Mid-September, eleven years ago
“You know, it’s really a lot of fun. I joined as a freshman myself, last year, and now I’m the society president. And you really don’t need to be majoring in Sciences to join. We have members of all kinds — a lot of philosophy students, for example. And I’m not studying sciences either, I’m a Comms major.”
The brown-haired guy with the glasses was definitely giving me a convincing pitch at the Astrophysics Society stall. Plus, he had the bluest eyes behind those lenses. And I’d always loved learning about and debating the universe and the cosmos, and pondering the vastness of it all. Even if, as a Communications major myself, it wasn’t my specialty.
But I’d just come from the Northwest Notables A Cappella stall, and they’d been equally convincing. I was dying to get back into singing after more than a year. Choir had been one of my greatest joys in high school — and a much-needed escape from the fights between my parents at home, until they divorced.
Problem was, both of the groups met Tuesday nights.
“I’ll have to think about it,” I told the brown-haired guy with a smile. He grinned back, clutching theatrically at his heart as if wounded by an arrow, and backed away. Soon his attention was caught by the next prospect. I stepped away and made room for a pair of nerdy-looking guys in sweater vests who had been clamoring for my spot at the stall.
Dammit, it sucked that my top two extracurricular choices were on the same night. Maybe there was another vocal harmony group. But I’d really liked the people on the Notables booth, and could imagine singing with them. Maybe becoming friends.
“Deep in contemplation, I see.”
A low, newly familiar voice behind me. I turned with a smile.
“Ben! What are you doing here?” I reached up to give him a slightly awkward hug — awkward because he was so much taller than me, and because the hug had clearly caught him off guard. Also because I’d seen Ben only two days ago, when he helped me and Bonnie move into our university dorm, so a hug was probably overkill.
But even in that slightly stilted moment, his strong arms definitely felt good around me.
No.
I absolutely could not think of Ben that way. Developing a crush on Bonnie’s brother would be disastrous. He was entirely off-limits, and nothing could ever happen — not if I didn’t want to risk my friendship with Bonnie, and my newfound closeness with the entire Mason family. I had to think of him as a good friend — nothing more.
We pulled back, a little bashful. Ben was dressed in a crisp pale-blue shirt that looked great against his tan. It was the most put-together I’d seen him in the two weeks since we met.
“I was just dropping off more clean laundry for Bonnie, under Mom’s instructions,” he said with a laugh. “And no, I’m not going to be her regular laundry errand boy. I was heading into the city, so it was on my way.”
“I figured you looked like you were going somewhere. Hot date?” I joked, then instantly regretted it. My cheeks burned a little. Hopefully it would just look like I’d caught the sun.
“Actually, yeah,” Ben replied, unflustered. “A girl I knew from high school recently got in touch, now that she’s back from Stanford. We’ve seen each other a few times over the summer. I’m taking her for a birthday dinner in the city.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t quite sure what to do with this information. Why hadn’t Bonnie mentioned Ben was seeing someone? “Well, that’s great. Have an awesome time.” I turned to leave, but he caught my arm.
“What about you?” he asked. “You joining any of these clubs?”
I glanced back to the astrophysics table, where the brown-haired guy was looking over at us. “I think so. I just need to decide between astrophysics — which, as you know from our firepit and s’mores conversations, I love talking about — or a cappella, which I want to get back into. Both groups meet on the same night, which sucks.”
Ben followed my gaze to the astrophysics guy, who quickly turned away. “Well, I also know from our firepit and s’mores nights that you hold a hell of a harmony line, and you have one of the warmest alto tones I’ve heard in a while. So my vote would be singing. Not that you’re looking for my advice, of course.” He waggled his eyebrows.
I chuckled. “I guess you’ve seen the Notables perform — at least its previous members, when you were at school here?”
“Oh yeah,” he replied, “loads of times. They’re a lot of fun. They’ve even gone to some international a cappella conventions. I got to know some of the previous members when they sang in a Performing Arts department recital night, alongside a short play I was doing. That would’ve been... my junior year of Theater Studies, I guess.”
Despite Ben in all his tanned, six-foot-four manliness standing in front of me, an image popped into my mind. The dazzling smile and salt-and-pepper beard of the theater professor I’d met on the spring campus tour.
“You must’ve studied under Professor Anderson, when you were here?” I asked, feigning innocent curiosity. “He showed us the theater when I visited earlier this year.”
“Yeah, sure, Rufus was one of my main professors,” Ben replied, an eyebrow raised. The side of his mouth twitched in a not-quite smile that had a knowing edge. “Very brilliant in many ways. Very charismatic. Very popular with the female students, as you can imagine. But also very much attached to Professor Amy Brandon, the philosophy lecturer. They live together.”
“Oh, right, no, I mean, I wasn’t—” I stammered. My not-sunburn flush deepened.
He chuckled, letting me off the hook. “Anyways, just remember, with the a cappella group, you’re working towards something — something you achieve together. Usually there’s a big end-of-year performance, plus other smaller gigs through the year, and the possibility of travel. That’s a lot more rewarding than simply sitting around talking about the universe with a bunch of know-it-alls.” He gave me that wide grin. “In my opinion.”
I laughed. “Well, Mr. Playwright-slash-Theater-Director, you would say that, being all about the Big Show. It’s already your chosen path.”
He nodded, the smile still lighting up his face. “Well, then, Millie, I will leave you to choose your path. But make it a good one.” He placed a hand briefly on the side of my shoulder, then turned and walked away, his dark-blond head above virtually everyone else’s.
Why did I always feel a little bereft when Ben left my presence? And now he had a girlfriend. Probably fabulous and confident and pretty.
Ugh.
I shook myself out of it, and turned back to the decision at hand. Ben had a good point about the benefits of joining the singing group. I threw the brown-haired astrophysics dude another quick glance, turned, and headed back to the Northwest Notables stall.
The guy from the choir I’d chatted with earlier — maybe he’d said his name was Chris? — gave me a warm smile as I approached. “Back again, I see. I thought we’d lost you to the space nerds.”
I pulled in a deep breath. “I’d like to audition, please — Millie MacKenzie,” I said quickly, before I could change my mind.