Staying on Course (9 page)

I giggle and lean back, releasing her. “He’s sort of intense.”

“Sort of? Pretty sure that’s the only reason your dad gave him permission, or his blessing, to propose. We’re both certain that man will worship you forever.”

“Think Daddy will freak out if we get married before I go into the Master’s program?”

“Why do you think I went ahead and got these?”

She reaches down the opposite side of my bed and lifts a stack of bridal magazines. I squeal and reach for them.

Oh, yeah, this is going to be fun.

*****

Students:

Welcome home! I must tell you once again that it was an absolute pleasure to lead this group to South America. There is no doubt that I grew as a person and professional from this experience.

It has come to my attention that NBC, the official news network for the 2016 Summer Olympics, will begin coverage this Thursday. They will launch an entire series, spotlighting almost every element of these games. From the construction of the venues, the determination of the athletes, and the economic impact. They will essentially be covering everything we spent the last six weeks researching.

Unfortunately, this affects us tremendously. I’ve spoken to all senior members involved with the Summer Expo, and we must make some changes to your assignments. We are asking that you complete an outline and diagram for your final two papers by
NEXT FRIDAY
.

We understand and sympathize that this timeline is extremely aggressive and cuts down two weeks of your original final assignment, but we feel we can safely protect the integrity of the work if not touched by outside influences. No one is insinuating that you would rely on news to complete your work, but this allows us the opportunity to send them to our sponsors, partners, and local affiliates to get the attention and appreciation you deserve. There will always be room for changes, but this will be your foundation.

It was already discussed that we would run stories each week in the campus paper, but this is more for the benefit of the larger sources. If you have any trouble, please contact me or your team leaders. We are all here and willing to help.

Also, we encourage you to work in tandem with your team and peers. This is the part of the program that speaks to your creativity and voice.

Once again, I am available if you have questions.

Sincerely,

Professor Henry Grant

Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! I re-read the email again and pick up my phone as it rings in my hand.

“There really is only one solution to this. We work together,” Quinn states matter-of-factly.

“I agree. You coming here?”

“Yes, you have the photo software. I’ll fill in my parents and be there soon.”

“See you then.” I hang up and grab my camera, hooking it up to my computer. My phone rings again with an out of area number.

“Hello?”

“Jesus, I missed hearing you.” Bryce’s hoarse voice flows through the line.

“Bryce! Where have you been?”

“We’ve been in lockdown. Didn’t you get my text?”

“THREE DAYS AGO!” I screech.

“Has it been three days? Shit.” He sounds exhausted.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I was worried.”

“Me too. I haven’t even showered yet. Needed to hear your voice. It’s been a rough few days.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Not now. I don’t even want to think about it. How was your trip home? What’s going on?”

“Besides missing you like crazy?”

“Five and a half more weeks.”

I start to say something about that being too long but decide against it. He doesn’t need to worry. So, instead, I tell him about the going away party, the trip home, and the latest email about my projects.

“Wow, sounds like you’re going to be busy.”

“And we have to be in Kentucky the first few days of August for NCAA Cheerleading camp. This helps with our bid to Nationals.”

“Is it co-ed?”

“Of course.”

He groans in the phone. “How much longer are you cheering?”

“As long as I can.”

“It almost killed me in Miami to watch those guys feeling all over you. Not sure how I’m going to get through football season.” He no longer sounds tired but more pissed off.

“Are you really jealous of my teammates?”

“Yeah. Thinking about petitioning the school to insist on shorts instead of skirts.”

“BRYCE! Don’t you dare!” I protest, knowing he would do it.

“Maybe you could stop shaving your legs and washing your hair. Anything to keep the guys away.”

“That’s really gross.”

There’s a rustling sound, and then the phone goes quiet. I vaguely hear a female voice in the background. Then Bryce says something back, muffled.

“Listen, I need to go. Nate’s going to call your parents later.”

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Just someone confirming a project we’re working on tomorrow.”

