CHAPTER 3
brEVAN
Ireally like the dorms on campus. While I’ve spent most of my time in the student athlete dorms, I’ve been in a few of the others, and from what I’ve seen, most of them are the same style.
There are two bedrooms, albeit small rooms, and a common room to share.
The common area has a small kitchenette with a mini-fridge, a small sink, and a few cabinets.
No stove. We brought in a single-burner cooktop and a microwave.
Our shared bathroom is also accessible from the common area. There’s a decent-sized table that we sometimes eat or study at, and a couch with two chairs, a coffee table, and a television.
Our underclassmen student athlete dorms are slightly bigger because there are two people in each bedroom, making this suite house four students instead of two. I didn’t mind sharing, but moving into upperclassman rooming is great. I love the space and privacy.
The key twists in the lock easily, and I open the door, finding Eddy on the couch with a bowl of cereal. He looks up and smiles.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Hey.”
That’s often the extent of our interactions. It’s not that we’re not friends. Well, maybe we’re more acquaintances than friends. We get along well enough, though.
He doesn’t play football with me. He’s a lacrosse player. I think it’s kind of cool that we’re not only housed with our teammates but those from within the same department, only different sports.
I bypass him on the way to my room.
“Mail’s on the table,” Eddy calls after me. “There’s something from the dean’s office for you.”
My stomach flips. I’m not in trouble, am I? My grades are good. My play on the field is good. Do I have outstanding tuition? I don’t think I do, but maybe that’s it?
Setting my bag on my bed, I head back into the common area and toward the table. A normal-sized envelope waits there for me. There’s a label that reads:
Brevan Skeeter
Bluff 324
In the upper left corner are the school crest and the words:
Provost Kendrick Keller
Alok Vaid-Menon Hall
“It’s from the provost’s office,” I say. Maybe to Eddy or maybe I’m just saying the words out loud. I don’t know.
“Yeah? What is it?” Eddy responds.
The envelope feels thick in my hand, which makes my heart race. Oh my god, I don’t know! What have I done? Am I being expelled?
Swallowing my nerves, I stick my finger under the lip of the seal and begin peeling my way in. There are a handful of papers folded up, and I carefully unfold them to read the words.
Dear Mr. Brevan Skeeter
On behalf of Rainbow Dorset University, I have the pleasure of offering you a position as student ambassador in the Companion Alliance Program (CAP) and extend a cordial welcome to you as a member of the inaugural team.
After carefully reviewing your application, I believe you’ll be an invaluable addition to our team of student ambassadors.
As you know, CAP is a new program introduced during the 2018-2019 school year, and our first ambassador trip will be this spring to tóreargleei University in Iceland this spring with the mission of creating a sistership in the LGBTQIA+-forward culture of RDU.
You will be representing our program and campus.
You will be provided a number of opportunities to exhibit your leadership skills.
This is your chance to obtain great experiences with fellow RDU students as well as those who attend tóreargleei University, share your experiences at RDU, and begin your development of a strong network of people globally.
RDU as an organization prides ourselves in investing our time and effort into ensuring that we are able to provide you an environment in which you can learn without prejudice, prepare for a successful future under the highest-esteemed people in their field, be part of a team in a peaceful, happy, and safe environment, and most importantly, have fun as is part of the college experience.
With CAP, we hope to take this mission globally.
CAP looks forward to welcoming you to a revolutionary cause. Please find relevant details below:
1. Date of departure: March 16, Alok Vaid-Menon Hall, 8:00 am
2. Duration of trip: 6 days
3. Benefits: RDU authorized certificates, internship opportunities with partnering schools, and networking opportunities
Upon return from the mission, based on your performance and the benefits of RDU, you will receive a certificate describing your performance and active participation. We will be in touch via email to update you on the onboarding process. Welcome to CAP! I look forward to working with you.
Thanks and regards,
Kendrick Keller, Ph.D.
Provost
Rainbow Dorset University
Encl. CAP guidelines, Itinerary, Helpful information]
I stare at the letter for a long time, eyebrows knit together in confusion.
My anxiety of being in trouble has left, but my bewilderment remains.
