favorites. He’d sung it a thousand times at least, and as he opened his mouth his voice wrapped itself around the notes and words with hardly any effort at all.
The song had a rhythmic feel, like ocean waves on a summer afternoon. It didn’t push his range, but the chorus was high enough to let him shine. Zack looked beyond the judges while he sang, through the window and toward the deep blue over Atlanta.
Something happened while he sang, while the song played out. The judges began to smile. No one made a move to stop him or cut him off, and when he sang the last note, all three judges were clapping and Kelly Morgan was on her feet, bowing toward him.
“What in the world?” She laughed and did a little dance standing in place. She put her hands on the shoulders of her fellow judges. “Did you hear that boy?” She did a celebration shout and then pointed at the closest camera. “Listen up, America! You just met Zack Dylan! You can say you saw him here first.”
Zack’s heart raced. This was beyond what he had hoped or imagined. Kelly sat back down, but still the judges were laughing and shaking their heads. “Okay . . . all right.” Cullen slapped the table. “Bring it in. What are we going to do with Zack Dylan? Is he through to New York?”
“I’ll say yes.” Something in Chandra’s smile held a familiar depth. “You have a beautiful voice, Zack. If you’re careful, I think you can go far in this competition.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s a yes for me.” Cullen leaned back hard in his seat. “I’ll make the prediction right now. You’ll be one of the finalists. The ladies will love you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Zack Dylan.” Kelly grinned at him. She stood again and threw her hands in the air. “You’re through to New York!”
“Thank you.” Zack clasped his hands and looked up for a few seconds. “Thank you, very much.”
“Listen, bloke, I think someone wants a hug.” Cullen folded his arms, leaned back in his chair and chuckled.
Kelly ran carefully around the table. She was wearing what looked like five-inch heels. “Let all the girls know I was the first to get a hug from Zack Dylan!”
Zack hadn’t expected this. He had no choice but to go along with it, so he laughed and held open his arms as the two of them came together. Kelly pressed in close and whispered near his ear. “You’re a good sport. Don’t worry, I won’t do this every week.”
The hug ended before Zack could respond. Kelly pranced back to her spot. Zack waved once more and then collected the famous red invitation to New York from Samuel J. Meier. “Congratulations, Zack.”
“Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you will.” The show’s producer hesitated. “You’re a team player, right?”
A team player? Zack’s heart was racing, the floor still mostly liquid. “Yeah, definitely. Of course.”
Samuel Meier smiled. “Good. I thought so.” He nodded. “I think you’ll go far this season. I’m happy for you.” He pointed toward the back door. “Kip’ll talk to you out there.”
Zack was almost there when an older man with an air of importance and a fancy headset stepped out from the shadows. “Hold on!” He put his hand up, clearly listening to direction through the headset. “Kip says they’re not ready for you yet.”
Zack’s breathing came fast, and he could feel a fine layer of sweat at the top of his forehead. “Yes, sir.”
The man listened again and nodded slightly. “I’m on it.” He took a step closer to Zack, his voice low. “This is what you need to do. You’ll burst through the door holding the red ticket, hands raised.” He seemed rushed. “You’ll let out a shout or some victory cry. Then you’ll drop down and do your best Tebow-type prayer.”
A strange feeling came over him, starting at the back of his neck and working its way down his spine. “What?”
“Tebow.” Impatience marked the man’s features. “You know, drop to your knee. That thing.”
“That’s not how I pray.”
The man raised his eyebrows half an inch. “I don’t care how you pray, kid. That’s what we want for the show.”
Zack had seconds to make a decision. He hated when movie stars like Alec Baldwin mocked the pro football player. Zack respected Tim and everything he stood for. But to drop to one knee and do the Tebow just wasn’t him.
“Look, kid, praying is praying.” The man pointed at the door. “You believers want people to know you’re religious. So do the Tebow. You might have a few extra weeks to talk about God.”
There was no telling whether his anger or shock was greater in the moment, but Zack had to make a decision. And in the time it took for his heart to rattle off another few rapid beats, he decided. If Tebowing was how he could make a name for himself, the contestant with the strong faith, the Tim Tebow of
“They’re waiting.” The man stepped back, a scowl etched onto his cheeks. “Go!”
Zack stared at the door, held his breath and rushed for the other side. He did just as he was asked, milking the moment, the red ticket, the hands raised, the victory shout. Then he dropped to one knee and did the Tebow. He barely held the pose, and once he was back on his feet he hurried to Kip and the microphone.
“It’s official!” Kip patted Zack on the back, congratulating him. “Our first Tebowing contestant! Zack, you’re on to New York . . . just like Tebow, by the way! So how did it go in there?”
“God gets all the credit. I can’t believe I made it through!”
Kip motioned to the cameraman to cut. “Hey, so thanks, Zack. Way to go.” He took a clipboard from another assistant. He didn’t look up. “You’ll receive a packet from a table at the end of the hall. Your flight to LaGuardia will take off first thing in the morning.”
“Wow . . . so fast.”
“It’s always like that for the last group.” Kip smiled at him again. Already he was moving toward the hallway; the female assistant was walking toward them.
Zoey was at the girl’s side, long blond hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked ahead and spotted him. “Zack!” Her eyes lit up and she pointed at his red ticket. “You’re in! I knew it!” She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. Just as quickly she drew back and clapped her hands. A squeal came from her. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks.” He could see Kip watching from his place near the cameramen. He whispered something to one of them. Zack wanted to get out of there, but he couldn’t be rude. Not now. He turned to Zoey. “You’ll be perfect. The judges are great.”
She linked her arm through his and raked her free hand through her hair. “I’m so scared.”
“Don’t be.” With everyone watching, Zack couldn’t remember ever feeling more uncomfortable. He sidestepped her clutches and faced her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You belong here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kip come closer, his radar clearly up. “You two know each other?”
“Just from auditions.” Zack’s response came quickly. Already he felt like it had been a year since he said good-bye to Reese, since he held her in his arms. “We were in line together.”
“Hmm.” Kip stood between them. “I sense a little chemistry, am I right?”
“No.” Zack laughed and watched how his comment made Zoey’s face fall. “I mean, I have a girlfriend. Zoey and I . . . we’re friends. That’s it.”
“Yeah.” Zoey found her winning smile. She leaned in and kissed Zack on the cheek. “What he means is, if he didn’t have a girlfriend he’d be madly in love with me.”
Zack laughed and took a step back. “Crazy girl.” He fist-pumped her. How had he lost control? He pointed to the door. “Go kill it.” Only as he was leaving did he notice something that dropped his heart to the floor.
The cameras had been rolling the whole time. He had signed up for this, of course. He knew he was giving
