A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for reading and encouraging me to continue with your reviews, favorite, and following of this story…
Chapter 2 Sam
Nashville, Tennessee
December 8
"This is most definitely a bad idea." Cedes said as she clenched and unclenched her hands, her freshly manicured nails leaving half-moon marks in her palms.
Sam, standing beside her, let out a short laugh. "Are you serious? I have never had any bad ideas." He had a good seven inches on her, though less when she was in heels like she was right now. Still, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Don't you trust me, Sweet Cedes?" His tone was playful.
"Hell to the no," Cedes hissed in return.
Sam wasn't sure precisely what he had done to piss Cedes Jones off in the short time they'd known each other. He wasn't thrilled about being paired up with her, either. She seemed insecure, inexperienced, and instantly in hate with him. He wished she'd relax, because her feelings were awakening the stage fright Sam had suffered from ever since he was a kid.
Cedes shifted to put a wedge of space between them, absentmindedly tugging on the hem of her miniskirt, which was quite short and only hit mid-thigh.
"Stop fussing with your clothes. You look beautiful," Sam said. He stared straight ahead as he said it, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Cedes turn to look at him. His heart may have been beating like hummingbird wings, but he was skilled at hiding it behind his charming smile, which he now put on.
Sam's good looks were his suit of armor, and he reminded himself that's what people would notice. He worked to slow his racing heart, picturing himself doing the thing that had been an antidote to his stage fright and anxiety for years—sculpting. Hands on the clay, squishing, shaping, creating . . .
He imagined the clay, cool and smooth, feeling it softly in his hands as he finished shaping something, the feel of it as he held it in his hand molding it to be a creation of whatever struck his fancy. His mom had taught him how to do this with play doh after the time he froze onstage at age seven, forgetting his lines as Baby Bear in the elementary school's production of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. She had said it helped her back when she was performing, and sure enough, it had become his go-to stress reducer over the years along with his secret hobby of knitting that he learned from his grandmother. He kept his knitting a closely guarded secret, because he didn't really want to be known for it and seeing it in tabloids headlines that he was a secret knitting junkie.
Sam glanced at Cedes again, distracted by her tugging on her skirt. Wardrobe had her looking like all the other contemporary female artists; they thought women had to show skin to be considered sexy, so they had her outfitted in a the miniskirt that showcased her thick thighs and amazing ass and the sheer blouse unbuttoned over a halter top that skimmed her upper delicious curves. She wore it well, but Sam wasn't sure that she thought she could pull it off because she couldn't stop fidgeting from one foot to the next, practically toppling over in her mile-high heeled boots she was to wear on stage. He raised an eyebrow and avoided saying what he was really thinking.
"Why are you staring at me?" Cedes asked, turning her pretty brown eyes on him. He hadn't been feeding her a line when he said she looked beautiful. But she was also so self conscious that he was relieved today was a "one and done" for the two of them, and then he would be free to perform as a solo artist for the rest of the show.
"What's the matter?" Cedes asked him. Her nerves getting more frazzled. A slight sheen of sweat covered her forehead.
Man, she looks as nervous as a sinner in a church service."Not a darn thing, tiny dancer."
Cedes looked like she had more to say, but then Will Schuester came up behind them. Sam watched as Will brushed Cedes's long braids off her bare, chocolate shoulder, his fingers lingering on the material of barely there shirt, but he didn't say anything. It was none of his business, really, if something extra was happening between Cedes and Will.
It was against the show's rules, of course, but that hadn't stopped past judges and show contestants from getting intimate. Besides, this was Nashville. Anything could happen here in the pursuit of "making it" in the business. However, he hoped Cedes would keep her wits about her. One of them blowing it could mean the end of the road for the other as well.
"How are we feeling?" Will asked, coming to stand in front of them.
"Just fine." Sam gave Will a confident smile and tucked his hands into his jean pockets. "We're really ready thanks to your coaching yesterday."
Sam may not have been Will's biggest fan, but thanks to Tana's recent reminder about the hitmaker producer, he knew he had to play his part and suck up to the jerk as needed.
"Glad to hear it. You guys nailed that last take, and if you do it just like that, you have a great shot—both of you—for making it through as individuals," Will said.
Will turned to Cedes. "Are you okay, darling?"
She nodded, and Sam watched as Cedes set her shoulders back a hair. She was talented, there was no question. But it took more than that to make it in this business.
