Being There

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Being There Page 3

by T. K. Rapp


  “Kat, I think that is a great idea,” then turning to me finished, “don’t worry, you’ll have everything you need, and there will also be someone from the boys varsity team to help out as well.”

  “Well, it was just a thought Coach, unless you want someone more experienced,” Kat interjected quickly, trying to sound innocent, but I knew the thoughts that were flitting through her senseless brain. If I weren’t so irritated, I would have laughed at the look on her face because it was apparent that she didn’t think her little ruse through. I may have been new to the team, but I knew the position was one that the upperclassmen should hold. Having a lowly sophomore from her team, work with a senior from the boy’s side would be sure to raise some questions about her abilities as team captain. This was supposed to be her show and if things didn’t go well, that wouldn’t look good for her.

  Coach P looked at me, then turned to Kat, “I think you are right, Smith, this is a great idea, and from what I’ve heard, Howard is perfect for the job.” She turned to walk back to the box she had dropped and gave me the smallest of a smile.

  Yes, I thought to myself, I like Coach P.

  A few days and numerous rounds of phone tag later, I had arranged to meet my committee counterpart from the boys’ team. I had been surprised that I would be working with another sophomore, but even more shocked that it was Drew Alexander. When he entered the room, he carried himself as though he was expecting me to ogle him. His swagger made me aware of his ego and if that didn’t, his casual demeanor sure did and I didn’t know whether to laugh at him or be flattered. Instead, I ignored his act, because let’s face it; I was not exactly versed in all things guy.

  “So, I guess we’re partners,” he said raising his eyebrows.

  What an idiot.

  “I guess so. I’m Cassi,” I said as I stuck out my hand, hoping to show that I was not at all impressed by the likes of him. Instead of shaking my hand, he looked at it like I had a disease and it was apparent manners were lost on this guy.

  “Yeah, I know who you are, Prudence,” he said my name as though he knew it would annoy me.

  Why does everyone in here insist on calling me by my given name, I’ve gone by Cassi for years? “It’s Cassi, and how do you know my name?” I watched as he looked at me with amusement before he grinned.

  “You do realize that we have lived in the same town since we were kids, right?”

  If it wasn’t so annoying, I might have thought it nice that he knew who I was. Thing is, I had always been a wallflower, and there he was making fun of me. I thought I had done pretty well going relatively unnoticed throughout my academic career, but apparently not. My friends and I made up an odd group, and I felt like he was making a joke at my expense, which only caused me to become more defensive.

  “Yes, I know who you are, I’m not an idiot,” I started, “I just figured I’d introduce myself. I mean it’s not like we really know each other and I thought it would be nice to be polite.”

  He cocked his head as though studying me before deciding his next move. “Well then,” he stuck his hand out, “I’m Drew, and I guess this is a first.”

  “First?”

  He nod his head with confidence, “Normally the seniors are in charge of this, but Trevor assigned me as the guys’ lead and I know you’re a sophomore too, so how did you get sucked into it?”

  “Don’t ask,” I warned in irritation.

  He looked around the room like there was something hidden from him before continuing in a whisper, “So any idea what it is we’re supposed to do?”

  That was my cue; time to reveal the neurosis that was my organized-freak nature. Clearly a type A personality, of which I always attributed to my flighty parents, I knew that the moment he saw what I had in my bag, I would scare him away. I slowly pulled out the color-coded binder and watched, as his eyes grew big with confusion. “Whoa! I thought we were just in charge of entertainment,” he said, fear lacing his tone. “What the hell is all of that?”

  I was utterly embarrassed but the cards were on the table, and I had to explain. “We are, but I like things ordered, so I asked for all event details so that I could see what’s going on and plan accordingly.”

  “Okay,” he dragged out as he exhaled. Loudly, I might add.

  I jumped in quick to respond, seeing panic take over his features, “I can do this myself, if you have other things to do.” I was trying to be polite, hoping that he would see I was not as scary as I seemed but without a second thought, he jumped up.

  “Great!” He spoke up excitedly as he was leaving the room.

  I slumped in my seat, knowing the planning was going to be a handful and I was going to have no help. But just as he was about to exit, he looked over his shoulder and smiled, “I’m just kidding.” He walked back to the table and leaned on the edge, no doubt planning to insult me again. “I’m not sure I trust your judgment when it comes to music anyway. I think you need my help.”

  I rolled my eyes and I pushed a list over to him, which contained DJs, bands and music genres. “Well, here’s where we need to start then. What type of music do we want?”

  He took the list and started back for the door as I watched, “You coming or what? We have places to go, so let’s get a move on.” I decided to follow his lead out of the doors, not knowing much about my partner, other than the years of rumors attached to his name, let alone where we were heading next.

