15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Abby
T here’s no way I’ll be able to stand up there and read my work for this large of a crowd if I win anything. That was not stated in the invite. Maybe it was on the submission form that Dr. Kraus submitted for me. Either way, I think I might shrivel if I have to read anything. My stomach is tied in knots right now.
Dallas leans in, lips to my ear, and whispers, “You’ll be okay. I’m sure they won't force you if you don’t want to.” He squeezes my thigh before returning his attention to the stage. Just that little bit of encouragement is enough to steady my nerves, but his hand gripping my thigh, his mouth that close to my neck, his breath so warm against my skin all sets the rest of my body on fire.
“First, I want to give you a little history on the LAO.” Dr. Jones launches into what could be a dissertation of who started the organization and how they got where they are today. Apparently, they are the second largest organization at Oxly and have held the award for Best in Leadership for the past seven years.
When she finishes the history lesson, it seems I’m not the only one who has grown bored with it. The line at the bar is much longer than it was when she started, not that she seems to care what everyone else thinks. I’ll admit, I tuned out after a while, too.
“And that is how the LAO came to be.” She gives a wide smile like she’s proud of the boredom she created. “Now, let’s move on to what everyone is really here for, the awards!” Everyone perks up again as she continues. “Every year, each board member is invited to provide two submissions. Doing so gives us a wonderful selection of students, some new, some old, but all vastly unique in their skill sets. Here at Oxly, we pride ourselves on supporting students in ways that further their education. This year's top three finalists will be awarded scholarships for continuing their education.”
Scholarship? My heart almost stops at the mention of it. Not that I need one, but my mind instantly thinks of my mom. Would she be proud of me now? Would I finally make the cut as a satisfactory daughter? Maybe a first-place win would also make her happy. I’m not proud that that’s the first thing I think of. I force the thought away.
Dr. Jones motions for the rest of the board to stand. “If all nominees could please join us on stage and stand next to your respective nominator.”
I hesitate to get up, but Dallas squeezes the thigh he’s been resting his hand on again. “You’ll do great.” He kisses my cheek before I stand.
My steps toward and up the stage are a reluctant trudge until I stand between Dr. Kraus and his other nominee. She’s an older woman, maybe sixties, with heavily salt-and-peppered hair. She wears a pair of thin-rimmed glasses and smiles at me like a loving grandmother would to their grandchild.
“Good luck, dear,” she whispers when I look over. We’re the same height so she doesn’t have to bend down.
I smile back and say, “You, too.” My eyes frantically search the crowd for Dallas. All these eyes, though likely not solely on me, are dreadful. Invisibility sounds like a nice escape right about now.
Dr. Jones begins again. “Wonderful. I will have everyone introduce themselves and their submitted work, and then we can get on with the awards.”
Slowly, one by one, each person introduces themselves. The first girl is only a few years older than me, a graduate student working towards her doctorate, and her work is a poem. Another man, looking to be in his late twenties, also wrote a poem. Each person introduces themselves, and I realize that most people have submitted poems. I have not had much success with poems lately and now I’m feeling a little out of place. A girl about my age goes next, and she states she wrote a song she plans to play for everyone if she wins.
Dr. Kraus moves to the microphone and introduces himself. “Good evening. My name is Dr. Charles Kraus. I am the head of the Shakespeare department here at Oxly University, and, of course, a board member of the LAO. My two candidates are a special selection this year, both undergrads who have absolutely amazing talent.” He motions for the older woman to go first, and she happily takes her place in front of the microphone with a broad smile that crinkles her eyes at the corners.
“Hello, everyone!” she yells into the microphone and immediately pulls back when she realizes she doesn’t have to be so loud. “Apologies. My name is Sandy Landry. Fun name, I know.”
Landry? Could she be related to the owner of Landry’s Bar and Grill? I look at Dallas, who also has a curious look on his face. We eye each other, and he shrugs.
“I want to thank Dr. Kraus for encouraging me to submit my work to the LAO. Without his support, I likely would have kept it to myself. As he said, I’m an undergrad studying literature. I truly don’t know what I’ll do with my degree, but I am enjoying learning new things at such an age as mine.” She laughs, as does the crowd, before continuing. “My work is a short story in the horror category with themes of death.” Hmm. She and I might get along. “Thank you for considering me as a nominee today.” She steps back to us before it’s my turn.
