by T. A. Foster
I wrapped my friends in a big circle hug.
“Sure. Whatever you need me to do, but this girl is not going to be in Betray Me.”
***
I walked out of the theater basement for possibly the last time as an actress. It felt good. I looked over at the planetarium building across the parking lot. I hid an inner giggle, thinking about the burning picnic basket on the roof. Since January, I had experienced more Carolina moments with Beau than I had in the previous three and a half years on my own. Sure, I had dated. I even had a few boyfriends over the semesters, but the artistic type are moody at times, and like me, they just wanted to go to the theater, film festivals, and rent classic movies. For the first time, I was a stereotypical, normal, everyday Carolina student—and it was awesome.
I texted Beau on my way to Hamilton Hall. Surely, he was finished with his drunken exam. I couldn’t wait to tell him about my decision.
Are you done?
Yep. Just waiting on a pretty girl.
He always had the best texts. I sighed.
He was leaning against the handrail when I walked into his view. My first instinct was to run and jump into his muscular arms, but this damn charade we had created for class kept me from doing anything that looked like a girl in love. In love?
“How was the exam?” I stayed a few feet away.
“Nailed it.” He was oozing with confidence or maybe some leftover drunkenness.
“Really?” I didn’t believe him.
“Why not. I know all the details about Pearl Harbor. I even wrote an essay about Japanese concentration camps in the U.S. I think I filled the entire blue book.”
“I’m impressed, but let’s see what your grade is before you declare drunk exam taking as your next best idea.”
“You just wait, London. I got an A on that exam.”
“What do you want to do now?” It was getting dark and campus was quiet.
“I’m not about to lose this buzz. Let’s go to He’s Not and get a blue cup.” He started walking toward Franklin Street.
“Blue cup?”
Even slightly tipsy, Beau stopped in his tracks and turned toward me in a perfect swivel. “Don’t tell me. You’ve never had a blue cup?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Nope.”
“All right, girl. You are lucky you met me. If you haven’t been indoctrinated into beer drinking at He’s Not Here, world famous Franklin Street bar, we have our work cut out for us tonight.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me down the brick sidewalk. I didn’t point out that we were in the middle of campus and shouldn’t be holding hands. His palm felt warm in my clasp. I let Beau lead me to one more experience I needed to check off my list. “He’s Not, here we come.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My bed was littered with scraps of paper. I had easily written down twenty casting call opportunities in L.A. and then balled them up. Nothing felt right about any of the parts. I wasn’t so naïve to believe I would land a break out role in my first acting gig, but I couldn’t relate to any of the characters. It probably wasn’t helping that all I could think about was Beau and what he was doing right now. He still had a full semester of classes, exams to study for, and papers to write.
Beau let me plan this Saturday’s date. I felt so disconnected from Love Match and everything Victoria was going through on the show since my week away at spring break. The reality was, in some weird way, she and I were going through the same thing. While she was dating seven guys at a time, I was doing my best to date one and pretend to the world that what I was feeling wasn’t real. But everything about Beau and me was real.
When I saw her first date of the episode, I knew it would be perfect for us. Victoria and one of the unsuspecting bachelors were driven by limo to a recording studio, where they spent two hours receiving voice lessons with Victoria’s favorite singer. Once the quickie rehearsal was over, the bachelor sang his heart out in an attempt to get a rose at the end of the date. It was a date to the sudden death. If Victoria didn’t like the recording, he was sent packing. If she did, she would give him a rose and they would head on to the second part of the date.
Nina started throwing things at the TV when the bachelor didn’t make the cut. She might be a fan of the show, but she didn’t like Victoria’s decisions about doling out roses. “He could sing. That was totally unfair. I don’t know why she didn’t give him a rose. They had chemistry. Anyone could see it.”
I watched as my roommate huffed at our mini flat panel. “Nina, if it’s not there, you can’t force it. Victoria likes the other guys better. Don’t you think it was nice of her to send him home before things got any more serious?”
“Better? He was the cutest one on the show. It wasn’t nice at all.” My roommate was still appalled.
Now that I had quit Encore, I would be able to watch the rest of the season with Beau. At least he didn’t throw things at the TV, and I was sure he could care less who Victoria picked in the end.
I pulled my car in front of Beau’s apartment building. His motorcycle was parked in a tight corner spot. I had never seen where he lived. It was hard not to be completely curious.
I knocked on the door of apartment 202. Through the door, I heard a loud, “Yeah?” I listened for footsteps and knocked again. “Come in!” That definitely wasn’t Beau’s voice.
