Tracy's POV

I'm glad the surgery went well. I must anxiously wait until the doctor gives me the okay to sing again. Till then, I'm on strict vocal rest. Tomorrow I have my first appointment with the vocal therapist in Reefside to help me strengthen my vocal cords. I spent the weekend in Silver Hills, and today Wes is reminded that I'm not a morning person, as he wakes me up before sunrise to drive back to Reefside. I roll and pick up the new phone that Wes's dad gave me as a 'graduation' gift. I only got it because it was smarter than the one I currently had and had an app I could use to communicate while recovering. I'm still learning to type on the tiny keys, but I'm glad I'm a quick learner with technology.

"Wes, you know, I don't function before sunrise. I'm going back to bed," my phone says as I set it back on the end table.

I lie back down, but Wes pulls the covers away and sets them on the floor.

"Nice try, but a surprise is waiting for you in the kitchen. Please get dressed," Wes says.

I nod and try not to groan. Dr. Calhoun told me I'm not allowed to talk, clear my throat, whisper, or cough (if I can avoid it, that is.) I pick my glasses off the end table, put them on then get dressed for school. I put my new phone in my purse, then take it and my bookbag off the hook on the wall near the door before heading downstairs to the kitchen. I do my best not to let out a happy shout after seeing Mike standing next to Mr. Collins. After I dropped my things and the shock wore off, I calmly went over to him. He kisses me on the cheek, picks me up, and spins me around before setting me back down.

"Morning, angel, and thanks for keeping this a secret, Wes," Mike says.

"You're welcome," Wes says.

"Tracy, your father dropped this off. He said you should open it ASAP," Mr. Collins says, handing me a letter from Michigan State University.

My left hand begins to tremble. I'm nervous this could be a fake letter again, but as I reach for it, I notice the labels are perfectly aligned, and my name is spelled correctly. I mouth thank you as I pick a letter opener, slide it under the top of the envelope, and run it across.

"I know getting a letter from college can be nerve-racking but did Tracy just mouth thank you?" Wes asks.

"Grant and his Jerkterage mailed Tracy several fake letters before, so she had to ensure that this one was real," Mike says.

I smile, hearing Mike use the nickname I gave Grant and his crew as I take the letter out, and it reads:

Dear Ms. Burlew,

We are pleased to inform you of your admission to the Bachelor of Music in Performance program for the Michigan State College of Music fall semester of 2004-2005. We congratulate you on your academic achievement. You have every reason to feel proud of the capabilities and aspirations that led you to Michigan State. I'd also like to inform you that the athletic department would like to offer you a scholarship to play softball; it will be worth $10,000.

Enclosed with your college acceptance letter, you will find a detailed document about the college and the next steps of admission. Make sure to submit your original academic records, your three latest passport-size photographs, and the first installment of the semester tuition to the admission office by July 30 to complete the admission process.

Again, the entire Michigan State University staff welcomes you and wishes you all the best for continued success. We look forward to seeing you at our college on September 2, 2004.

I do my best to keep a poker face to help me fight the urge to jump and shout for joy.

"Angel, I take it from the fact you're trying to shout for joy. You got in?" Mike asks.

I nod, and Mike picks me up and spins me around again. This time he does it so fast that it makes me feel sick.

"Mike, I know you are happy for her, but she looks like she's about to throw up," Wes says.

Mike sets me down and apologizes. I give him a small smile after shaking off the dizzy spell, telling him I wasn't mad. I knew he was happy for me. Then I put the letter back in the envelope, Phillips (the butler) hands me my things, and I put the letter in my purse and hang it and my bookbag over my chair leg. I sit down to eat breakfast, and Mike and I head outside and sit on the front step.

I type something on my phone and hit enter. I'm still shocked when the voice coming from my phone sounds nearly identical to mine.

"Mike, have you heard from the schools you applied to?" my phone says.

"Yes, I haven't picked a school yet. I'll have to find a college close to Michigan State since my heart hates even being several blocks away from you," Mike says.

I give him a peck on the cheek before giving a friendly punch on the shoulder to relay that I'm flattered by his cute remark. While he recovers, I type something else on my phone.

"Mikey, I don't want to say goodbye after graduation, but we may not have a choice. Right now, it would be best to focus on helping the others deal with Mesogog," My phone says as I do my best not to get emotional.

Philip's POV

I clear my throat, and the young couple stand up and turn around, "I hate to interrupt this conversation, but I will drive you to Mike's house so you two can head to school in his car,"

"Yeah, my car is still in the shop," Mike says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thank you for the ride to Reefside, Philips, but I could have driven myself." Tracy's phone says.

"I'm sorry, Miss Tracy, but your father says you can get bouts of road rage and aren't allowed to use your voice," I say.

I see Tracy roll her eyes and quickly type a rebuttal " I think dad is confusing me with himself. I never get mad while I'm driving,"

"But, if Master MIke cannot drive, I'll just drive you two love birds to school," I smirk.