  I had known of Drew for years, but as kids, we never ran around in the same circles, but his reputation always preceded him. The legend that was Drew Alexander had only grown the older we got. Depending on the source, he was either a sixteen-year-old legend who could get any girl he wanted, or he was a complete asshole who treated girls like trash. Needless to say, I had never been one to champion one idea over the other, because there was no way we were ever going to be among the same group of friends anyway. But suddenly, I found myself tasked with working with the lothario extraordinaire and, despite my nuance of superiority, he made me a little nervous and I wasn’t sure what to do with that. I didn’t have the feelings of butterflies in my stomach or any of that crap, it was more concern that if he pissed me off, I might have to hit him and that would do nothing but cause me problems. I was just going to have to suck it up and work with him for this event and then we could go our separate ways.

  Drew drove the two of us around all afternoon so we could meet with potential entertainment for the Gala and I discovered he was easy enough to talk to, but it was clear that we didn’t have much in common, save for our rolls playing soccer.

  “Favorite band?” he had asked, while I changed his radio.

  “Today? Jet.” I had told him without thinking twice.

  “And tomorrow?”

  “Who knows? It all depends on my mood,” I stated flatly. It’s true, my music varied so much that I could barely keep up with it. I wasn’t into a specific genre, I either felt the music or I didn’t.

  “What about you,” I asked, deciding to attempt participating in a conversation with the guy.

  “I prefer the classics,” he said, before rattling off a few names. “Anything from The Beatles, Zeppelin, Dylan,” I returned my gaze out the window, watching the city pass by, “Nirvana.”

  “I hate to tell you, but Nirvana isn’t classic, yet” I said shaking my head, but never looking at him.

  “So you were listening?” He asked, impressed with himself to have garnered my attention.

  We decided to start our search with the DJs and after the first three, I mentally checked out. I was ready to forego music all together because each showed us video clips of events they had covered, and if I had to hear a snippet of the “Cha Cha Slide” one more time, I might have snapped. But the worst part was that not a single one of them knew when to shut the hell up. Why couldn’t they understand that people want to hear the music, not your ridiculous commentary? I think we were both so annoyed with the level of professionalism, not to mention that, if possible, each seemed to
be worst than the last, that we had to bail on the last guy in a hurry. Drew suggested we shelve the DJ option for a while and check a few of the bands that I found online.

  The bands were a much better option than the DJs. Most of them did covers of popular music and a few had some original work; those were the ones that impressed me the most. One in particular, Bare Wonder, had such an awesome set list that I would have booked them on the spot. Unfortunately, my partner didn’t feel the same way, although he wouldn’t explain why so instead we left telling them we would be in touch, which sounded like a terrible cliché. I just hoped they would still be available when the time came to book the talent.

  By the end of the day, I was not in the greatest of moods since we had spent hours running in circles. He hated just about anything I liked and vice versa and my frustration was rising. I was just about to give in and be done with all of it when he spoke up. “Why don’t we compromise?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked in a frustrated tone.

  “Compromise. You know, meet in the middle. Work out a deal. Compromise,” he said in rapid succession as if I was stupid.

  “I know what it means,” I informed him with irritation. “So what kind of compromise are you suggesting?” I furrowed my brow knowing I was not going to like what came next.

  “How about this? I’ll pick the DJ and you pick the band. We can have the DJ play in between the band’s sets so we’ll have music going continuously; it’s a win-win.” He shrugged as if it was the perfect solution and while I agreed, I pretended to mull it over and let him sweat it out. It was a compromise that I could live with since I was going to get the band that I really wanted. Besides, if we had music going nonstop, there wouldn’t be a lull in the evening and maybe guests would be more generous.

  “So what do you think?” He asked brightly.

  “Alright, deal.” I smiled with sincerity, for perhaps the first time since we teamed up earlier. Maybe working together on this wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, if he was this easy going, our partnership was sure to result in a pretty damn good fundraiser.

  Everything after that first day seemed to flow easily enough and somehow, we had taken over the planning for most of the event. Drew and I talked almost every day making sure that we had things covered. Every once in a while, we would have lunch together because we had practice after school and it was the only opportunity either of us had to exchange information. On the rare occasions we couldn’t manage that, we would end up on the phone for quite some time discussing the Gala, although those conversations usually steered to some banter about school, teammates or something else and I was surprised to find that he was pretty easy to talk to. The more I talked to him the more I grew to like him.

  We had worked day and night for three weeks straight to make everything come together for the big event. I never thought he would try as hard as he did, but he ended up having some great ideas, which I appreciated. He was my complete opposite, and somewhere along the way, with all the time we had to spend together, we became friends. None of the rumors I heard about him seemed to be all that true, despite the fact that he did seem to be a sweet talker where the girls were concerned.

  I was actually amazed at how easily it happened. We each had the other nailed pretty good, so he was forever trying to get me to come out of my shell, while I was knocking his arrogant ass down a few pegs. He seemed to think pretty highly of himself, although he might have just been pretending to keep up his reputation. The only drawback to the planning was that we had been so busy that we didn’t have time to find dates. Actually, I doubt he would have had a problem getting someone at the last minute, but since dating didn’t come so easy for me, I was probably in the same position either way. Alone, not that it bothered me. As it turned out, we were going to have to get to the event center early anyway to make sure that the setup went according to plan. Dates would have just been sitting around bored while we lined things up.

