Change Of Season (41 page)

Veronica had won the trophy, the garish music note on a pedestal swinging at her side in her clenched fist.  She’d had fierce competition from the Vocal program near the end, but ultimately, the difficulty of her number had clinched it. 

“So we’re going to hang out in Athletics, right?” Veronica asked.

Evan nodded.  “Yep.  You’ve got ten to change so we can make it before anyone busts us.”

Autumn laughed.  “You’re asking a lot of her, Evan.”

“Oh shut up!  I’m not that bad!”  As Autumn and Evan shared conspiratorial winks, Veronica stomped her foot.  “I’m not!  Besides, I laid out clothes before I left.”

Evan kissed her head gently.  “Oh hush.  It’s a joke.  But ten minutes, ladies.”

Slipping inside the ajar stairwell, the two of them jogged upstairs, parting ways at the second floor with a promise to meet downstairs in five.  Autumn wasn’t worried – she had mentally chosen her jeans and sweater on the walk back.  Keys jingling, she unlocked her room, her right foot slipping forward as she entered. 

“What the hell?” 

Flipping on the lights, she immediately noticed her desk chair in the centre of the room – Nikki’s latest trick.  Too pressed for time to care, she glanced down by her foot in search of the mystery hazard.

A plain white envelope.  Her name was on it.

Puzzled and harried, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground.  She had four minutes to change.  The envelope was portable, and could therefore wait.  Tugging on her jeans and a soft black sweater, she pocketed her phone and slid into her winter coat before snatching the envelope from the ground and jamming it in her pocket.

Veronica was still changing as she met the group outside, her breath clouding the inky sky.  Leaning against the brick wall, she pulled the envelope from her pocket, tearing it open while Evan, Keenan and Dora traded complaints about their upcoming finals.  Inside, she found a folded page.

Autumn,

You were wonderful tonight.  Your voice is gorgeous.  I meant to tell you in person, but I froze and retreated to my room, as I always do.  It’s been a personal prison for a while now.  This whole campus has been a prison, really.  I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.  Many of them are exaggerated, but you’re wise enough to sort out fact and fiction.

I miss you.  It seems so strange to confess this, given our brief friendship, but it’s truthful.  You get me in a way no one really does around here.  I know that someone’s hurt you deeply.  I know you need to find your way through that.  I’ve had to make my own journey back from hell.  I just want you to know that you don’t have to be alone.  Either way, I’m here when you want me to be. 

You’re worth waiting for.

Andrew

His words echoed in her skull as she fought the urge to cry. 
You’re worth waiting for
.  His belief in her shook her foundation.  Folding the paper gently, she tucked it into her back pocket, avoiding Evan’s pointed look.

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Veronica joined them at last,  apologizing profusely as she tucked her hair beneath the hood of her jacket.  Evan, however, continued to stare.

“Autumn, I’m not buying it.”

“Evan.”  It was a plea.  One falling on deaf, big brotherly ears.

“What’s up?” Veronica’s arm cradled her shoulder.  “Tell me.”

“Something she read upset her,” Evan said.

“Not upset,” Autumn murmured. “Overwhelmed.”

What to do?  Did she write him back?  Seek him out tomorrow in his editing suite?

“Autumn?” Veronica shook her gently, pressing her palm to her forehead.  “You feel warm.”

Time to dance
.  With a soft smile, Autumn nodded.

“I need your help.”

***

Ten minutes later, her wish was granted.  It came in the form of a stuffy janitor’s closet and baited breath while her accomplice went to work.  In her hand, she clutched a folded square of white paper.  Her totem. 

A hushed conversation beyond the steel door sent her heart careening against her ribs.  Straining her ears, she fought to make out what was being said, to no avail. 

Faith
. 
Gotta have faith.

The door opened, Autumn startling as Evan greeted her, bemused.  “Yeesh! This was your idea.”

“Screw you!”  Tucking the paper back in her pocket, she tapped her foot nervously.  “Well?”

“Any minute.”  Footsteps on a nearby stairwell drew Evan’s gaze and he nodded.  “My cue.  Goodnight, little sister.” He tousled her hair gently before slipping out the side exit, leaving her alone in the basement corridor.

No, not alone
.  The footsteps rounded the corner landing and she bit her lip, waiting to be caught.

“Evan?  Where did you… Autumn?”

Andrew froze three steps above her, hands thrust deep inside the pockets of an oversized sweatshirt.  His confused expression quickly shifted to one of concern. 

“Hi, Andrew.” 

One step.  Two.  And they were standing two feet apart now. 

“What’s wrong?”

In answer, Autumn pulled the folded square from her pocket.  Recognition gave way to anxiety.

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered.  “That was so pushy of me.  I promised you space and-”

“Andrew, stop.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he continued.  “I admit, I’m a little drunk, so judgments aren’t my strong suit tonight.  Can you forgive me?”

Her fingers gently pressed to his lips, silencing him.  Couldn’t he see?  Couldn’t he hear the fluttering wings? 

“I’m not mad.  Please, this is so hard. Listen?”

He nodded, shuddering beneath her touch.  They were both ruled by fear, slaves to their past.  Heavy burdens no one should bear.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, holding up the square.  “You singing two songs I love?  Also beautiful.  Kind.  I’m a writer and words fail me now.  Then again, I’m intoxicated too.”

He smiled as her hand fell from his face.  She returned to the folded square, thumbing the crease.  The wings grew louder.  They were joyful, a far cry from  the bees that swarmed her and dragged her down.  Resurrection.