Sam was well-versed in the backstories of musicians like Cedes Jones, having met many over the years. She had probably ended up here after hundreds of small gigs in bars, likely putting everything else in her life on hold—and being willing to do almost anything—while she chased this tantalizing dream.
Sam understood deep down that he wasn't in a position to be so callous about chasing dreams. He had waltzed onto the show because of name recognition—a draw to pull in viewers, as his father's fans were still heartbroken at his impending retirement. The show's producers wanted to boost ratings, and they felt Sam Evans could be their golden ticket.
"Okay, Sam, Cedes, you're up," Will said to the pair. "Remember. This could be the most important song you're ever going to sing. Stick to the plan, and make us believe you're already the stars I know you are."
As soon as Will left backstage, with go-time only moments away, Sam reached for Cedes' hand. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked, pulling away.
She had a wildness in her eyes, and gave him a look that suggested he take a step back, now.
"Giving them what they want. Which is a good show." Then he reached for her hand again, but this time he did it more gently, allowing his fingers to slowly intertwine with hers. They walked onstage, hand in hand, to where Sam's guitar and two mics waited for them. The Christmas decorations had been moved offstage for their performance, leaving only sheets of hanging twinkle lights behind them.
"Can we get a stool out here?" Sam asked, shielding his eyes against the spotlights. The song Sam and Cedes had been assigned was probably the most covered country duet of all time—"Islands in the Stream." The arrangement Will had suggested was only a hair above a cheesy karaoke version of the song, which was precisely why Sam had told Cedes he had a new idea for the song only minutes before they were scheduled to perform.
A stool appeared onstage, and Sam set it behind one of the mics. Then he shortened the microphone stand so it was at Cedes' height when she was seated.
"Relax," he said, covering her mic with his hand. "And smile, okay?"
"Don't tell me what to do," Cedes sung whispered. But she took deep breaths and smiled as he requested.
"All set?" Will asked, the other judges looking on somewhat impatiently.
Cedes nodded, and Sam picked up his guitar. "We've made a bit of a change," he said into the mic. Then he started strumming the guitar strings, softly, giving his fingers time to warm up and his heartbeat time to slow. Picking the guitar strings felt similar to having clay in his hand, and taking a moment before starting the song helped him relax. You've got this, Sammy boy.
Will looked at Sam curiously, then shrugged as the other judges glanced over at him, eyebrows raised.
The first bars of the song came over the speakers and Cedes waved a hand. Then she leaned into her microphone and said, "No music, thanks. We're doing this acoustic." She smiled at Sam, and it didn't reach her eyes even though he was the only one who would see that.
Sam strummed the guitar, the familiar chords filling the soundstage, which were soon matched by his voice—deep and smooth as he delivered the first line of the song, keeping his eyes on Cedes. He may have suffered from stage fright, but he felt weirdly calm performing with Cedes. It was like looking her made him forget his nerves. He was able to get lost in the song.
Cedes casually tapped her hand against her thigh as she swayed slightly on the stool to the rhythm of the song, smiling right back at Sam. Singing Dolly's part just like Whitney Houston would if she remade this song just like Whitney sung Dolly's song "I Will Always Love You."
They sang the song slowly to one another, the guitar chords the only accompaniment to their voices, which were perfectly matched. The effect was magical—their chemistry undeniable. Even Will seemed enchanted by the performance when Sam glanced at him. The three other judges sat up a little straighter in their chairs and Sam knew they had them precisely where they needed them.
At one point Cedes got off the stool and took her mic off the stand while Sam sang his part. Then she walked slowly over to where Sam stood and ran a hand down his arm while she sang to him. Sam was, despite himself, mesmerized by Cedes—and he leaned toward her, their voices rising as they reached the crescendo.
The judges were blown away. Darius, who had been in every type of musical genre and found success, said it was the most original version of the song he'd ever seen performed, and that they were meant to be together. Maybe even off the stage, too, Quinn, the beautiful-thin bottle-blond judge (who had won American Idol five years prior), added, with a wicked grin. Of course, it would ultimately be up to the viewers to decide Sam and Cedes' fate. The following week, when this performance aired, viewers could vote for their favorites by texting the number that had been assigned to each duet.
Cedes smiled shyly, and then without hesitation reached out to hold Sam's hand again. He was surprised, but didn't show it. Instead, he grinned at her, then kissed her hand. Cedes managed to make it seem like it was a welcome gesture.
But as they walked backstage, away from the microphones and judges, she said, "You were a bit pitchy at the end there. I hope that doesn't get me eliminated." They were on their way to the green room for their post show interviews, to be aired alongside the performance for the viewers next week, so they were alone.
