Walking the Crimson Road

by Perrie Patterson

  Our parents drop us off at the house after dinner. My parents go back to their hotel so they can drive back to Atlanta first thing in the morning. Before we say good night, we make plans to go to church with Bella’s family.

  When we get back to the room Bella asks, “So, was this a first date with Lane today?”

  “I guess we could call it the first official one. Being with Lane is easy. I don’t feel guilty like I did before. I’m glad I had the talk with Grant about my feelings, but my heart hurts a little to think about it. When I’m with Lane, it’s like I’m in a bubble with just him, each moment is perfect. It’s hard to explain.

  Bella looks at me funny, like whatever and doesn’t say anything. I look at the clock. It’s only 8:30, but Bella looks like she is done for the night, putting on her pajamas and making hot chocolate.

  “Do you want some hot chocolate? We can chill and watch Netflix,” she asks while stirring her cup.

  “I kinda wanna watch, but I kinda wanna see Lane.”

  I send Lane a text and let him know I’m back from dinner. His texts back immediately. I’ll walk over and get you if u feel like hanging out for a while tonight.

  Since I’m still dressed, I text him back. I’d love to. I look over at Bella sipping her hot chocolate.

  “I’m going to hang out with Lane, but you go ahead and watch the next episode of Stranger Things.”

  A few minutes later Lane texts me saying he’s outside. I grab my coat and practically hop downstairs and out the door. When he sees me, his face lights up with that perfect smile of his. He’s wearing a long black wool coat, with a plaid Burberry scarf and perfect hair. I walk up to him all smiles. He leans down and touches my nose with his and takes my hand. We walk along the sidewalk over to the DKE house, laughing and talking.

  We go around to the back of the house and in through the back door. Outside, leaning against the house, are pieces of their Homecoming float. The sign on it says, “The Road to Success Is Paved in Crimson,” but it’s been rained on. Now it looks like it’s written in blood. We walk inside. Loud music greets us, and the party’s in full swing.

  We walk down a hallway that leads to another, opening into a larger room where most of the party people are hanging out. Lane greets everyone as we walk past, and in the distance, I see the girl that I’ve seen Lane with several times. She’s talking with several other girls and doesn’t see us. We walk into a smaller room that looks like either an office or a small study. It has a fireplace on one wall. A bay window on the far wall overlooks a corner of the lawn. Lane walks over to light the fireplace and then goes to a mini bar and asks if I’d like a drink. He returns to me with the drinks in his hands, and we sit on a couch near the fire.

  He hands me my water and says, “I’ll be flying to New York on Monday afternoon and will fly back here on Sunday.”

  He takes a sip of his drink and sets it down.

  “I plan to get back late on December 2nd, too. But I won’t be able to leave until Wednesday, due to the afternoon basketball game.”

  “Tell me again about your family’s Thanksgiving plans.”

  “We’re going to Cumberland Island, off the coast of Georgia, to a resort called the Greyfield Inn. My mother’s birthday falls on Thanksgiving this year, and she wanted us to spend the holiday there.”

  “I remember now. I’ve heard of Cumberland Island and The Greyfield Inn.”

  I think it seems strange that someone from New York would know about Cumberland Island, which is an uninhabited island that one can only get to by ferry off the coast of South Georgia, but whatever.

  “This will be my first visit there. How do you know about it? It’s pretty exclusive and remote, just a small island. You have to take a ferry to get there.”

  “A family member of mine had a book or an album where they’d taken a trip there a long time ago. It’s a very beautiful and special place. I think you and your family will really enjoy it.”

  “Will your family be going anywhere on Thanksgiving?”

  “We always have a family reunion during the week of Thanksgiving. There’ll be lots of extended family gatherings that I’ll have to attend.”

  “Tell me a little about your family,” I ask, getting comfortable and kicking off my boots.