Dr. Kraus gestures for me to take my place at the microphone and I have to force my feet forward. “Uh, h-hi. I’m Abigail Cooper.” I find Dallas again and focus on him, so I don’t have to stare at the faces of everyone else. He nods as if saying, “You got this,” again. I take a deep breath before continuing. “I’m an undergrad studying English. I’m not sure what I’ll do with my degree yet, either, but I’m thankful to be here. My work is a short story about,” I hesitate. I hadn’t thought about how to describe it. “Um, it’s about love and loss. Thank you.” I cut my brief speech even shorter than I had planned, but I can’t get the words to come out. They’re stuck in my throat, just below the thick knot. So, I step back to my place and wait impatiently until someone else starts speaking so that all eyes drift away from mine.
Thankfully, Dr. Jones returns to the front to continue. “Thank you all for the lovely introductions. I would like to start the awards by saying that every student standing on this stage is extremely talented in their own way. The submissions are voted on anonymously by the entire LAO organization besides the five of us board members. The vote this year was so close we double-checked three times.” The board members all chuckle and nod along to her admission. “Now let's start with the awards, shall we?”
The crowd cheers and claps as the list of placements is handed to her. She smiles and waits for the crowd to die down. She unfolds the piece of paper and takes a deep breath. So do I. As an undergrad, I’ll be happy if I make it past last place.
“In tenth place, Rory Dylan.”
My heart leaps with the realization that I didn’t come last. Everyone cheers and claps as he takes his plaque and moves to the side to take a picture with the board members. This repeats until only four of us are left. Sandy got fifth place and took her spot at the side of the stage with the others to keep watching. I don’t know how I’ve managed to make it this far. My hands are clasped tightly at my chest as I wait for her to announce the next person.
“In fourth place,” she starts. The room is silent. I hold my breath as if breathing might knock me down where I stand. “Candice Peters.”
What? I made it into the top three? How? There are only three undergrads out of the ten of us. How have I, of all the nominees, managed to make it this far? I haven’t dared look at Dallas this whole time, afraid that if I do, I’ll break my resolve in front of the crowd. But I do this time. His grin is wide as he makes the realization, too. Candice Peters smiles and takes her plaque like everyone else and then there are only three of us. Me, Danny, who wrote an entire book, and Madison, who wrote the song.
Dr. Jones drags this out even longer when she says, “Can we get another applause for the seven I have called? They truly are wonderful students, and the LAO is excited to have the new candidates joining us.” Everyone claps. “And can we get a round of applause for the three remaining students?” More clapping. My stomach churns as I wait for her to continue.
Finally, she does. “Without further ado, in third place, we have Madison Grady.”
I think I might throw up. There’s no way I’m in the top two. My legs threaten to give out from under me, but I lock my knees to hold myself upright. I keep my hands fisted into the sides of my dress to keep myself from fidgeting and drawing too much attention.
“The final two.” I force a smile. “Abigail, Danny, will you please join me on either side?”
Somehow, my feet carry me forward until I’m standing on her right, Danny on her left. He extends a hand to me, and I shake it, hoping he can’t feel how much I’m already quaking in my own skin.
“I want you two to know that no matter who wins, you are both exceptional students.” She nods with a sweet smile. “In second place,” she pauses. I find Dallas’s eyes and hold them. “Abigail Cooper.”
All the air I had been holding steady washes out of my lungs in one quick burst. Danny smiles wide but still offers his hand to shake again. At least he’s got humility through this. Second place is still much further than I ever expected to get.
My smile isn’t forced this time as I take the plaque and move to the side for the picture. Dr. Kraus offers his arms for a hug, and I happily oblige before shaking the hands of the rest of the board members.
Danny is announced as the first-place winner for this year's LAO awards and he gets a well-deserved standing ovation. He joins us at the side of the stage, and a group picture is taken before Dr. Jones finishes with her closing words for the night.
“Thank you to all our participants this year. We are grateful to have such talent among us. If I could have the top three placements stay, everyone else can make their way back to their tables.”
Dr. Kraus hands me a small packet. My short story. Fuck. I almost forgot about this part. I scan the pages and ask, “What am I supposed to read? I haven’t chosen a section to read yet.”
“Don’t worry. I circled my favorite spot. Page three.”
I flip to the third page, and sure enough, a section is circled in red pen. I look up and he winks at me like he knows it’ll be a hit. It’s a good spot, one of the paragraphs I spent the most time on. I guess it paid off if that’s what he was most drawn to. “Okay,” I say.
Dr. Jones holds out an arm toward the side of the stage. “The top three finalists will now perform a part of their work. First up is Madison.”