"I was not pitchy. I am never pitchy." Sam frowned, running a hand through his hair. He knew the performance, including his part, had been flawless. Thanks to his idea to strip everything back to just their voices and his guitar. The least she could do was thank him for his brilliant idea.
Cedes reached for the green room's door handle, gave Sam a withering look, and said, "I guess we'll see, won't we?"
Sam Evans and Cedes Jones . . .
Their "Islands in the Stream" cover BROKE THE INTERNET last week!
Up until last night, the last thing anyone needed was another season of America's Newest Star, even with Sam Evans and Tana Lopez on board . . . but that was before #Samcedes. If you don't know what we're talking about, crawl out from under the rock you've been living under for the past 24 hours and scroll down for a video of the most sizzling performance in the show's history.
In keeping with the America's Newest Star been-there-done-that vibe of late, Sam Evans—yes, that Evans, son of the legendary Dwight, whose voice can cause panties to drop from coast to coast—and Cedes Jones took the stage for Duet Week to do a cover of "Islands in the Stream."
But y'all, this was no karaoke performance. Sam and Cedes performing together created pure electricity. With Sam strumming away on his guitar (can we be jealous of a guitar?), and Cedes' voice—that VOICE!—coming out of the microphone, it was clear something special was going on. Even if these two didn't have talent to spare, it would have been a white-hot performance because of the way he looked at her (like she was a glass of water to a man in a desert) and the way she looked at him (like he was the sexiest man alive, which, let's face it, might well be true).
Needless to say, in our opinion they smashed Duet Week, but more importantly, they won the hearts (and more than a few libidos) of the country, and a fan base who want only one thing: more #Samcedes!
If America's Newest Star is smart, they'll give us a repeat performance. Now, for the big question: Are they really crushing on each other, or is it all for show? Is romance blossoming, right before our very eyes? Either way, we reckon most of North America would now pay to watch #Samcedes sing the alphabet song together . . .
Cedes
Nashville, Tennessee
December 8
As Cedes packed up for the day in her dressing room, she had to pick off bits of red and green glitter that had been dusted over the set by an enthusiastic intern tasked with making everything look "Christmassy." She was almost finished when her phone rang. It was Lauren Zizes Puckerman, her manager.
"Have you looked at Twitter and Instagram? I swear, you two broke the internet when that duet aired. This was Brilliant. It's a holiday season miracle!"
Cedes put Lauren on speaker and opened her social media accounts. "One hundred thousand followers in one day," was all she could say.
"The Samcedes hashtag is trending! This is amazing. And I believe the words you were looking for were, 'I have been trending and over a million people have seen that video of my duet."
Cedes smiled. When Lauren had first signed Cedes she had told her it was because she was thick, talented, and sweet as candy and would be eaten alive by the industry if she didn't take her—but what really got her was that when Mercedes performed live with a voice like the richest dark chocolate and gave her chil lbumps down her back that let her know that Ms. Jones was a star.
Cedes opened the Twitter app on her phone and stared down at it:
Christmas is coming up! Can Sam and Cedes please do a Christmas song duet next, America's Newest Star!? #AllIWantForChristmas #MakeOurWishComeTrue #SamcedesForever
I want to come back reincarnated as Sam the moment Cedes reached out and casually ran her tiny hands up and down his arm. Who knew "Islands in the Stream" could be so sexy? #Samcedes #CountryR&Bswirl
The America's Newest Star account had tweeted a video of Sam and Cedes singing their song, and it had been retweeted one hundred thousand times in the past hour. The number rose as she watched.
"Sweetie? Are you still there?"
"Hell yeah. I'm here, Lauren."
"Listen, I'm on my way. The producers of the show called, and they want a meeting with us, the show executives, and judges." Cedes' heart lifted. "And Sam and his reps, too." And then, sank. "See you soon, okay, Little Sister?"
"You mean big sister, I am five months older than you,," Cedes answered her.
"But I am seven inches taller than you and can bench press you, so I still insist on being the big sister in our sisterhood."
"Whatever Lauren, I guess I will be seeing you soon."
"You can bet the ten percent that you pay me that it will be sooner than you think."
Cedes read a few more excited tweets before logging out of the application. Her grandma had texted her a whole bunch of dynamite emojis, but even the fact that her granny had figured out emojis wasn't enough to shake her out of the darkness of the premonition she was having. Everyone thought she and Sam had this magical fairy dust thing going on. Was she the only one who felt they weren't heading anywhere good with this publicity?
