, you all right?' Greg asked concernedly.
'Fine,' Jack replied. 'Damn fine.' He couldn't be any less so.
"Because Ralph is watching me," he decided. "He's watching me with such hope in his eyes, hope and excitement that I'll win this competition for him . . . I want to. Fuck, do I want to. But this is only the beginning. What will he expect from me next? Worse yet, what if I can't meet his expectations? In the past, I have made him suffer so much . . . can I bear to put him down again? Damn the two-edged sword of love."
'Are you sure you're okay?' Greg inquired again. 'You still haven't told me what song you want, and I've asked you twice already.'
'You have?' Jack questioned, supposing he had been too deep in thought to notice. 'Sorry about that . . . Can you play "I want to spend my lifetime loving you" by Marc Anthony and Tina Arena?'
'Sure.' The other teen looked up the song on his list and popped the appropriate CD into the player.
'Thanks.' Jack shakily stepped up to the microphone and focused on the screen before him. Almost immediately, the words began to appear. He opened up his soul and sang . . .
'Moon so bright
Night so fine
Keep your heart
Here with mine
Life's a dream
We are dreaming.' 2
"We are dreaming?" Jack's mind scoffed. "Some dream. This is more like a fucking nightmare! How can we be together if I'll be so afraid of disappointing him? I don't want to hurt him again . . . but pain is as inevitable as the setting of the sun."
-
Ralph could tell that something was wrong with Jack. It was evident in the other's not-so-confident stature and the silght quiver in his voice. The latter finished his performance a few moments later with a slight bow to his audience. He spared Ralph naught but a quick glance before returning to his seat; even in that narrow space of time, Ralph saw the anxiety warring within him.
Jack's performance had—admittedly—not been his best and for the first time, Ralph feared that he would lose. Singing was something Jack excelled at, and losing this competition (seemingly useless though it was) would surely break him.
"Please let Jack be okay," Ralph silently begged, not knowing to whom his plea was directed.
'Thank you for your wonderful performance, Mr. Merridew!' Mrs. Wynta said amidst a rally of cheers; Ralph had been too deep in thought to notice. 'And now, for our final contestant . . . Let's give a round of applause for our very own Alexander Smith, leader of the school choir!'
Slightly embarrassed, Alex stepped onto the stage. He began his performance but a moment later, singing "That's What Friends Are For" by Dionne Warwick.
'And I
Never thought I'd feel this way
And as far as I'm concerned
I'm glad I got this chance to say
That I do believe I love you
And if
I should ever go away
Well then close your eyes and try
To feel the way we do today
And then if you can remember.' 3
Even Ralph found himself swaying slightly to the soft tones of his voice.
"He wasn't made the head of the choir for nothing," the teen found himself thinking, and immediately scolded himself for it. "You're rooting for Jack, remember? Not some arrogant rich boy who thinks himself to be above others! It's not Jack's fault he lives in the ghettos . . . Wait, that's not fair. Jack has tried his best to rise above that, even though he didn't do it in the most noble of ways. His reputation as a slut is behind him now. He wants only me . . . right?"
Fuck, now Ralph was starting to have doubts.
'Keep smiling
Keep shining
Knowing you can always count on me
For sure
That's what friend's are for,' Alex was singing.
In a way, his words were like a cruel mockery to Ralph's thoughts.
"Love isn't something that we should lightly jump into. I have to talk to Jack . . . I'll do it after the competition is over," he decided. "Yes, the sooner we talk, the better."
-
This was it. The moment they had all been waiting for.
Jack nervously shifted in his seat to get a better view of the judges, who were quietly conversing at the other side of the cafeteria. More than a few times, one of the students would try to inch his way over to hear what they were saying. None of them were lucky, however, for he was always caught by either Lyori or Penting and given a detention slip.
Typical.
What seemed like hours passed and Jack's hands grew moist with sweat. What was taking them so long? Finally, the group separated and Mrs. Wynta stepped onto the stage. Her face was neutral, devoid of any emotion.
'After much deliberation,' she began, 'the other judges and myself have decided who the winner is for this karaoke competition.'
The audience held their breath; one would be able to slice through the room's tension with a knife.
'And the winner is . . .'
"Come on, say my name," Jack silently urged. "Say I won . . . If I win this contest, my reputation as the school slut—as a nobody!—will vanish forever."
Time seemed to move in slow motion. An eternity passed before Mrs. Wynta announced, 'Alexander Smith.'
Jack paled; he felt as if his entire world had crashed down around him. He blankly watched as Alexander stepped up to accept the title of "winner", Jack's title. Alex didn't need the money as much as Jack did. He came from what others like to call "old money". He never had to work for his fortune; it was simply inherited. Jack, however, had to work for his own money. Now, because of his new relationship with Ralph and with his fear of hurting him, he did not know how that would come about.
He wasn't listening as Mrs. Wynta announced that all those students who had betted on Alex were to return to the cafeteria after school for the raffle. Instead, he was extracting a certain card from his pocket.
'Hey, Jack, are you all right?' Ralph asked, hurrying over to him.
Jack hastily concealed the card from view.
'Yeah,' he replied a little too quickly; he was unable to meet his companion's gaze. 'I just . . . I just need to be alone for a while.'
'Jack, we need to talk,' the other teen said, grasping his sleeve.
'Not now,' Jack insisted, shrugging his hand away and standing from his seat.
'Jack . . .'
Without meaning to, Jack looked up at Ralph. The heartbreak in the other's eyes was too much to bear, and Jack almost found himself break down with emotion.
'I . . . I have to go Ralph. I'm sorry.' He once again turned to leave.
'Do you think I'm attractive, Jack?'
The question was so sentimental that it caught Jack off guard.
'What?'
'Do you think I'm attractive?' Ralph repeated impatiently.
Jack remained silent. He was in such dire need of physical release from his tension that he did the only thing he could do—he pushed Ralph away.
'No.'
The other's face blanched slightly.
'Am I in your heart?'
'No.'
'Do you like me at all?'
'No.'
'Would . . . would you cry if I walked away forever?' Ralph stuttered. 4
'No, Ralph. It appears some of us are not as "attached" as others,' Jack said coldly. As he watched Ralph stumble away, he knew that his hit could not have been more direct. He hoped that Ralph would ater forgive him for this, that he would simply chalk it up to a bad mood. Only time would tell . . .
Sighing softly, Jack left the cafeteria (all too painfully aware of the piercing gazes sent his way) and made his way to the payphones. He popped a quarter into the slot and dialled the number on the card.
'I'm so sorry, Ralph,' he whispered.
The phone rang three times before anyone picked up.
'It's me,' Jack said. 'What time are you free?'