At the end of September, I received a letter from the provost’s office telling me that my application had been accepted and that invitations to CAP would go out in November.
At the time, I thought there’d been some confusion, but since it was just an acknowledgement letter, I didn’t think anything of it. Quite frankly, I’d forgotten all about it. It was a mistake. They’d figure that out. There was no reason to worry about it.
Now, staring at this letter that, I think, is telling me I’m a student ambassador for CAP and going to Iceland for a week? I’m not sure what to think.
“What is it?” Eddy asks.
I can’t force myself to look up from where I’m staring, though I can see him get to his feet in my peripheral vision. When he’s at my side, I hand him the letter and watch his face carefully. He’s almost instantly smiling, and that smile grows as he reads through it.
“Man, that’s awesome! Congratulations,” he says when he’s finished and meets my eyes. His head tilts to the side as he studies my face. “You don’t look thrilled. You’re going to Iceland, man. That’s exciting.”
“Eddy, I didn’t apply for this,” I say, shaking my head. He hands me the papers back, and they feel heavy in my hand. “There’s a mistake.” I’m not smart enough to be an ambassador.
“I’m sure there’s not a mistake. That’s your name clearly at the top.” His finger hits the paper several times. “But if you need assurance, head over to the provost’s office and see what’s up.”
Yeah, that’s what I’d do. “Thanks.”
“You’ll see,” he says, still beaming. “They chose you on purpose.”
He’s not right, but I don’t tell him that as I leave the dorm again.
It’s still well within typical working hours, so I head back toward the center of campus and Alok Vaid-Menon Hall.
One of the coolest things about RDU is that every building is named after a queer person from history and in modern times.
Sometimes the building names change halfway through a school year. An announcement goes out on the school’s social media app, The Pride Room, so we’re all kept in the loop. I love The Pride Room app. It’s like all the social media apps rolled into one, but it’s controlled by the school.
That might sound like it’s heavily censored, but it’s actually the complete opposite.
The only thing they truly control is who has access.
The only way to have a profile is to be a student, staff, faculty, or alumni at RDU.
Administration creates your profiles, resets passwords, and adjusts access to certain areas depending on your role and status on campus.
However, the only kinds of community standards that they monitor for are bullying, harassment, predatory behavior… that kind of thing.
Anyway, easily distracted as I am, I stop at the top of the stairs to look at the name of the building. It’s been changed in the last two months, if I remember correctly. I pause to read the plaque with Alok Vaid-Menon in large letters and then a little blurb about them.
Alok Vaid Menon is a gender-nonconforming, transfeminine advocate for bodily diversity, gender neutrality, and self-determination. They are an internationally acclaimed author, poet, comedian, speaker, fashion designer, and social media personality, with a style and identity constantly shifting.
There’s a smaller plaque that lists all the previous names of the building and a QR code that takes me to a page on the school’s website where I can read all about the people that the building is named for.
My fingers touch the letters of Alok’s name. They’re smooth but pronounced. I’m startled when the door opens abruptly, and I nearly stumble backward down the stairs. A guy grabs my shirt and keeps me upright, his amusement evident when I meet his eyes.
“Sorry,” I say as I right myself.
“You were far more distracted than I thought,” he says. “Sorry for startling you.” He pats my chest and moves past me down the stairs. I watch him for a minute and turn back to the door.
The inside of the building is neat and somewhat elegant.
There’s a lot of darkly polished wood in rich tones.
Carvings within the wood that you don’t see in many places.
I can’t decide if it’s because they want to give elegant, rich vibes in the provost’s building or if the new trade department is practicing.
There’s a man sitting at a large desk a couple dozen feet from the door. He greets me with a polite smile as I approach. “What can I do for you?”
I hold the letter out to him, feeling my cheeks flush as he looks at it. “I think there’s been a mistake,” I tell him.
He takes the letter from me and reads it over. “You’re Brevan Skeeter?” he asks, raising his eyes to mine.
My hands grip the hem of my shirt as I nod.
The man offers it back to me. “I’m not sure I understand what mistake you’re referring to, Mr. Skeeter.”
I hesitate to take the letter back. “I didn’t apply for this, and… I’m not very smart. I’m probably not a good person for this program.”