A nagging feeling slinks up my spine. I start to ask him more but decide to drop it.

“I’m whipped. Need some sleep and a hot shower.”

“Umm,” a moan slips through.

“Devon, quit,” he hisses.

“Hearing you say whipped and shower is sexy.”

“Stop now! I cannot get a hard on here. The guys will never let me live it down.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the sexual frustration coming through.”

“Sexually frustrated is an understatement. You have no idea.”

“Okay, I’ll behave. But before you go, I have to know. Are you going to disappear for another three days?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Quinn knocks lightly and comes into my room with an enormous load of stuff.

“I’d better go, too. Quinn’s here, and I haven’t even told my parents about our new deadline. Call me tonight if you can.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up as Quinn sets up a tack board, dry erase board, and her computer at my desk. I raise an eyebrow but stay quiet, knowing this is how my anal-retentive friend narrows down ideas.

“Let’s rock this shit. I have plans to see Dean in Atlanta this weekend.”

Envy turns in my stomach, wishing I was able to see Bryce. Five and a half weeks can’t get here soon enough.

We spend three days going through photos, outlining ideas, and communicating with the members of our teams to gather their notes and share resources. We both finally decide on our diagrams. I’m finishing an email to Shana when my dad knocks and pokes his head through the door.

“Dev, Nate called and said you need to check your phone. Bryce is going crazy. Something about a video online.”

“Huh?”

He shrugs and walks out while Quinn looks at her messages.

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no,” she chants.

“What?”

“Dean is livid. Left three messages and five texts.”

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” She shoves her phone in my face.

My mouth drops when I open the video from the going away celebration in Rio. A lot of us are dancing around, but the video zooms in on Quinn and me at one point. From the angle, it absolutely looks like we are dirty dancing with the guys behind us. Lucky for me, I look tame compared to Quinn. Her teammate, Hank, lowers his hand rapidly and appears he’s spanking her. I remember the whole night, and what really happened was that he almost dropped his beer and used both hands to grab it.

That is not at ALL what it looks like.

We are both tagged in the video that is now on Facebook. Bryce is probably shitting a brick.

I give her a sympathetic look and grimace.

This is not going to be good
, I think as I dial and wait for Bryce to answer.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he roars in greeting. “Where have you been?”

“I didn’t think we’d talk until tonight, so my phone was on silent.”

“Did you know about the video streaming across the internet?”

“I do now, and it looks worse than it is. Really.”

“Tell me how it could be worse. That guy is practically up your ass! And don’t get me started on Quinn.”

“Bryce, listen to me. It isn’t what it seems.”

His breathing gets louder, and he growls. Quickly, I explain the night and wait for him to calm down. But my plan backfires, and instead, he gets more aggravated.

“Can you pull this shit down?”

I un-tag myself and remove from my timeline. “Done.”

“That shit’s not cool, Devon. I don’t want it to happen again.”

“Are you scolding me? I told you about the party. It was innocent.”

Quinn wipes a few tears from her cheeks, clearly upset. This pisses me off. “And, for your information, I already have one dad.”

“Dad?” he roars, heat practically coming through the phone line. “You think I’m acting like your dad? No, I’m acting like a man who doesn’t appreciate seeing his fiancée in a foreign country dirty dancing – ONLINE!”

“We weren’t dirty dancing!” I defend myself.

“Call it what you want, Devon, but I am fifteen-hundred miles away. My physical, emotional, and mental endurance is being tested every minute. Recently, I spent seventy-two hours in a form of hell. Then I’m graced with you shaking your ass on camera for everyone to see!”

His words sink in fast, and my gusto to argue deflates. He’s right. If the roles were reversed, I’d be livid. This is a battle I cannot win. He’s got a valid point.

“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat. “Please believe me. I can see how it looks to you, but I’d never disrespect you like that. The last thing I want, especially with you so far away, is to have you mad at me.”

Finally, his anger subsides a little. “Promise not to put yourself in this position again?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not trying to dictate your life, Devon. You’re in social situations all the time. I’ll deal with the jealousy, but the next time you go dancing in a club, I’d prefer to be with you.”