  “I have three sisters, all older. The youngest of the three is Megan. She’s working on her law degree and just started her second year of law school at Yale. My oldest sister is married and has two small children. She has twins that are six years old, and her name is Renee, her husband is Matt. My middle sister graduated from Brown, and now she works as a publicist for a publishing company in New York. Her name is Macy. She recently got engaged, and they’ll have their wedding in June.”

  “Wow, you were surrounded by girls growing up.”

  “Yes, but I have lots of uncles and male cousins, and I spent a lot of time with them sailing, skiing and camping over the years.” He gets up to poke the fire.

  “Does your family live in Manhattan?”

  “Yes, but we moved there from the Washington, DC area when I was about eleven.”

  He sets the fire poker down, and we stretch out on the couch and get comfortable. I put my legs across his lap, and he notices my socks with puppies on them.

  “I have a thing for cute socks.” I laugh.

  After a few minutes of chilling and chatting, he begins to massage my calf muscles, and I’m finding it sexy and relaxing. He pulls me in close and kisses me, and I’m lost in the feeling. Time stops, and all I’m able to think, do or feel is all wrapped up in kissing Lane. It’s like a drug. He’s an amazing kisser, either naturally or just very experienced, whichever doesn’t matter, because it’s so perfect. He’s so perfect. It becomes very passionate, and I have to stop to catch my breath. Both of us are caught up in the moment. I sit up and lean into his chest and hold him, kissing him along his neck.

  “It may be time for me to get back to the house,” I say, because I realize this could have easily gone beyond my comfort zone.

  He looks at me, smiles and kisses the top of my head.

  “Yes, it’s probably time to get you back.”

  He picks up my coat and helps me put it on. We walk out the front door, and I glance at my phone to see how late it is. The party at the house is still going, and I wonder how anyone sleeps on nights like these at a frat house. It’s after midnight and cold as we’re walking back, and I’m kinda wishing we’d taken his car. The Phi Mu house is a welcome sight. We walk to the door, and he kisses me on the cheek. I close my eyes and drink it in. I open my eyes, knowing I’m grinning so hard my face hurts. I kiss him again and pull him in tight. He kisses me back with heated passion then pulls away and whispers, “Sweet dreams, sweet Rebecca” and turns to leave. I stand there starring at him dreamily until he’s out of sight. Then I run into the house and up to my floor.

  Back in the room, I set an alarm in order to get Bella and me up and ready when her parents pick us up for church in the morning. She must have fallen asleep watching Stranger Things since her laptop is sitting next to her. I close the computer and set it on her desk. Then I get ready for bed and fall asleep dreaming of a certain New Yorker.

  After a great morning at church and brunch with Bella’s family, I call Cat to see if I can come over to the Tri Delta house and pass out surveys for my article in Alice magazine. I know she’s getting packed up to leave for Thanksgiving either today or tomorrow. She doesn't have too far to drive to get home like Bella does. But I don’t want to keep her from getting things done.

  I run over to Tri Delta with my folder of surveys and pass out fourteen of them. Cat and the other girls gather for a staged photo in front of the TV with a Netflix show of their choice on the screen. After snapping photos and collecting the surveys, I thank Cat and give her a big hug wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving. I finish my surveys at a dorm across campus, where I find another ten people to fill out my poll. I stage a few photos of them in the living room of their dorm in front of
the TV set to the show of their choice. I jot down a few names before stuffing the papers into my folder and head home. Back at Phi Mu, I see Amanda just as I walk in.

  “Hey, Bex, if you want a ride to practice, you need to hurry.”

  “OMG, I zoned out and forgot about practice. Let me grab my bag,” I tell her as I shoot up the stairs.

  I burst into the room to find Bella getting ready to leave for band practice. I grab my stuff, say bye and run out the door.

  As we are driving over to Coleman, Amanda says, “I know you’re dating Lane.”

  I don’t look at her, but I mumble, “Yeah. I really like him, Amanda, and so far, he’s been the perfect gentleman.”

  She doesn’t say anything else about it though the mood in the car is off. I don’t think she liked my answer.