“I’m not angry,” she repeated emphatically.  “I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you with my distance.  I regret every moment of sadness you’ve experienced because of me.”

“Autumn, it’s okay-”

“It’s not.”  She shook her head sadly.  “It’s not.  But it’s not all my fault.  That I do understand.”

Andrew edged forward tentatively, studying her.  What knowledge did he seek?  She would answer him almost anything. 

“I don’t want to talk about what happened.  Not yet,” she added.  “I don’t know how long the whole process will take.  I don’t know a lot of things right now.”  Tucking the paper back in her pocket, she continued.  “I do know that you are beautiful.  Patient.  Safe.  That I fell asleep in your company.  That you protect me when people who remind me of people I long to forget are around.  That you make me laugh.  What I need to know… is whether you can accept all of this in one complicated, girl-shaped package.”

Her body tensed, eyes slamming shut. 
Please tell me I understand him.
Her cards were thrown on the table. 
All in
. 

His hand found hers, fingers interlacing.  “I already do.”

A sob ripped from her throat, and he whispered her name, promised she was okay.  She wasn’t – but she was safe.  For now.

“Can I hug you?”

She fell into his arms, inhaling his scent – gingerbread and fireplace embers.  Warmth. 

“I’m so scared,” she confessed.

“Me too.”

His hand was in her hair, gently toying with her curls.  It reminded her of her mother and watching movies together when she was small.  She sighed into his chest, forcing herself to breathe. 
In and out.  In and out
.  His arms were sturdy, but not tight.  Supportive.  Home.

“What are we?” she asked, pulling back to face him.

“What can we be?”

“Answering a question with a question is hardly fair,” she countered.

Andrew shrugged.  “I just… I don’t want to push.  I will wait.  You don’t have to-”

“But I already am.  Denying it’s breaking my heart.”

He loved her.  It was written all over his face.  And she was free-falling right behind him.

“Together, then?” 

She nodded. 
I want my life back.  I want you.

A slamming door on the floor above shattered the mood.  With a gasp, Autumn tapped Andrew’s arm, seeking answers.

“Fucking don,” he grumbled.  “In here!”

Her old friend, the janitor’s closet, awaited.  This time, it was far less lonely.  The narrow space forced them together, rammed between shelves of toilet paper and cleaning supplies.  The unwanted guest moved down the stairs, slippered feet slapping along the concrete, coming to a halt scant feet away. 

“Who’s down here? Hello?”

Her heart pounded, visions of detention with Logan flooding her mind. 
Go away
, she prayed. 
I just got my weekend privileges back
.  The man continued past the closet, moving further down the hall towards the laundry room and its tunnel access – undoubtedly known to him as a former student.  And if he knew of that, then surely he’d examine this closet, too.

If she was going to face the punishment, she might as well fully enjoy the crime.

Her lips found his in the dark, arms wrapping around his neck.  His hands gripped her hips as they ignited, hidden in a tiny room scented in orange peel and bleach.   Frenetic yet gentle, their kisses melted into each other, the two of them oblivious to the monitor’s departure for the upper floor.  It was romantic in its own way.  It was strange, unexpected.

It was perfectly them.

“You should go before you’re caught,” Andrew murmured, pulling back slightly.

“I guess.” 
Or we could kiss all night
.  She was suddenly feeling bold.  Or perhaps she feared this was a dream, one she dared not wake up from.

“We can meet tomorrow.”

“I’m home for the weekend,” she said.  “Late return Sunday.”

In the darkness she could faintly discern a pout.  “Monday?”

“Definitely.”

The door opened slowly, Andrew scanning the hallways before pulling her from the closet.  “Should I walk you back?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Andrew frowned.  “Text me when you get there?”

Autumn nodded, pulling out her phone.  “Program yourself in.”

His fingers flew over the keys as she recalled the feel of his arms around her.  Chills of the pleasant variety ran up her spine.  So much, so fast… But was it really?  And did it matter in the end?  The heart will want what it wants.  Why deny its hunger?

“There.”  He passed her phone back, smiling.  “Please text.  I won’t sleep until you do.”

“I promise.”  With a hesitant look to her right, she frowned.  “Monday.”

He walked her to the door, holding it open as an icy wind blasted their faces.  With a final, light kiss, she murmured her goodbyes, heading out into the night.

“Autumn?”

She spun around at the urgency in his voice.  “What?”

“I’d almost forgotten what happiness felt like, before you.”  He was sheepish, but sincere. 

She flushed, shaking her head.  “Stop stealing my thoughts.”

Now it was he who turned red.  “Second bush to the right.”

“And straight on ‘til Ashbury.”  She giggled quietly.  “Goodnight.”

Her feet skirted the ground, or so it seemed, as she trekked back to her dorm, slipping inside her room seconds before she heard their dorm mother’s creaking steps on the ground level.  Kicking off her shoes and jeans, she slid beneath the blankets in darkness, yanking them over her head before texting Andrew.

Safe and sound
.

A minute passed, then her phone beeped.

Please stay that way. 

She tapped a sleepy reply, her eyelids heavy.

Thank you for waiting
.

A beep.

I’ve been waiting for 18 years to meet someone like you. A few more weeks wasn’t a lot to ask
.

Shaking her head, she replied.

You’re exaggerating
. 
But sweet
.

A beep. 

I’m socially awkward as all hell, but honest to a fault.  Sleep well, Autumn.

Phone clutched in hand, she did just that, dreaming of gentle arms shielding her from stormy nights and lurking shadows.