I’m halfway through the first out of six parts—when I should be doing other homework—when Zephyr walks up, dropping dramatically into the neighboring recliner. I haven’t lifted my eyes from the book, reading the same sentence twice, when he slides a sheet of paper into my line of sight. It’s light green with large, hand-drawn block letters on it. “What’s this?” I ask, holding out the green sheet of paper, not bothering to read it, even though that would be the easiest solution. “Just read it,” Zephyr offers with a grin. A grin that kind of scares me. He has a look on his face that screams mischief but also this is for your own good and now I’m really worried. My eyes scan the sheet, taking in the words Idol and singing competition hoping that what I think he’s implying is wrong. Very, very wrong. “Our school is holding an Idol competition?” I ask with skepticism. This can’t, no, will not turn out well. “Continue,” he directs, rolling his finger in the air, begging me to read on.
