Page 39 of Love Rewritten

“Of course. I’ll talk to you guys later,” my father says before holding his glass up in acknowledgment.

Once we’re far enough away, Abby leans up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” she says.

We find an open table to sit and eat our meals of chicken breast, potatoes, and veggies. Meredith joins us, sitting to the right of Abby. We’re about halfway through our food, making light conversation about everything besides the night's events—Abby’s request—when Rose joins us.

“Hey!” She hugs Abby and me before pausing at Meredith with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Rose, Dallas’s sister.”

Meredith quickly finishes chewing the food in her mouth to greet Rose. “Nice to meet you. I’m Meredith, Abby’s best friend.” They shake hands, but both their eyes and grasped hands linger a little longer than normal. Rose turns away a little flustered and sits down to my left.

Abby eyes me with a smirk so small that most people wouldn’t catch it. But I saw that look. And I knowexactlywhat just happened. The short exchange between Meredith and Rose is likely the same way I felt when I finally got toreallytalk to Abby that night in the bathroom at the party. My heart could have leaped out of my chest at that moment. I was trying so hard to play it cool.

Abby and I quickly finish our food and make up some bogus excuse as to why we need to leave them at the table. I think they’re too deep into whatever conversation they’re already having to notice we left.

“So, that’s a thing,” Abby says, that smirk still playing on her lips.

“You know? I’m not at all surprised.” We glance back at the table, and they’ve already moved next to each other, both looking as consumed in each other as ever.

Another hour passes. Abby keeps mostly quiet, only speaking when she’s spoken to. I didn’t expect anything more. A few of my father’s colleagues recognize me and that keeps us busy, talking about how I’ve been and what I plan to do with myself after college. As I’m in the middle of explaining my future position at the hospital, the orchestra slows their music until they come to a stop, and someone taps on the microphone on stage. Five people stand in a line. My father is one of them, standing at the end. A woman clears her throat before speaking. Everyone turns toward the stage, immediately falling silent.

“Good evening. I’m Dr. Stephanie Jones, head chairperson of the LAO. Thank you all for joining the Literary Ambassador Organization for tonight's award ceremony. We are glad so many of you could make it. If you could please find your seats so we can begin.” She pauses as everyone shuffles back to their respective tables. Dallas and I return to ours where Meredith and Rose have barely stopped talking through her announcement. Once most people have sat down, only a small line remaining at the bar, she starts again. “Thank you. Now, before we get to the awards, each of us would like to introduce you to the finalist and their submitted work. Then we will get to the awards, and finally, the top three placements will read a segment of their work, anything they choose.” She smiles, looking around the room at the heads turned toward her.

Abby’s head whips around to mine with horror in her eyes, and in a frantic whisper, she says, “Read? I might have to read my stuff? I can’t do that in front of all these people.”

Chapter 15

Abby

There’snowayI’llbe able to stand up there and read my work for this large of a crowd if I win anything. That was not stated in the invite. Maybe it was on the submission form that Dr. Kraus submitted for me. Either way, I think I might shrivel if I have to read anything. My stomach is tied in knots right now.

Dallas leans in, lips to my ear, and whispers, “You’ll be okay. I’m sure they won't force you if you don’t want to.” He squeezes my thigh before returning his attention to the stage. Just that little bit of encouragement is enough to steady my nerves, but his hand gripping my thigh, his mouth that close to my neck, his breath so warm against my skin all sets the rest of my body on fire.

“First, I want to give you a little history on the LAO.” Dr. Jones launches into what could be a dissertation of who started the organization and how they got where they are today. Apparently, they are the second largest organization at Oxly and have held the award for Best in Leadership for the past seven years.

When she finishes the history lesson, it seems I’m not the only one who has grown bored with it. The line at the bar is much longer than it was when she started, not that she seems to care what everyone else thinks. I’ll admit, I tuned out after a while, too.

“And that is how the LAO came to be.” She gives a wide smile like she’s proud of the boredom she created. “Now, let’s move on to what everyone is really here for, the awards!” Everyone perks up again as she continues. “Every year, each board member is invited to provide two submissions. Doing so gives us a wonderful selection of students, some new, some old, but all vastly unique in their skill sets. Here at Oxly, we pride ourselves on supporting students in ways that further their education. This year's top three finalists will be awarded scholarships for continuing their education.”

Scholarship? My heart almost stops at the mention of it. Not that I need one, but my mind instantly thinks of my mom. Would she be proud of me now? Would I finally make the cut as a satisfactory daughter? Maybe a first-place win would also make her happy. I’m not proud that that’s the first thing I think of. I force the thought away.

Dr. Jones motions for the rest of the board to stand. “If all nominees could please join us on stage and stand next to your respective nominator.”

I hesitate to get up, but Dallas squeezes the thigh he’s been resting his hand on again. “You’ll do great.” He kisses my cheek before I stand.

My steps toward and up the stage are a reluctant trudge until I stand between Dr. Kraus and his other nominee. She’s an older woman, maybe sixties, with heavily salt-and-peppered hair. She wears a pair of thin-rimmed glasses and smiles at me like a loving grandmother would to their grandchild.

“Good luck, dear,” she whispers when I look over. We’re the same height so she doesn’t have to bend down.

I smile back and say, “You, too.” My eyes frantically search the crowd for Dallas. All these eyes, though likely not solely on me, are dreadful. Invisibility sounds like a nice escape right about now.

Dr. Jones begins again. “Wonderful. I will have everyone introduce themselves and their submitted work, and then we can get on with the awards.”

Slowly, one by one, each person introduces themselves. The first girl is only a few years older than me, a graduate student working towards her doctorate, and her work is a poem. Another man, looking to be in his late twenties, also wrote a poem. Each person introduces themselves, and I realize that most people have submitted poems. I have not had much success with poems lately and now I’m feeling a little out of place. A girl about my age goes next, and she states she wrote a song she plans to play for everyone if she wins.

Dr. Kraus moves to the microphone and introduces himself. “Good evening. My name is Dr. Charles Kraus. I am the head of the Shakespeare department here at Oxly University, and, of course, a board member of the LAO. My two candidates are a special selection this year, both undergrads who have absolutely amazing talent.” He motions for the older woman to go first, and she happily takes her place in front of the microphone with a broad smile that crinkles her eyes at the corners.

“Hello, everyone!” she yells into the microphone and immediately pulls back when she realizes she doesn’t have to be so loud. “Apologies. My name is Sandy Landry. Fun name, I know.”

Landry? Could she be related to the owner of Landry’s Bar and Grill? I look at Dallas, who also has a curious look on his face. We eye each other, and he shrugs.

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