  After practice we talk about our plans for Thanksgiving. She’s super excited, to be able to get away for a few days to see family in Dallas.

  When I get back to the room, Bella has her suitcase out and has started packing. I sit on my bed to organize and count my surveys. I get a text. Thinking it’s from Lane, I excitedly pick up my phone, but it’s from Mom saying they’ve gotten a flight out of Birmingham for Wednesday evening at 7:55 p.m. to Fernandina Beach, which is where we’ll catch the ferry on Thursday morning taking us to the Greyfield Inn.

  Sounds good. I’ll c u guys on Wednesday.

  I go back to work organizing information for my article, crop the pictures I took and upload some things to my computer. Bella finishes packing, zips her bag and groans. “I need to set an early alarm to get up and leave when my parents arrive,” she says, changing into her Pj’s.

  “I’ll definitely get up and walk you downstairs in the morning,” I say cheerily.

  Tired from working on my article, I flip off the light and fall asleep while planning an idea for a new vlog post.

  21

  #Slay

  My master plan today is to go to Phifer Hall to work on my magazine article in the lab. Most classes have been canceled for today and tomorrow, but I’m still waiting for an email from Professor Brigg about our creative writing class. Since I don’t have to be anywhere early this morning, I’m still chillin’ in my Pj’s. Bella’s packed and ready to leave for Louisiana. Lexi and her parents left yesterday afternoon. The rest of the week will be quiet around here since most people have already left for Thanksgiving.

  When Bella’s family arrives, I walk with her downstairs and help by carrying one of her bags. When I get back upstairs, I think about crawling into bed for a few more minutes and almost do until my phone dings a text. My heart skips a beat as I read it. Hey gorgeous, I’m missing u this morning. How about we grab a coffee before I fly out?

  Yes, I want to see u too.

  Cool, I’ll pick u up in 30.

  I run to the shower and get in and out in five minutes. I look around the room for my books and files on my article and stuff them into my bag with my computer. Just as I’m putting those into my backpack, my phone dings. It’s Lane letting me know he’s outside.

  Brisk cold air grips me when I walk out the door. I’m glad it’s not raining, but the cold air tells me winter is approaching as I walk toward the car. Lane sees me, jumps out, greets me with a kiss and opens the door. The car is warm, and the smell of beautiful leather is familiar. Lane smells amazing. I put my hand on his knee as we drive to the coffee shop. When we stop at a red light, he picks up my hand and kisses it softly.

  “The one by the outdoor plaza has good coffee and breakfast,” Lane says, glancing at me and still holding my hand.

  “Yes, I know the one,” I respond. “I usually try to avoid that area because of all the cute shops. I know if I go inside one, I’ll probably end up buying something,” I say giving him a grin.

  The coffee shop is quiet, peaceful, and almost deserted when we walk in. I order a chi tea latte and banana bread. Lane orders an Espresso and a bagel. We grab a table by the window.

  “My flight leaves at 2:30, so I have a few hours.”

  “Not if you have to drive to Birmingham. Unless you’re taking me with you, and I don’t know it yet?” I say, tilting my head toward him and batting my eyelashes.

  “I wish I could take you with me. I’m flying out of Tuscaloosa on a private plane straight into JFK, and I’ll have a car waiting.”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded, and say, “Wow, that must be nice.”

  Lane gives me a bit of a cocky smile, reaches across the table and takes my hand and caresses my fingers with his thumb.

  “It looks like you have your computer with you. I need to show you something on it, and I want to ask you to do something for me.”

  “Sure.” I pull my computer out of my bag and link to the store’s WiFi.

  He pulls his chair around next to mine. I breathe in his cologne, and for a brief moment I think I’ve slipped into heaven. He asks if he can type on it. I smile at him dreamily and slide the computer in front of him. He says he is typing on a secure secret site and pulls up a Twitter account. He says this is a special account no one can trace and can only be pulled up from a computer.