"Please don't call us that," Mike says as he sets his hand on Tracy's wrist to stop her from typing.

Tracy's POV

Even though the drive from Silver Hills to Reefside isn't that long, I must have dozed off. I feel Mike gently nudge me to wake me. I rub my eyes to see that we are at school.

"Have a nice day at school," Phillips says.

I pick up my things,  and Mike and I get out of the car and walk over to Dr. O's jeep.

"If Tracy isn't allowed to talk, why isn't she at home resting?" Trent says.

"Trent, she can still rest her voice and use other ways to communicate that don't evolve her speaking," Mike says.

"Yeah, Trent, text-to-speech applications were invented for this kind of thing," Ethan says.

"So, how long do you have to go without talking?" Conner asks.

"A week, then she can talk using her normal tone, but she can't strain it," Mike says.

"How long till you can sing again?" Kira asks.

I take out a notepad to conserve my phone battery, write down my answer, and hand it to her, "At five weeks, I can start doing simple warm-ups, then after 6 weeks, my voice should be well enough to try to rehearse/perform/sing."  

"Six weeks is a long wait, but we'll be right here to help till then, right guys," Kira says.

"You bet," Ethan says.

"Totally," Trent says.

"Sure," Conner adds.

"Of course, that's what being a team means," Mike says.

The warning bell rings, and we head inside; Mike and I stop by our lockers before heading to class. I have my new phone on top of my notepad that I'll use to talk if the phone dies any time thought-out the day. Cassidy walks up to us as soon as we enter the room and instantly tries to interview me. She shoves, her voice recorded up to my mouth.

"Dang, Cassidy, there is a thing called personal space, and Tracy can't answer your questions even if she wants to. She's on strict vocal rest," Mike says as he gently pushes her away from me.

I look at Mike and crack a small smile before we go to our seats and sit down. After Dr. O's class ends, I have two class periods to work on term papers for my other classes since I can't talk. Music class was a huge no, and the same for Gym since running around was a no-go. Mike meets me at my locker, and we walk to lunch.

"So, what are you allowed to eat?" Mike asks.

"Only soft foods for the next few days," my phone says.

We get in line, and I smile when the lunch lady hands me a tray with Risotto, roasted carrots, and a mango banana smoothie.

"Here you go. Your doctor emailed the school and mentioned your dietary restrictions for the next few days. I'm going to be making them myself, so they'll be delicious and may even help speed up the healing process, too," the lunch lady says.

"Thank you, ma'am. I know my girlfriend wants to be able to sing in time for the senior award night," Mike says, taking his tray.

Mike pays for lunch, and we head to the cafeteria and sit down with the gang. I remain calm as Zoey walks up to us, "Hey, I can't believe it. She's milking the sympathy cow," Zoey says, noticing that I have different food on my tray than everyone else.

"Amber, that's not what's happening at all. Her doctor emailed the school," Mike says.

"Why don't you just leave her alone," Ethan says.

"Yeah, she got enough on her mind as it is," Trent adds.

Grant is about to pick up my smoothie to pour it on my head when we hear, "Zoey Sophia Bueno, put the smoothie back where it belongs on the tray right now, young lady," the lunch lady says as she walks over to us.

"Aww, Aunt Alaina, I wasn't going to do anything, I swear," Zoey groans.

"Nice try, young lady, but if you don't want the cafeteria to learn the nickname I called you when you were little, I suggest you sit down at your table with your friends," Alaina says.

I type something on my phone and hit enter, "Wow, she played the embarrassing nickname card nicely done,"

"Thank you, and you won't have to worry about my niece bothering you or any other students. Her mother called me and asked me to work here until graduation to ensure that she behaves," Alaina says.

I'm glad that Alania is here to help keep Zoey in line. Now all I have to worry about is Prom, graduation, saving the city from Messogog once I talk again, and getting everything I need to send to Michigan State.

We finish eating and head to our next class. My heart thumps inside my chest as Zoey walks up and slams me against the locker near us. I can't scream out in pain, but my right shoulder did start to hurt after she slammed me against it several times. My things make a clattering sound as they fall to the floor. I try to be brave but realize I'm helpless since I can't call for help without damaging my vocal cords. Zoey smirks as she makes a first with her other hand. I close my eye and prepare for the pain when she punches me in the stomach. I hear the sound of it getting blocked and slowly open my eyes and expect to see Dr. O standing next to me. But it's Eric.

"Excuse me, young lady, I may have just started an hour ago, but I know physically harming another student is an offense that is punishable by suspension," Eric says as he pushes Zoey away.

"Yes, my partner is right. I suggest you go back to class before you also get in trouble for being in the halls without a pass," Wes adds as he walks up.

I reach over to pick up my phone, but I can't move my arm too far before the pain makes me feel dizzy, and I have to quickly learn back to shake off the dizzy spell. The last thing I remember before I faint was Wes telling me I would be okay.