Chapter Fifteen
Scarlett chose Sunday night, two weeks after the Warming for her wedding. This gives my family less than three weeks to pull everything together.
Before I can think about the upcoming wedding, I have to get through this week. My responsibilities will be yanking me in a few hundred directions.
The first drama/musical performance dates are always arranged around the semester’s only Thursday night football game. This annual, weeklong commotion is labelled spirit and alumni week.
Virtually all of the university’s biggest donors will be in town for the next seven days. The chancellor begins spirit week by hosting an elaborate wine and cheese mixer in the school’s atrium, exclusively for them to mingle. That happens tonight. The rest of the week is filled with events designed to impress the wealthy, in hopes they will write a check to fund one of the college programs.
I didn’t have a scheduling conflict when I entered my squad in this week’s competition. Normally, I can rearrange my plans, get ahead in my classes or delay a due date or three to make these seven hectic days work, comfortably.
This spirit week might prove to be more than I can handle. No amount of rearranging can get me out of anything. My family can’t channel a solution for me either. They are tied up getting ready for parties, the wedding and vacations.
The big rival football game can’t disappear from the schedule on Thursday. There are numerous variables to consider and no way, short of the Creator taking action, to not have it.
The musical can’t vanish from the events’ list either. One musical opening scheduled for Tuesday night is exclusively presented for the potential donors. The second opening on Friday night is for the general public. We also have an encore performance on Saturday night because the theater can only hold so many. Friday’s opening night has been sold out since the first week of school.
My cheerleading competition actually starts on Tuesday and goes through Wednesday. I can’t be in two places at one time, so I chose the last slot on Wednesday. Regionals are being held three hours away. My squad gave up most of their summer to work on two new routines. We have to step up our stunts and delivery if we want to win nationals, again. The other cheerleading squads have scrutinized our first place routine from last season and will be prepared to beat us on that level. So, we have to get inventive and work harder if we want to make it to nationals, much less remain contenders.
I had a grueling and intense four hour, cheerleading practice during the early afternoon. Then, I showered in the locker room and rushed across campus with Jarron. He would chaperone me during my dress rehearsal. I accidentally ripped the seam of my costume before I made it to the stage. So, I would have to rehearse without it.
My gypsy fashion is already eye-catching. But, I stuck out like a sore thumb practicing in my street gear while everyone else was wearing stage clothes.
I had ordered a stack of pizzas for pick-up. Jarron had to make three trips to the car to get them all. Although I couldn’t be sure, I think the young guy behind the counter was purposefully procrastinating. He didn’t offer to help Jarron because he claimed his cash register was messing up. However, he made no attempt to fix it while he was flirting with me.
My time is limited. Jarron could sense how aggravated I was getting. So, he did his duty by escorting me to the car while he took care of the bill. Miraculously, the cash register resumed functioning and we headed back to campus. We carried pizza and soft drinks into the most secluded classroom in the gym.
The squad had been preparing jerseys’ and signs for Thursday’s big game while Jarron and I were at my rehearsal. They were almost finished by the time I got started on mine.
Before I dismissed them, I did something unexpected. I called off tomorrow’s practice. They seemed concerned by my outlandish decision.
“We’re taking the final timeslot on Wednesday. So, that means we can pound out a same day practice…” I said and they cheered.
After I perfected my jersey, I locked everything in a cabinet, behind a gated fence and double bolted the door.
Slammed on Tuesday, I didn’t have any available time to think. But, I did happen to notice Audrey’s cousin, driving around campus. I tried to phone her several times, but my calls went straight to voicemail.
Worried about her disappearance, I left class early to swing by her new house. She wasn’t there. Her roommate pointed down the hall and shrugged when I asked to leave a note for her in her bedroom. He wasn’t even friendly to Jarron and that’s highly unusual.
The few boxes Audrey had brought with her are still sealed with tape. There are no sheets on the bed and it looks like her clothes were still packed away, too.
“When was the last time you saw Audrey?” I questioned her roommate when I came back out.
“Who?” he asked.
“Audrey…you know, the girl that rents that room,” I replied.
“I’ve never met her…Baynard, have you seen the new girl?” he yelled down the hallway.
“I’m not her parent, dude!”
“We don’t really hang out together. But, you left her that note. She’ll call you…” he offered before he walked out of the room, leaving us standing alone.
My thoughts kept drifting to Audrey. It looked like she was using her room for storage instead of living in it. So, I broke a land-speed record to swing by the Java Den before going to the theater.
Price told me Audrey quit after that rocking party on the D.C. Strip. She didn’t even work a notice. I was stunned, but I didn’t have a spare second to find out from him why she might do something that ludicrous.
Anxious that maybe her cousin had kidnapped her and forced her to go home I paced in my dressing room. The curtain goes up in fifteen minutes, but I can’t shake my uneasiness.
“Jarron, I need you to meet me at my sorority at 5:00…” I whispered to him.
He looked at me like I just lost my mind.
“Five, in the morning??” he responded.
