29. Orion
29
ORION
T he end of the semester film premiere is packed. Thankfully, we booked one of the ballrooms in the student center. Sofia set most of it up but needed my signature on a few things. The room is huge and decked out in sleek white, navy, and gold.
Round tables are set up around the big, open space, a small stage up front with a microphone where Sofia briefly introduces the film.
Their twenty-minute short film premieres to rounds of applause and praise. Sofia’s fellow club members take the stage to make funny speeches on the makeshift stage, laughing and giggling like kids.
Our hospitality department has catered the event and is running the show behind the scenes. But Sofia is running everything else. She’s in her element, and I wish I could be by her side through it all.
Once enough people asked me about the project and I put my hands up and pointed them to Sofia, they let me slink to the outer edge of the crowd to let Sofia shine.
All I did was stand back and wait for them to need me. They rarely did.
I didn’t need any of the credit for it.
Everyone is chatting and eating, mingling with good cheer and ease. It seems like the entire Film, Media, and Design departments have come to celebrate their students.
I’ve talked with more people I don’t know than I’m used to, but fielding their questions and comments is the simplest part of my job tonight. The hardest part is not hovering around Sofia.
Trevino and Barlowe are also making a concentrated effort to not bring more attention to her than she already has. She’s the film’s producer, so she’s surrounded by people at every moment.
Her friends help her out, bringing her plates of snacks and refilling her drink since she can’t seem to disengage. It doesn’t appear to wear on her at all. She’s made for this.
For the umpteenth time, I hear her say, “It was a team effort. Really. Everyone in the club is so fantastic. Did you see how good Cindy was? She killed her role.”
Another murmur from her audience. “Oh, it was Collin’s idea to shoot the scene that way.”
Sofia practically glows when she praises others, shifting the attention away from herself. She’s got all of the qualities to be an excellent producer after she graduates. I’m betting on her success.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to matter how much she deflects the compliments. Leann circles the room, being a perpetual thorn in everyone’s side. The adults abandon her quickly to her snide comments and how much effort she put in but isn’t getting proper credit for. Or what she would have done differently if she’d been in charge, how much better her version would have been.
It’s hard to not roll my eyes at her, but every time I draw my attention away, I catch Dr. Squires staring at me. She stalks toward me with a drink in her hand. We’ve encountered each other enough times, and I was my usual flirty self for a while. Until the day she cornered Sofia in the hallway.
Since then, it’s been a polite indifference, although I still flirt with practically everyone. Soph and I agreed that it would look better if I kept that up, lessen any chance of people thinking I’ve given her special treatment.
It’s not like I hold any real authority over her, but I’m glad she understands how I feel after what happened at my last school.
Only when Squires is at my side do I see the entitled look in her pale eyes. Those long fingers and sharp fingernails calculatingly brush her fake copper hair off her face. “Why aren’t you in there boasting about the project and soaking in the praise?”
Those nails drop to clink against her cup threateningly.
“Not my praise to take. I didn’t do much beyond stand there and let them do their thing.”
“Mmm. Yes. Miss Newman seems quite capable for someone so young. I suppose that comes from being a single mom.” Squires spares a glance at Sofia, but the look she gives me when her attention turns makes me cold.
Grasping the bottom of my tie with her nails, she rubs the material between her fingers. The move is too intimate. Too forward for the vibes I’m giving off.
Maybe she doesn’t care. She doesn’t seem like someone who gives a shit about what other people want.
“I bet it does. She seems like a good mom, too.” I take a small step back. It’s a clear message that I’m not interested.
Her eyes narrow as she takes a sip from her cup.
“It’s too bad you’re so prone to making the same mistakes.” Her sigh sounds anything but regretful. She turns slowly, and I watch Squires confidently make her way to the stage.
My stomach bottoms out.
A bad feeling slings itself across the back of my neck in warning as she stands in front of the microphone.
Especially when I turn to see the triumphant grin on Leann’s face.
Oh, no.
Squires gives the microphone a few taps, sending screeching feedback through the loud room and dropping it into silence. She clears her throat.
“Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say, what a fantastic project, Sofia. You have quite the talent.”
She has to pause as a round of applause lifts and crescendos around the room before it falls back to a temperate silence again.
“But I have a rather… delicate question.”
The room quiets even further. My chest tightens around my lungs, leaving little room for breath. Like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and the ground is about to fall from under my feet. Still, I’m frozen in place.
“Do you think it’s ethical for a student who has certain—let’s say, intimate relationships with multiple faculty members—to hold such a leadership role?”
The room murmurs and whispers, noise building as more and more ask their small groups what Squires is talking about.
My stomach sinks.
I catch Trevino’s gaze first.
Then Barlowe comes up beside him.
Their expressions match the dread surging in my gut.
Fuck .
Sofia steps forward, ready to respond, but Squires leans into the microphone again, a small, smug smile curling the corner of her mouth.
“Leann…”
I turn to find Leann at the media table behind the projector.
“Would you mind plugging in that footage for me? I think everyone will find it… enlightening.”