“Okay.”

The sound of Quinn’s soft crying fills the room, and she face plants into my bed.

“Bryce, it doesn’t seem like things went well with Quinn and Dean. I need to go. Are we okay?”

“Yeah, babe. Call you tomorrow.”

We say our goodbyes, and I crawl in next to Quinn. Her body quivers when my arms snake around her.

“We broke up.”

“Because of the video?”

“Mostly.”

She doesn’t elaborate, so I stay quiet, waiting for her to calm down. After a few minutes, she starts to hiccup lightly.

“I love him,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“He said he loved me, too.”

“When?”

“Before we left for Brazil.”

“What happened just now on the phone?”

“He said he believed me that Hank wasn’t slapping my ass.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Even though he believed me, he was still furious. He asked me not to come tomorrow, and he wants to take a break. Said I embarrassed him.”

“So he didn’t actually use the term break-up?”

She rolls her eyes at me sarcastically. “Read between the lines, Devon.”

Her lip quivers as fresh tears stream down her cheeks. I hug her close and fight back my own emotions. This girl has been strong for me so many times. Memories of the first few weeks in Virginia flood my mind. She held me more times than I can count when I cried over Bryce. My heart was shattered, but she tried every day to put it back together.

As her tears soak my shirt, my blood starts to boil.
How dare he?

Her sobs slow. She sniffs a few times and backs away. Her pink, splotchy cheeks hurt my heart. She finally catches her breath and rolls off the bed, going to the bathroom. I watch her splash water on her face and imagine what it would feel like to slap the shit out of Dean Todd.

Quinn turns back to me, and her once pink cheeks are now bright red. There’s fire in her eyes, sadness replaced with anger.

“You know what? Fuck him! Who does he think he is?”

Her change of attitude shocks me, so I nod to agree.

“There are two people in this relationship, and I’m not going to let him push me around.” Her voice grows louder. “You don’t treat someone you love like that. It’s bullshit. I apologized, told him the real story, and he wants a ‘break’? That asshole made me cry. I’m not a crier! You’re the crier. I’m the badass best friend!”

I nod again, afraid to say anything to disrupt her tirade.

“He’s not getting off this easy. Get ready for a road trip.” Her hands wave through the air, distracting me.

“Wait? What?” I realize what she said.

“We’re going to Atlanta. He can tell me to my face. Then I can give him a piece of my mind. He told me he loved me, and I believed it. Now, I’m going to see for myself.”

“Umm, Quinn, that doesn’t seem like a good idea. Why not give him a day or so to calm down. I’m sure he’ll realize his mistake and beg for forgiveness.”

“Nope, we’re going.” She starts to pack her computer bag. “I’ll be back to pick you up at ten am.”

“Sweetie, this could turn out really bad. This could even be a bit stalker-ish.”

Her shoulders slump, and she takes a deep breath. “I know, but I have to see him. The video is hardly a reason for us to break up. So if he’s serious, he can tell me to my face, not over the phone.”

“What happens if—?”

“If he breaks my heart, more than it is now, I’ll suck it up. I’ll walk away gracefully. Then I’ll curl into your arms and cry until there are no tears left.”

She doesn’t say anything else before leaving. I fall back onto my bed and pray this is not a mistake.

*****

Dread washes through me when we drive up to Dean’s townhouse. For the hundredth time since we left Nashville, I wish Quinn would call him instead of showing up unannounced. His garage is down, so there’s no way to tell if he’s even home. Originally, he took half a day off to spend with Quinn, but who knows if he decided to work. She practiced her speech the whole four-hour drive.

My phone dings with an incoming text, and I smile.

Bryce: For the record, I think chasing after your man is hot!

Me: I’m still hoping someone can bail us out if we get arrested for stalking.

Bryce: I had money ready, but it won’t be necessary.

Me: Why?

Bryce: Call me when you get to the hotel.