“Yes! I’m gonna try to track down Audrey…”
“You got it. I’m sure she’s fine. Let’s try to say the same thing about you…there’s that trivial matter of a packed audience waiting to be serenaded by you,” he softly, reminded me with a wink.
The show amazingly, went off without a hitch.
The vice chancellor requested that the entire cast come to a post-show reception and rub elbows with the contributors. Fearing it would turn into a frat party, he told us we are not allowed to bring dates.
Professor Marcus accepted for all of us without bothering to obtain our input. My family responsibilities come first, always. I can’t go to any party without being accompanied because I am being watched by my extended family on Momma-C’s side.
“Unless Jarron can escort me, I’ll have to decline…” I whispered to my drama teacher after I pulled him aside.
“What?? You can’t decline! You’re the star…they’ll be expecting you,” he informed me.
“I don’t mind going, hob-knobbing and talking us up to get contributions. I know the dramatics program could use the funds. But, without Jarron attached to my arm during the event, you’ll have to count me out. He’s not my boyfriend. So, technically he’s not my date. He goes where I go…sorry…”
My drama teacher was stuck in the middle. He debated with me for a while longer. I didn’t provide him with a reason Jarron had to be there, but he finally understood it was a lost cause. He reluctantly agreed to let him go with me.
But, Professor Marcus stuck to me like a prison warden. He was defying the vice chancellor’s explicit instructions by granting me an exception. It made him severely nervous…he must not be a rebel.
Grabbing the bull by the horns, I made my way over to the vice chancellor and his wife. I introduced Jarron as my formal escort and dramatic assistant. Then, I thanked them for allowing me to bring him. Before he or his wife could respond, I excused
us to mingle with our guests.
Jarron was struggling to contain his laughter. He knew I had just manipulated the system. But, I cannot afford to have one of the Reigns’ clan crash this party and abduct me. Plus, Professor Marcus doesn’t plan on leaving my side. It almost appears as though we are on a date. Short of rudely commanding him to leave me alone, I knew I would be stuck with his company for the evening.
Flanked by two males did not make mingling an easy task. But, I still managed to wrangle some funding for the drama department. Making my way around the room, I bumped into Senator Harring and his wife, Maggie.
Lyle was standing with his parents. He had his arm around a tall, ultra-thin black headed, brown eyed beauty that could have popped off the cover of Vogue. He’s moved on, already – oh yes! My heart lifted as I suppressed the desire to perform a happy dance.
I made another mental note to corner the football coaches, soon and tell them Stick is safe from offing himself over losing me. Then, I plan to ask them for their advice on how to keep the next football player, if I can actually land another one. I stifled the resulting giggle from my impish plan.
“Senator, it is such a pleasure to see you again. And, Mrs. Harring you look as stunning as ever…” I commented.
He hugged me like I was his long lost cousin and his wife coldly shook my hand. It was a strange twist on social protocols. But then again, he is a back-stabbing, baby-kissing politician and she is the stoic pillar of supremacy behind the man.
The campus newspaper snapped photos as I made the necessary introductions. Professor Marcus was slightly flustered and Jarron wordlessly shook their hands.
I stopped when I reached Lyle. Waiting for him to introduce his date, I shifted my weight. He gave me a one-armed, bro-type hug and complimented my performance. But, that introduction never took place. His lady friend turned a bright shade of red, not knowing what to do. Several awkward minutes ticked by while she searched the interesting ceiling, being excluded from our conversation.
“I apologize for my inattention…you are?” I asked, finally acknowledging the pink elephant.
“Hi, I’m Paris Langley…I’m here with Lyle,” she said, offering her hand to shake.
Lyle still refused to pick up the social ball and run with it. He never removed his arm from around her, but he never stopped semi-glaring at me. This scene continued on its bizarre trajectory, so I finally offered an excuse to leave.
The senator would stop me by “asking” me to dance. His version of an invite was to grab me by the arm, lead me away from everyone else and then say, “…let’s cut a rug, little lady”. Although I had no desire to dance with him, he insisted.
So, we would spend less than one song together while he talked politics and football. I nervously sweated and politely responded. Gypsy girls do not leave their escorts behind to dance with any non-related man. I kept taking the lead and moving us away from the windows.
The senator, unaware, kept on dancing as I repeatedly repositioned him. He said he wanted to introduce me to some people on Thursday because they need gee-zee impressin’ – whatever that means. Feeling no pain from the high-dollar wine and champagne, he was slurring his words and lewdly feeling my lower back. The song ended, but he wasn’t ready to let me go.
“Mind being a darling and getting me a glass of anything??” I asked him, sweetly.
He motioned for a waiter. By the time he turned back to chat with me I was in the wind.
It was a major challenge to avoid him and still, work the party. But, I did it.
I also spied Lyle and Paris feverishly making out on the balcony. It appears my relationship issue has resolved itself with no extra effort from me. I couldn’t help myself, anymore. I used my newly discovered “senator tactic”, grabbed Jarron and made him dance with me.
I didn’t have any other way to express my happiness. So, I indulged in a giddy wiggle-fest on the dance floor and said a prayer of thanks to my Maker. My playboy-ex is finally a part of my history – thanks to gorgeous Paris Langley.