Their meeting took place in one of the boardrooms on the other side of the studio—far away from the prying eyes of the main stage cameras. Even though she could take a break from having to worry about how her hair looked or if her skirt was riding up her behind, her heart was barreling away from her like a Amtrak train heading out of town. She and Lauren were across the table from Sam and his manager, April, the studio executives at one end of the table, and the judges—Will, Tana, Quinn, and Darius—at the other.
"Shall we dive right in?" Roz Washington, the network's director of unscripted programming, said, leaning forward and smiling first at Sam, then Cedes.
Cedes pasted on a return smile and kept her sweaty hands clasped in front of her, hoping she wasn't about to dive into shark-infested waters. She looked down and noticed a nail was chipped. She looked up and saw Sam watching her, eyebrows raised as if to say, We're in an important meeting with the America's Newest Star executives and you're thinking about your nails? She resisted the urge to make a face at him and turned her full attention to what Roz was saying.
"The online sensation you two caused with your duet is unprecedented, even for America's Newest Star—and we've made our share of splashes in the world."
Cedes could feel a "but" coming on. She held her breath for it.
"But, as you both know, we are coming up to our double elimination round. On the next episode we shoot, contestants will be expected to engage in America's Newest Star Battle Rounds—and two people will be sent home, rather than just one."
It hung in the air, the idea of being sent home. Cedes didn't know what to do, so she smiled.
"We know all this," Lauren said, in her customary brusque tone.
"Exactly," April added. "So why have you called us in here to discuss it?"
"We'd like to offer Sam and Cedes both immunity during double elimination," Roz said. Cedes waited to feel better, but didn't. Because there was another "but." She just knew it.
"But . . ." There it was. "You'd have to agree to pair up permanently. To continue the competition as a duo. As Samcedes."
Cedes felt a wave of nausea almost overtake her. She looked away from Roz, directly into Sam's eyes. He looked just as disgusted as she felt.
Cedes braced herself for one more "but."
"But, you have to understand . . . What's being offered to you is unheard of. And, some might say, not exactly fair. The rules are being changed for you two, and the consequence is—"
Consequence? Now when Cedes' eyes met Sam's they shared a twin look of alarm. They hadn't done anything wrong, so why were they getting a consequence?
"—that if you don't agree to stay on as"—Roz cleared her throat, as if she realized how ridiculous it was—"as Samcedes . . . one of you has to leave."
"What? Why?" Cedes' voice sounded strangled. This wasn't in the rules!
"Now, hey," Will drawled. "This seems a bit unnecessary. Cedes is a talent in her own right—"
"As is Sam," April chimed in, her voice tight.
"Right, right, they both are. None of this seems quite fair, really."
"Will," Roz said. "You of all people know we have some work to do when it comes to ratings. And surely you've seen the online demands. Samcedes is what our viewers want."
Will shot Cedes a helpless look. "Yes, ma'am. I understand. Sometimes you just have to give the people what they want."
While Cedes was disappointed there didn't seem to be anything anyone could do about this pairing she was facing with Sam, she was grateful to Will for at least trying to go to bat for her—and for saying she was talented. She watched as Will rubbed his hand across his eyes for a moment, like he was very tired—and recalled he was having issues with his third wife Rachel Berry who was a contestant on the show but didn't want to sing country music and was now on Broadway.. It was nice of him to be concerned about her, when he clearly had problems of his own.
"We do realize this is an unusual arrangement," Roz went on. "But we have a separate contract with Sam Evans. And it stipulates that he is not to be eliminated until the final round." She glanced at Cedes. "This is the kind of privileged information you signed an NDA not to reveal, don't you forget," she said. Cedes couldn't do anything but nod as Roz continued, her intense gaze holding Cedes's. "The reality is that if you don't agree to continue on together, it is very likely you'll be the one sent home, Cedes."
Cedes had gone through so many emotions in the past minute she felt like she had whiplash—and the place her heart settled on now was frustration. The odds were stacked against her. She was not an Evans, and didn't have some magical contract. So all she could do was sit here and do what she was told.
But it was all just so unfair.
She felt a tear making its way down her cheek. Cedes had vowed that if she ever got voted off America's Newest Star she was not going to cry—but this was before she had realized she had less of a chance of winning than some of the other contestants, simply because of who she was. Life's not fair, Cedes. You already know this. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders—and saw that Sam was watching her closely.
