37. Cohen
I’d been working on this paper so long, my eyes were starting to cross. But I had to get it perfect before sending it on to Jonas to read so I could get his feedback.
Marjorie, the secretary at Emerson Academy, had seemed so confused at my question on how to get a handbook item changed, she sent me back to Headmaster Bradford. I’d hardly had any interaction with him other than watching him introducing the band at showcases.
He was a little shorter than me, but broad, with hawk-like eyes that made me understand why Birdie was so reticent to break any sort of rules at the school.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Bardot?” he’d asked. So proper.
When I asked him how to have a line item in the handbook changed, he’d told me it practically required an Act of Congress. I needed to get a hundred signatures on a petition from students, staff, or parents to even have the rule change considered by the board of trustees. Then, I needed to give a presentation in front of the entire board, showing that a new rule really was merited. The next meeting was a couple months away, so I had time, but that was the worst part.
I had time.
Time away from Birdie. Time to wait for her to get snatched up by some guy, because she would. She was beautiful and funny and sexy as hell. A man would have to be blind not to notice, but even a blind man could hear the clear chime of her voice and be smitten as well.
I had to stifle that feeling of hopelessness as I worked on the speech. On the email I would send to everyone in the directory if I had to.
Birdie had told me she didn’t want to break the rule, which I’d respect. And if by some miracle I got the rule changed and she didn’t want to see me, well I’d cross that bridge when I got there.
The thought of her dating someone else, the thought of her turning me away, it was too much to handle.
I finished the closing paragraph, knowing I would need to rewrite it a million times before it would be good enough for stuffy people like Headmaster Bradford. After saving, I sent it to the printer in the apartment complex’s business office and took the elevator down to get it.
With the few crisp sheets in my hands, I took the elevator back up and went to my room. I’d play some TV in the background while I worked over the writing again and eventually sent it to Jonas.
But as soon as I sat down, my phone started ringing.
I blinked at the name on the screen.
Birdie.
She couldn’t be calling.
But I blinked again, and there she was, like a fucking star in the blackest of night skies. I hurriedly swiped to answer, trying and failing not to get too excited.
“Hello?” I said.
Her voice was a balm. “Come pick me up.”
“Absofuckinlutely.”
She giggled and said, “I’ll send you a map pin.”
“I’ll be there.”
I didn’t think about what this meant, and I definitely didn’t ask her as I said goodbye. This was the most hopeful I’d felt all week, and I was going to feel it for as long as I could. If I got shattered, well, there were more buckets of beer and wings to be had at the bar.
The pin came through my phone, and I looked at the address. She was near a fancy restaurant at Emerson Shoppes. Audrey liked shopping those boutiques, even though you could get the same thing for half the price at a department store.
I wondered why Birdie was there. Wondered what had made her think of me.
Grabbing my keys, I flew down the stairs and went to find out as fast as I possibly could.