“And you probably spent all day practicing, right?”
“No, not today…”
“I didn’t think you could go longer than five minutes without playing guitar,” Jordan says as she grabs a package of hash browns from the freezer.
“Yeah, Maya not playing would be like if you didn’t sleep with your football for one night,” Sam teases.
“I’d rather not hear about your sleeping habits, thanks,” I say.
“Maya was out late last night,” Anna says in a sneaky tone. “That’s why she’s tired.”
“A date?” Jordan asks with hopeful eyes, and Sam gives her a death glare. Like I said, protective big brother.
“Tell everyone about the concert, Maya!” Mom drums her hands on the counter. “Sam and Jordan are going to love this.”
“It’s nothing,” I say quietly. I was so excited about the opportunity to spend time with a famous musician, but Jesse Scott is a certified country-boy ass.
“You won’t believe what Maya gets to do for shadow day,” Mom adds, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
Sam licks pancake batter off his thumb and makes a face. “Are you shadowing somebody at Middle C?” He means the shop where I buy sheet music.
“No…I’m shadowing Dr. Salter’s nephew.”
“Who’s his nephew?” Jordan asks.
“Jesse Scott!” Anna squeals.
Sam freezes in the middle of flipping a pancake, and it plops on the floor. Jordan stops stirring the eggs in the skillet. They look at each other, then at me, then at each other again.
“You’re shadowing Jesse Scott!” Jordan shouts.
“I don’t think so,” Sam says. “Dad, you’re allowing this?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Dad replies.
“Jesse Scott got drunk and fell off a boat,” Sam explains. “I saw it on TV. That kid’s a train wreck.”
“A hot train wreck!” Jordan exclaims, and Sam’s eyes might roll out of his head. “I want to come with you! Can I?”
“I’m not even sure if I want to go.”
“That’s crazy,” she replies. “This could be huge for you and your music.”
I ignore the mention of my music. They don’t know that I got kicked out of my own band, and I really don’t feel like facing a Sam and Jordan intervention.
“Jesse is kind of a jerk,” I say. “And when I went backstage to meet him, he called me a ‘sexy punk girl.’”
“You met him?” Jordan screams. She drops an egg on the floor, and it splatters everywhere.
Dad rips his eyes away from the scores. “What did that boy say to you?”
“I’ll kill him!” Sam says, and pancake batter joins the egg.
“Will you get his autograph for me?” Anna asks, and I tell her I’ll try.
“I love that song of his,” Jordan says, looking wistful. “‘Don’t Cry for Me, Tennessee.’”
“I hate that song,” Sam mutters. “Jordan sings it all damn day. I can’t get it out of my head.”
Jordan sighs dreamily. “Wow. I didn’t know Dr. Salter is related to Jesse Scott.”
I’m surprised that Jordan didn’t know either, considering she works for the principal. “Dr. Salter asked me not to tell other students—he probably doesn’t want girls storming his office every day,” I explain. “And Scott is Jesse’s stage name.”
“Makes sense. The name Salter isn’t near as sexy as Scott,” Jordan says.
“Can we stop talking about how sexy Jesse Scott is?” my brother asks.
“Can you stop watching Detroit games already?” Jordan asks back.
Brinner is officially a disaster. Half-cooked pancakes are splotched on the floor. I can smell the eggs burning.
“Maybe we should order pizza,” Dad mutters to me.
I whisper, “Mushrooms, please.”
“If Dr. Salter arranged for Maya to shadow Jesse Scott, I’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior,” Jordan says.
“The school planned a whole schedule,” Mom says. “Maya will be visiting Jesse’s studio, going to lunch with him, and doing some educational tours at the Country Music Hall of Fame. His manager will be there the whole time.”
“It sounds boring,” I add.
“I wish I could go,” Anna says, and Mom rubs her back. It probably would be more appropriate if Anna went, given that she’s ten and has a Jesse Scott screen saver.