She had expected to see him looking self-satisfied—but he didn't. He looked into her eyes for a long moment and it felt like time stopped, like they were the only people in the room. It felt the way it did when they sang together. Her heart was still racing, but for a different reason now.
"Fine," Sam said, breaking her gaze and standing up from the table. "We'll perform together as"—he swallowed repeatedly, trying to get it out—"as Samcedes. Is that all you wanted to talk about?"
Before anyone could answer, Sam strode out of the boardroom, and April followed in his path. Out in the hall, Cedes could hear Mason's voice, asking Sam if he needed anything.
"Thank you," Cedes said to no one in particular, feeling out of her depth.
"You're welcome, doll," Will replied, with another one of those kind, concerned smiles. But Cedes couldn't bring herself to return it as Lauren led her from the room. Her mood sank even further when she saw Sam and April waiting for them in the hallway. April had her arm linked through Sam's and was holding tight, as if he might take off running down the hall otherwise. And Sam's scowl was even deeper than usual.
"Come on, you two," April said to Cedes and Lauren. "Let's go find somewhere to have that chat we discussed." She shot Lauren a meaningful look, then led the way further down the hall.
Once they found an empty meeting room, Lauren closed the door behind them and stood by Cedes' side.
"Okay, here goes," April began. "We feel that if you two really lean into this pair-up—as in, convince the world you're in love, act like a couple on set and in public—you'll be America's newest sweethearts in no time. You are the epitome of opposites attract. The relationship that nobody saw coming which would be considered implausible except for the power of music which drew you two to each other. It will be like the showmances on all those other reality tv shows that creates fans, fandoms, and make you all a ratings and social media goldmine."
Cedes glanced at Sam and saw his brow furrow.
"How are we supposed to do that, we don't even—" She had been about to say like each other, but she was interrupted mid sentence by Lauren's not-so-subtle elbow nudge.
"It just makes sense to do this," Lauren added. "The rumor on the set is you're sleeping together anyway. Why fight it? Owning it means you will win this competition hands down through viewers' votes alone."
Cedes looked at Sam again to see how he was reacting to this—but he was staring down at his cowboy boots like they somehow contained the meaning of life in their etchings. Cedes felt her throat go dry. She opened her mouth to protest—but found she couldn't do it because she really wanted to win.
Finally, Sam returned her gaze. And she saw it in his eyes. He wanted to win, too. "What do you think, Cedes?" he said, his tone devoid of emotion.
"I'm not sure. I mean, we don't really know each other."
"Sam, you know this sort of thing happens all the time," April said. "That show business is full of fake relationships as a publicity stunt." She turned to Cedes. "It's really no big deal. It's make-believe. And the PR payoff would be astronomical."
Cedes closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. Sam was frowning at his boots again—but he was her shot. This was her shot. She'd be a fool to say anything but yes. So, "I'll do it," she answered.
Sam scowled. "So will I," he seconded. "Now, are we done here? I have someplace I need to be."
"Wait!" April said, pulling out her phone. "Sam, take Cedes in your arms. Come on, just do it."
Sam sighed, then stepped close and put his hands on her hips—but rolled his eyes as he did it, while Cedes gritted her teeth. Her heart was fluttering, though, probably because standing this close to Sam reminded her of being onstage.
"Now, Cedes, look up at him like you're about to kiss him. Lean close. Come on, make it look like you don't know I'm here, and—" As soon as she snapped a photo Sam released Cedes like she was a hot potato. "Perfect. Now I have to go 'leak' this to the press!"
Sam ran a hand through his hair and turned to Cedes, a grimace on his handsome face. It was the day after their meeting and they were in a rehearsal room planning their duet—or, more accurately, arguing about it.
"Ain't no way, I am singing that song with you."
"Come on, Sam—"
"No. They may be forcing us to be together, but I abhor that song, I refuse to sing it."
" 'Forcing us'? That's not quite how I remember it. We agreed to this, Sam. Can you at least pretend to make an effort?"
"Thanks to that photo, the Samcedes hashtag is trending. What more do you want from me?"
Cedes sighed and forced herself to take a few calming breaths. "Let's just settle on a song, okay? And please, not 'Silent Night,' performed in the tired style of Johnny Cash, with you staring moodily into the middle distance while I gaze at you and hum along."