Timidly, I turned the handle and cracked the door enough to peek in. Sitting on the couch were two guys, intently glued to the TV. Each one had a controller in his hand.
“Dude, that was badass!”
“No shit.”
I cleared my throat, nervous I might be in the wrong apartment. They looked up from the game.
“Oh, are you Paris?” the one on the left asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Nah, man, that’s Sydney.” I recognized the second one from the night at the planetarium. He had let us in the side entrance.
Before I could come back with a witty retort, Beau walked down the hall and into view.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in.” He smiled, and I reminded myself not to be anything but casual in front of his roommates.
“Yeah, I just got here. I was going to introduce myself to your roommates.”
The Xbox junkies barely glanced up when Beau entered the room. “We met Dakota already.”
“It’s London, you jackasses.” Beau stood in front of the TV, blocking their view.
“Man, get out of the way.” The one on the left looked angry. “We said hi to her.” I recognized both of them from the Belize Facebook pictures. I wasn’t a fan.
“Beau, it’s no big deal. I get that all the time. The funny what-city-are-you-named-after joke. Hilarious.”
He gave me an apologetic shoulder shrug. “Ok, let’s go.”
Neither one of us even bothered to say good-bye.
“Sorry about them. Russ and Chip aren’t always dicks. They’re good guys.” Beau ushered me down the stairs and to my car.
“I’m sure they’re nice…sometimes.” The roommates didn’t impress me. Didn’t one of them have a girlfriend who watched Love Match? I was having a hard time seeing either one of them in a relationship. It made me a little nervous about Beau. Why would he live with those guys?
I pulled the seat belt across my chest, but before I could fasten it, Beau’s hands were on my face and he was pulling me across the console.
“I hate not being able to kiss you,” he whispered as his mouth landed on mine.
I fisted my hands in his hair and succeeded in uttering, “Me too.” Kissing him was like feeling breathless and whole at the same time.
“Ok.” He pulled back. I really didn’t want him to stop. “Now you can drive.” He had a wicked smiled on his face. “Where are you taking me on this date?”
I put the car in reverse. “You’re going to hate it at first, but I promise it will be fun. You’ll see.”
He groaned. “Oh no. I think I know what it is.”
***
Date Six: Layin
g Down the Hits
The recording studio was surprisingly busy for a Saturday night. There was a birthday party for a ten-year-old girl ahead of us. The giggling girls reminded me of a party I went to at that age. They were covered in glitter and boas.
Beau slouched as far as he could in the seat while he flipped through the song list. Admittedly, being surrounded by a pack of squealing girls was not the plan I had for this part of the date, but this was for the blog. I had a surprise part two after we recorded our song.
The girls skipped into an open studio. I brushed off the seat and watched the glitter flutter in the air around me. “Did you pick a song yet?”
“I’m still looking through the options of self-humiliation. I can’t believe you are getting me to sing again. Can we skip this part? Why don’t you record something and I’ll listen on this side of the glass?”
“That’s no fun. Sing with me. It’s exactly like the Love Match date, only this is a sure thing. I promise to give you a rose if you sing.”
He placed the binder next to him and leaned dangerously close to me. I felt my heart race when he stared at me with an intense, lustful gaze. “Sure thing?”
I bit down on my lip. Beau was making me come undone right here in the studio waiting room. “Yes. Sure thing.”
“Next! Your studio is waiting. Room B.” A large man appeared from the control room and pointed us in the direction of the padded room.
Beau casually strolled into the studio, leaving me to regain my composure. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull off the second part of the date he really wanted, but I did know there was no way I was going to let him down.
“London? You coming?” He stood in the doorway.
“Yep.” I hopped up from my seat and met him in the recording booth.
“I have the perfect song for us.” He pointed to one of the titles in the binder.
The man on the other side of the glass flipped the microphone switch so he could talk to us. “Ok. I have your song cued. You can do two run throughs and then we record it. Any questions?”
I pulled the headphones on over my ears and gave the operator a thumbs up. We were ready.
Beau adjusted his headset and winked at me. I was glad he was having fun with the date. We stumbled through the first take. I kept trying to match the pitch in his voice, and he was trying to keep up with the lyric placement. Singing without backup vocals is hard to do. By the third take, we nailed it.
“That’s a wrap. Wait in the lounge and I’ll have your CD ready in five minutes.” The voice boomed in the quiet studio.
Beau reached for my hand and led me to the waiting area. He took any chance he had to touch me.
“I have an awesome idea for the track.” He looked excited.
“What do you mean?”
“I can put it on the blog with this week’s post. Before you know it, we’ll have ten thousand downloads.”