I hadn’t noticed she’d been given an acoustic guitar, the strap embroidered with bright yellow sunflowers. She takes her place at center stage and sits on a stool. She checks her tuning before strumming a beautiful low chord. The song is gorgeous, as is her voice. I could see her going far. She should play at Landry’s. People would love her. I make a mental note to suggest the idea to Dallas when she finishes. As expected, the crowd stands and claps furiously, and whistles and shouts sound from somewhere near the back likely from the people she invited.
Then it’s my turn. I move to the microphone and glance at Dr. Kraus, who gives me a gentle nod. I shift my eyes to Dallas, who simply smiles and looks far more relaxed than I feel.
Take a deep breath. Reading this isn’t going to change anything that’s happened tonight.
I focus on the paper in my hands, gripping it a little too tightly, but it feels like the only thing holding me steady. And then I begin reading.
“Fury. It’s not some wrath escapable simply by walking. It’s mental. It’s subconscious. It holds you hostage when you least expect it. Or maybe you do. But I can’t stand in it any longer. These waters are murky. They’re thick, like the kind of sludge that drifts past after a heavy storm. My feet remain glued to the same spot they’ve been in for far too long. And as I pull one foot out from the depths, something shudders beneath me.
“And then something different shudders ahead of me, stronger, a convalescence so powerful I think might finally breach the shell of the person I’ve become. It ascends, from where I’m not sure, but it holds out its hand. There is no demand that I take it. Only an offer. But I can feel something deeper in the palm of that hand. It’s pleading, almost the same as mine has been, but where mine has been an anxious burning beg, this one is softer, kinder.
“So, I take the hand, and for the first time, both feet are free, both hovering above the depths of that dark, raging water, that once inescapable fury.”
I look up and see all eyes on me, everyone’s breaths held as firmly in place as mine. I force a small smile and bow my head to signify the end of my reading. I’ve never read my work for anyone other than classmates during presentations or Dr. Kraus in his office. But this feels so much more real. So surreal. And I find that I don’t hate it. Reading this was almost as freeing as what I wrote. Weightless. I feel myself getting choked up, so I say a quick “Thank you” into the microphone and head to the side of the stage where everyone else stands.
“That was beautiful,” Dr. Kraus says when I reach him, and he pulls me into a hug.
I smile and wait for Danny to perform. He takes his position once called upon and reads a section from the beginning of his novel. I’ve gathered that it’s just before the big turning point happens, but he leaves us hanging when he stops right before a big action scene that’s sure to change the whole course of the novel. He also gets a well-deserved standing ovation before taking a spot next to Madison and me on the side.
Dr. Jones finishes her final remarks after the crowd dies down. When we are finally permitted to go back to our tables, I’m relieved. Everyone has returned to wandering the large room and mingling, so I don’t feel so awkward when everyone I invited stands and hugs me in one big group hug.
“I have a surprise for you,” Dallas says when he parks the car in the empty lot of the park, which has quickly become one of my favorite places. He opens my door and offers me his hand to step out.
“I’m in a dress,” I say, looking down at myself once I’m standing.
He tosses his suit coat onto my seat before shutting the door. I swallow, taking in the site of him when he turns.
“I know, just indulge me for a bit.” I roll my eyes but start walking toward that unmarked path. “Wait,” he says, grabbing for my hand. I spin around and furrow my brows. “Turn around but stay where you are.”
I cock my head, pausing a moment before deciding to listen. Once I’m staring at that path again, some shuffling starts behind me. I jump a little when I see both of Dallas’s arms come down around either side of my head. He holds his black tie sideways in both hands before everything goes dark, and he secures it around my head.
“What is happening?” I ask with a little giggle.
“You’ll see. Can you walk okay in those shoes?” he asks. When I nod, he says, “Okay. Stay close. I’ll tell you if you need to watch your step.”
He takes my hand in his and starts leading us toward what I’m assuming is the path. I gather my dress into my free hand when I hear the crunching of sticks beneath my heels. I follow his instructions as we make our way farther. I can tell when the clearing opens up because the breeze from the pond drifts lightly past us. He leads me a little farther before stopping.
“Hold on.” Cool night air hits my hand when he lets go. More shuffling of his feet sounds ahead of me before I can feel his body heat directly in front of me. “Ready?” he asks with both hands on either arm. I nod and he moves behind me. I feel his fingers wrap around the knot at the back of my head before he pulls the tie loose, and it falls from my eyes.
What I see before me almost makes me cry.