"Johnny Cash's style is never, ever tired," Sam said tersely. He put his head down and strummed his guitar, and even the notes sounded defensive. There were plenty of rumors about who the guitar had belonged to, including his own music legend father, but Sam was tight-lipped about its origins. However, he treated it almost as well as he treated McConaughey—who was currently being walked around the parking lot by Mason—so Cedes suspected the guitar carried as much pedigree as Sam himself did. He stopped strumming and ran a hand through his hair again. Somehow, it managed to fall perfectly back into place—whereas every time Cedes left Hair and Makeup she had to force herself not to touch her long, thick waves that had replaced her braids even once, or she'd wreck the style. She had never had so much mousse on hair before. It did turn her curls into waves but her hair was more product than all the abundant hair on her head she thought as she watched Sam.
His full pouty lips set in a perma-scowl as he paced the small room. How was it possible that she had such great onstage chemistry with this man? She supposed it was because chemistry was just that: mix chemical A with chemical B and watch reaction C happen. But just because you could mix baking soda with vinegar and watch it erupt into a volcano did not mean that baking soda was in love with vinegar. In fact, it could mean the opposite.
"Okay, fine, what about 'Mary Did You Know'?" Sam said.
Cedes laughed at him, she couldn't help it. "There is absolutely nothing sexy about singing about the Mother of Jesus!"
He stopped pacing and spun around. "Why does everything have to be sexy? Can you not pretend to be serious about music for one second?"
Her eyes widened. "I am always serious about music!"
He maintained the I-am-a-true-artist-and-you-are-just-wasting-my-time expression she was beginning to seriously despise, and took a long look at her, letting his eyes sweep up and down her body and the revealing outfit Kurt had put her in, again. "Coulda fooled me, sweetheart."
Cedes felt suddenly off-kilter. It was the fact that he wore too much cologne, she decided. "Sam, please just listen to me for one second." She looked up at him and sang the opening lines of "Mistletoe," the Justin Beiber and Mary J. Blige duet she was advocating for.
His expression changed almost immediately. He started to sing along with her, almost as if he couldn't help himself. At first he refused to look at her, but that was almost better. She closed her eyes and focused on the way their voices blended together and complemented one another perfectly—then opened her eyes to find him watching her, an inscrutable expression on his face. She felt like she was caught in an electrical current. Instead of fighting it, she allowed the now-powerful connection between them into her voice.
She could still smell his cologne, a masculine, spicy scent she didn't exactly hate at that moment, as well as his cinnamon-gum-scented breath. She was grateful she had rubbed her skin with her own shea and cocoa butter cream earlier and doubled up on the mouthwash. She sang a line about kissing underneath the mistletoe, and he bent his head toward hers to sing his line, as if drawn toward her by a magnet. Then . . .
There was a knock at the door and Jesse St. James swaggered in, wearing a Christmas-themed tie covered in flashing lights. He was followed closely by Will, who took in Sam and Cedes standing so close with what Cedes thought for a moment might have been a disappointed look. To her surprise, Sam pulled her closer. It made sense, she supposed—they were meant to be pretending to be a couple. But she had to work to make it look as natural as it had felt a moment before. "Hi there!" she chirped.
"Hey, Miss Cedes." Will tipped an imaginary hat. "Sam."
"Hey, lovebirds!" Jesse crooned. "I signed up for this room, and you're officially"—he tapped his oversized gold watch—"taking up my time."
Sam scowled. And even though Cedes knew the judges took turns with contestants and it wasn't their week with Will, she felt a surge of jealousy. Jesse was their biggest competition, and was breathing down their neck in viewer votes. He was as close to winning this thing as they were. Closer, because it now seemed Will was dedicating himself to mentoring him.
"We're all done here," Cedes said, pasting on a smile.
Jesse clapped his hands together as he sat down on a couch in the corner of the room and said, "Alright, Will, let's do this"
Just then Will caught Cedes' gaze. It was almost imperceptible, but he rolled his eyes, and Cedes had to force down a chuckle.
Then she noticed the expression on Sam's face as he watched Jesse and Will settle in on the couch, clearly about to have a serious discussion about whatever Jesse's next winning move should be. The only way to describe Sam's facial expression now was one of pure envy. And all this gave Cedes pause. He really did want this, for reasons she could not figure out. Sam Evans, son of the great Dwight Evans, seemed as intent on winning America's Newest Star as she was. And while everyone else seemed to roll out an imaginary red carpet anytime Sam came anywhere near, Will—arguably the most influential member of the America's Newest Star team—barely gave him the time of day.
Cedes tugged the sleeve of Sam's denim jacket and murmured, "Let's go," but she could tell what Sam wished for most was to be sitting where Jesse St. James was.