That damn blog. I didn’t really want to share the song with the whole campus or as Professor Garcia had mentioned, the country. I still hadn’t mentioned my conversation with our wacky professor to Beau. She canceled class Thursday, claiming she had the flu. It bought me another few days before I had to give her an answer about publishing the research. I was going to have to approach the impossible situation with him later tonight, before he distracted me with all his seductive tactics.
“London? Hello? You look like you’re a million miles away.”
“Sorry. Thinking about the blog.”
“We don’t have to post the song if you don’t want to. I thought it added another element for us.”
“No. No, it’s a great idea, but I do need to talk to you about class.”
“Ok. What’s up? You look serious.”
The door opened to the control room and the burly man shoved a CD in Beau’s hand. “Here you go. It’s a good song. You two aren’t bad together.” He patted Beau on the back before shuttling another group into Studio B.
“Can we get out of here? I want my rose now.” His hand found the curve above my hip and he planted his arm around my waist.
“Yes. I have more planned.” I smiled at him. “Let’s go.”
***
I couldn’t believe how dark it was at Kenan Stadium. It was the beginning of spring, so the football stadium wasn’t being used for anything, but still I thought there would be some kind of lighting.
We pushed on the chain-link gate and walked into the concrete corridor. It was eerie how quiet the complex was at night.
“What part of Victoria’s date is this?” Beau asked over my shoulder.
I turned to face him. “This isn’t a Love Match date. This is our date.” He grinned at me; he was catching on. “Follow me.”
In less than two months, we would be walking these same stairs and taking our seats in the bleachers for graduation. Tonight, I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen in May. I only wanted to be with Beau.
We took the steps down to the field level and passed through the manicured hedges that bordered the football field. I read the numbered lines running across the grass until we reached the center. Before I picked Beau up tonight, I had stashed a small blanket in my bag just for this moment. I retrieved the blanket and pressed the corners, flattening it into the fifty-yard line.
“Last time I tried this, the guard at Gimghoul Castle ran us off. What do you think the chances are we can actually sit here on the fifty-yard line and do some stargazing?”
Beau laughed as he sat next to me. “You are better at checking things off my list than I am. Stargazing at Kenan?”
“That’s not all. I brought drinks.” I reached into my bag and pulled out two beers.
“Is that like a Mary Poppins bag or something? You can fit anything in there.” Beau lifted the corner and peered into the side pocket.
“No. I just know how to pack.”
“We have to make a toast.” He raised the glass bottle in my direction. “To Carolina nights.”
I smiled and let my bottle tap his before taking a sip.
From where we sat, the sky looked like it was littered with diamonds. They stretched from one end zone to the other. It was a new moon, giving us the perfect night to find constellations.
“Now, about that rose.” His seductive eyes were watching me squirm.
Beau wedged his beer into a patch of grass. His eyes looked hungrily at my mouth. With an unexpected fierceness, he lunged at me, sending me back on the blanket. I threw my arms around his neck as his lips took mine. So much for stargazing.
He paused, letting his hands trace the edges of my face. “London, I can’t keep my hands off you. This project is going to kill me.” My body bowed toward him as he playfully nipped at my neck with his teeth. “I want it to be over so we can stop sneaking around. I want to touch you whenever I want.”
Project. Shit. I still hadn’t told him what was going on. “Beau, we need to talk about the project.” It was barely a whisper.
His hand cupped my bottom and he squeezed until I was pressed against the center of his body. “Just kiss me, London. We can talk later.”
As he brushed his lips over mine until my mouth parted for him, he worked the zipper down on my jeans so his hand could slip between my legs. I groaned. We could definitely talk later.
***
It was after two before I pulled into the driveway. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling pieces of grass out of the long strands. I giggled. I closed the front door behind me. The lights in the house were off as usual, but the TV was on. I glanced around the room before I saw the huge moving mound on the couch. Oh no. Someone was under there.
I held my breath and tiptoed across the floor. Maybe if I were quiet enough, whoever was under the blanket pile wouldn’t know I was home. No need to embarrass one of my roommates and her guest.
I had just made it to the kitchen when I heard, “Nina, someone’s in here.” I scuttled to the wall so that I could stay out of view. My heart was racing.
>
“Derek, you’re crazy. Don’t stop.” Nina’s voice was low and husky.
Quickly, I darted into my room before I heard another breathy movement. Ick. I muffled my laughter as I gently turned the handle on my bedroom door. Well, she had finally done it. Sunday breakfast was going to be interesting in our house.
CHAPTER TWELVE