Page 40 of Queen of Ruin

“I want to be inspired,” I blurt, and it feels like I’m giving away a part of myself, something I don’t give to anyone, because no one had ever asked.

“And were you inspired today?” he challenges, and perhaps I’m the only one who notices, but the golds and greens of his eyes are hungry for my answer, eager for me to admit that I was indeed inspired because it would please him.

“Yes,” I answer honestly, and I’m rewarded with a bashful smile; a pleased smile.

“I think you have a fan,” Senator Langley notices, and I quickly school my expression.

“If you were the literature teacher, it would be the most popular class on campus,” I insist.

Senator Langley laughs, clapping Kerry’s shoulder just like he did earlier. “If politics doesn’t work out, you seem to have a teaching career in your future.” The table erupts into easy laughter, and whatever anxiety I had felt earlier about whether I belonged here or not is ebbed away by it. It’s not often I have a table full of powerful men eager to hear what I have to say. I quite like it. It’s fueling something inside of me to want more out of life.

“So tell me, what issues does your demographic face these days?” Senator Walker queries.

I sit up a little straighter, my confidence having been stoked by their attentiveness.

“I don’t think I’m the average college student you expected,” I offer, “other than having to worry about student debt, I’m a twenty-year-old female who struggles to pay for college, and an ailing grandmother with expensive prescription medications, not to mention elderly care – good elderly care – is astronomical.”

Kerry clears his throat. “Mary, did you get all that?” he asks, and Mary hurriedly pulls out her notepad, writing things down.

“You don’t have to…”

“I asked because I wanted to know.”

I nod.

Kerry sets down his pizza, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Well, this is uh,” he pauses as if searching for the right words.

“Not very good pizza?” I offer, because Arizona is not known for great pizza.

Kerry laughs. “No, it’s not.”

“You should have asked me and I would have directed you to the best taco stand in town,” I tease.

“Well, I’ll have to remember for next time.” He pushes his plate away and then takes a sip of his beer.

Next time? Does he plan on coming back? I can’t help that the thought of it causes a thrill to run through me.

I don’t know much about politics, but I wonder why a Senator from Virginia would be visiting an Arizona University.

Is he positioning himself to run for President?

My attention is pulled away from my inner thoughts when I hear Senator Langley ask Kerry, “How is it you know Miss Bowen again?”

He offers an answer that I didn’t expect, and it comes out so effortlessly that it doesn’t feel like a lie, and even though I know it is, it feels like the truth.

“She’s a friend of my son Darren’s,” he explains without missing a beat, and I can feel something in the pit of my stomach, something wrong and hollow, but when I look up, I can see the regret in his eyes. Kerry is a Senator and I’m a student; more importantly, I’m a young, female student. There can’t be any misunderstanding. No matter how innocently we met, it would seem odd that he would invite me to dinner if he didn’t previously know me.

Senator Langley looks at me expectantly as if I’m supposed to elaborate, but my mouth is clamped shut.

“Well, hopefully she influences him to carry your torch for Emerson,” Senator Langley laughs, holding out his hand to me. “It was lovely meeting you Miss Bowen.” He smiles, kissing my knuckles, and even though it’s a polite gesture, there’s something behind his smile that doesn’t feel right. He releases me and says his goodbyes while I gather my things.

We linger on the sidewalk; Mary, Senator Walker, and his security man that waits by a black sedan at the curb.

“I’ll be a few minutes, Bailey,” Kerry says, and Bailey steps away to stand near the car.

Mary excuses herself, telling me how wonderful it was to meet me in such a genuine way that she leaves me blushing. She doesn’t get into the black sedan ,but another car I didn’t notice parked behind it. I am fully aware that it’s just Kerry and I on the street, the spring Arizona heat curling the hairs on the back of my neck.

“Thank you for indulging me this evening. You made this old man feel important,” he says kindly.

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