  Finding a date was the least of my concerns though, because I had yet to find a suitable dress for the event. The day before, I went to the mall and made a last ditch effort to buy the perfect little number. After trying on way too many dresses, I had emerged from the dressing room in a red dress to check myself out in front of the three-way mirrors when some girl I didn’t recognize gave me a tight shake. The leggy brunette walked over and stood behind me to join me looking at my reflection. “What look are you going for, exactly? Hooker chic?”

  “Excuse me? Do I know you?” I tried to go for a stuck up tone, but I think I came off sounding scared.

  “Nah, I just moved here. No offense, but you look tacky,” she said handing me a black dress, “try this one.” I timidly took the dress from her, unsure why I was even taking her advice, but something told me she wasn’t someone to mess with.

  “I’m Nevaeh,” she said as I walked back to the dressing room. “My friends back home call me Nev.”

  None of my friends had any sense of style, yet another reason we got along, I suppose because none of that stuff mattered to me. Yet, this girl was everything I wasn’t, edgy, confident and just plain ballsy. Who walks up to a total stranger and critiques their clothing choices? It’s not like I asked for her opinion. Apparently, she was someone who just didn’t care. But damn it if she wasn’t right! The dress she handed me was perfect, flattering but classy. When I walked out to get a better look in mirrors, she was still waiting, “Much better,” she commented with ease. “So, what’s the dress for?”

  “We have a gala tomorrow night for our booster club,” I said admiring my reflection.

  “So-” she drug until proper etiquette finally hit me.

  “Cassi,” I filled in, answering her question.

  She walked over and flipped at my hair before continuing, “Cassi, do you always wear a ponytail? I mean, it looks fine, but I think you need to do something else to go with that dress.”

  “I pretty much live in one,” I admitted with embarrassment. “Hair and makeup are somewhat low on my priority list between school and soccer.”

  “Well, I think you need to wear it down, let’s go check out some makeup and see what we can come up with, okay?”

  Who in the hell was this girl? There was something about her that I thought was so intriguing, I just had to follow to see what she would do next. We spent the remainder of the day talking about where she had moved from (Austin) and what grade she was in (same as me). Turned out that she would be attending Foster with me and just lived a few blocks away. By the end of the day, I enjoyed hanging out with her because she was sarcastic and witty, but seemed to be a genuinely nice person.

  “If you want me to, I can go to your house tomorrow night to do your hair and makeup,” she offered with confidence, and I knew then that there was something special about my newest friend.

  “Yeah, that sounds great,” I beamed, happy she offered, because I had no idea what to do with anything that she talked me into buying.

  The next night, the Gala was supposed to start at eight in the evening, so Nev said she would come by at five to help me get ready. If I were doing it alone, I would need just thirty minutes to get ready, so I was a little scared what she had planned for me, but she arrived on time and was ready to go. It took about an hour and half, but when I finally got to see myself, I was shocked because she had managed to fix me up, without turning me into someone else.

  My five foot six inch frame melded to the black dress like a second skin. I didn’t look slutty, but I thought I looked pretty sexy with my shoulder length brown hair down for a change. Nev had parted my hair to the side and rolled my hair into big curls and tousled it to make it look not so perfect and I loved it. It’s not something I would have been able to do myself, short of going to a hairdresser, so I was quite impressed with her natural ability. She had me sit on the vanity in my small bathroom to apply my makeup and I was intimidated because I was sure she was going to go overboard, but she surprised me when she said she was doing a smoky eye. I’d heard of it befo
re, but when I tried it on myself, I ended up looking like a clown, and not the girl who was modeling it in the magazine.

  When all was said and done, I looked like me, but maybe a little more polished and I liked it, which apparently that made my new friend quite happy. She stood back and admired her creation, “My work here is done.” She packed her things up and took off with instructions for me to call her the next day to let her know how everything went.

  I had my dad drop me at the event center at seven so I could make sure the setup was going okay. When I got out of his car, I ran to the bathroom for a quick check at my hair and makeup and was pleased to see all was still in order because the Texas humidity was sure to make my hair go flat and all of my eye makeup run. After running a hand through my hair, I made my way to the main hall to check all of the last minute details when I heard a low whistle from across the room. Never one to be on the receiving end of that sound, I kept about my business, until I heard him speak.

  “Just gonna ignore me?” I heard Drew call from across the room. I swung my head around to see him walking over to me with a smirk on his face. I took a moment to look him up and down from my safe distance as he sauntered in my direction. Black slacks with a white button down shirt was sexy, and even sexier when he opted to forego the tie and left the top button undone. He was carrying his coat draped casually over his forearm and he looked amazing. But there was no way I was going to tell him that.

  “What’s there to ignore? Did you say something?” I asked, trying to keep my head straight.

  “Not one for compliments, are you?” He asked as he approached my side.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, was that noise a compliment?” I asked him, emphasizing the last word.

  He laughed outright and shook his head, “Damn girl, you’re impossible to flatter.” He walked over to stand next to me and looked me over, and I felt awkward as he checked me out. “You look hot.”

 

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