He watches me for a minute. “Have a seat, Mr. Skeeter.”
This is far more nerve-wracking than I anticipated it’d be.
Inclining my head, I choose a big leather chair in the waiting room to sit in.
The office is quiet. The entire building is quiet.
Almost disturbingly so. As if I’m all alone.
My eyes keep touching on the man at the desk just to assure myself that I’m not, in fact, alone.
There’s art on the wall. They’re all similar in style, so I think they’re by the same artist. It isn’t until I recognize the facade of the athletic department building that I begin recognizing most of the places in the art pieces. They’re all part of RDU.
“Mr. Skeeter?”
My attention snaps to a woman standing beside the desk. “Yes, ma’am,” I say, jumping to my feet. “I’m Brevan Skeeter.”
She smiles. “Come with me, please.”
I give the man at the desk a timid smile and follow the woman. She leads me to an office just as spectacular as the part of the building I’d just been in.
“Please have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the chairs in front of the desk as she closes the door. I do and watch as she walks around the back of the desk to join me. “Morlan says you think there’s a mistake in your CAP invitation letter.”
I’m guessing Morlan is the man at the desk.
Nodding, I hand it over. The woman accepts it.
“Provost Keller isn’t in right now, so he can’t speak to you directly; however, I’m his assistant, Byndley Horship.
” She talks to me as she reads over the letter.
Then she meets my eyes. “What’s your concern, Mr. Skeeter? ”
“I didn’t apply for the program,” I say, shrugging. My hands turn up, palms to the ceiling. I feel a little lost. “I also don’t think I was meant to be chosen. I’m not very smart, so I don’t think I should represent Rainbow Dorset.”
Byndley studies me for several minutes before she sets my letter down. There’s a folder in front of her that she opens, and for a minute, I watch as she looks through the papers. “Says here that you have a 3.67 GPA.”
“Yes,” I agree.
“That’s a very good GPA, Mr. Skeeter. That means you do very well in your classes, so I’m unsure why you think you’re not smart.”
“I go to the study center every day,” I admit.
“I’m happy to hear that you’re utilizing the tools available to you on campus, but again, that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. Getting extra assistance in your understanding of a subject matter that you’re less confident in is a very admirable thing.”
“Yeah, but… I’d fail without it.”
“Again, you seek the help necessary to assure that doesn’t happen. Correct?”
“I do.” I’m not sure I’m communicating clearly. “I just… I didn’t apply for the program. I don’t understand how my application was chosen when I didn’t submit one.”
“Now that is something I think we should talk about.” Byndley shuffles through the papers in the folder before sliding a stapled stack to me. “Is this you?”
I pick it up and read through the entire four-page application and…
yes, it’s totally me. And it’s all accurate.
The attached transcript is mine as well, and sure enough, my GPA is 3.
67. There are also three attached letters of recommendation—one from Coach Frost, one from my previous Literary History class teacher, and a third from my tutor!
I’m busy chewing the inside of my lip while looking at my application again. I can’t even say it’s not my handwriting since it’s typed. The signature is a digital one, the kind you use when you digitally sign something.
“I swear to you, I didn’t fill this out. I didn’t get these recommendations.” I meet her eyes again. “This is me, but I didn’t fill out the application.”
Byndley continues to study me. I set the application back on her desk and fold my hands together as I wait for her to tell me to get out, and I won’t be attending this ambassador program. I’m surprised when she offers me a smile instead.
“Mr. Skeeter, tell me. Are you interested in being a part of CAP?”
“Yes, but—” I stop talking when she holds up a hand.
“I only asked if you’re interested.”
“I am.”
“And if you were to go on this trip, what do you think you could offer?”
Chills break out over my body, though I’m not sure why.
“I love it here. It’s the only place that has ever felt like home.
I can talk extensively about the athletic department?
And… campus life? Maybe the study center?
” When I’m unsure and nervous, I tend to sound like I’m asking questions as opposed to answering them.
“You’re exactly the kind of student we’d like in this program, Mr. Skeeter. There was no mistake in choosing you to represent the school, the students, and our mission.”
My breath whooshes out of me as I stare at her.