Chapter 18Break a Leg, Renny—Again.
The sign was back on the front of the band room door the week of my second audition. Some of my classmates congratulated me in words and in writing, assuming, I figured, that I was off for a callback instead of a second chance. The afternoon before my audition, I looked at the poster board. I studied it, read every signature old and new.
You got this. That one was new. It was tiny, written in red and signed W.
I knew.
The next morning, everything went to hell.
“Lucky Clover Taxi and Limousine Service, Rishi speaking.”
I was going to need all the luck I could get.
“Hi. I need a taxi to the train station.” Talking on the phone and simultaneously putting on socks took skill.
“I’m afraid the trains are not running at the moment.”
“What?” I fell off