  “This is the anonymous account that will be used for promoting the SGA candidate, and it’s the Twitter that all the Greek houses follow. I want to show you how to log in and tell you the password. The password will need to be changed every few weeks. You can only share it with me.”

  He explains he wants me to run promotional tweets on our SGA candidate from now until the election. Then he says there’s also a private log-in for an Instagram account which is anonymous, as well.

  I remember this being mentioned during the secret society meeting. I’m a bit surprised he’s trusting me with this important task but thrilled he does.

  “The Instagram account will also need to be logged in from a computer, and the password will need to be changed every few weeks. This will keep the posts from location traces.”

  He explains the accounts need to remain anonymous, and all Instagram photos, posts, sayings, and images need to reflect positive Greek life as well as positive promotion of our Student Government candidate.

  “We need to tag all fifty-seven sororities and fraternities in the post. Is this something you think you’ll be able to handle?”

  “Of course, not a problem,” I say, trying to sound assured of my abilities on social media and secret accounts. Creative media is my major. I don’t say I would do anything for him, but at this point I’m so ga- ga over him he could ask me to do anything.

  “I can certainly run a Twitter and an Instagram for the SGA candidate we’re promoting for election. I don’t mind at all, I’m glad to help,” I say, beaming.

  “The most important thing is that these accounts remain secret and completely anonymous.”

  “I understand. I’ll keep everything under wraps.”

  “Besides the promotional information that will be posted to the accounts, we’ll also post party announcements. Those parties will include a free open bar and chance to meet the candidate. Once we’re back from Thanksgiving, I’ll give you the date and location for that event so it can be promoted.”

  He shows me how to keep passwords on an app in my phone and reminds me again to change the password for both accounts every two weeks. I tell him it won’t be a problem for me to keep it secret. When I log out, I notice an email from Professor Brigg, so I open that before I close the computer.

  “Hey, there’s an email from Professor Brigg,” I say, and I read it aloud.

  “Tuesday classes this week have been cancelled. I hope everyone has a happy and safe Thanksgiving holiday. Please work on your final assignment. These are to be submitted online to my class link no later than December 30th. This is not only your final grade for my class for this semester, but I will be selecting one story to be submitted to The New Yorker. I’ve worked something out with the editors at The New Yorker as well as the opportunity to be published in our very own campus magazine Alice. I can assure you there will be muc
h publicity that will go with having your story selected.” It’s signed RB. After reading the email, I look at Lane.

  “Wow, that would be awesome to have a story published in The New Yorker. Someone’s career would be on fire after that.”

  He laughs and says, “Bex, you need to write a good story.”

  “I haven’t even thought about what I’ll write about yet, have you?”

  Lane shakes his head. “I’ve thought of a few ideas, but that’s about it.”

  While I’m packing up my computer I mention, “I still have to finish my assignment for Alice and get it turned in over Thanksgiving. In fact, I’m going to the writing lab over in Phifer, and I’ll be there most of the day working on that.”

  Lane looks at his watch. “I hate to leave, but I need to get you back so I can catch my plane.” We walk to his car, hand-in-hand. He opens the passenger door for me, and I set my bag down. He pulls me close, and I turn to face him. He kisses me gently on the lips, pulls the scarf from around his neck, and wraps it around mine.

  “Something to remember me by.”

  “I’ve admired you wearing this scarf, and I love it.”

  “Keep it safe for me until I see you again.”

  I’m smiling from ear to ear as I get in the car. We drive back toward campus with “Too Damn Young” by Luke Bryan playing on the radio, and I sing along. It’s a sexy song about two teenagers in love. Lane picks up my hand and kisses it and says, “You can dance, sing, and you’re beautiful, a true triple threat.”

  I giggle. “I’m really going to miss you. Who’s going to flatter me and make me feel like a movie star over the holiday?”

  This comment makes him laugh, and he reaches over and squeezes my knee.

  When he pulls the car up to the front steps of Phifer Hall, he leans toward me and we kiss sweetly for a few minutes. He pulls away, smiling a perfectly beautiful smile.