Page 70 of Stutter

What a perfect fucking day.

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Much like the Annual Homecoming Ball, the Athletic Holiday Banquet is a lavish, gorgeous soiree, due to all athletic departments bringing in a bogus amount of money. Everyone from donors to the players, their parents and their significant others are here. It’s much more crowded than the ball was.

Like before, we go in separate vehicles, Jonas pulls the Audi up to the front of the roundabout and after opening my door and helping me out, he gives the keys to the valet person, and tugs down my lavender cloche hat I specially ordered from a boutique in New York, along with my flapper dress. The waist cropped and the hem short and of course, my gloves. The dress itself has crystals woven into it, making it shine and glitter in the light. I love it and Jonas has barely been able to keep his hands off me.

“This just goes to show baby, I would have loved you in any decade. You’re timeless.”

I blushed at his words, looking over at Damon who simply stood muted into place, desire in his glacier eyes melting me on the spot and Maverick? Did the same, although he looked a bit angry at first, like he was mad I wasn’t the one on his arm tonight. And that’s exactly what he admitted to before we left.

“One day Siren, we won’t have to hide, and I’ll be able to take you out without worrying about how it looks that I’m dating my student.” Then he kissed my jaw and walked away. Damon and Jonas agreed.

“That’d be… the cat’s… pajamas.” I grinned but a part of me was sad that I couldn’t incorporate an old transatlantic accent into my joke.

All of my men look fucking fantastic tonight. Each one in vintage tailored three-piece suits. Maverick in navy with a lavender tie and pocket square, Damon in black with the same color pocket square and silk tie, and Jonas in a charcoal suit with a lavender button up, but a grey and lilac silk tie and pocket square. They look delicious.

And all mine.

Before entering the dining hall, each side of the door has a blown-up picture of the Prescott twins and Dean Whitmore on easels. Candles are lit in memoriam, and we pause for a moment to pay our respects. Otherwise, well, it would look weird, wouldn’t it?

The dining hall is decorated in luxurious heavy gold drapes and curtains, large flamboyant crystal chandeliers hang, glittering in the light along with what looks like suspended bubbles in the air. There’s tall, ostrich feather centerpieces, clashes of silver and gold with black trim, and beads are scattered on every table and on the sides. There are sidebars full of food, and desserts, and fruits that are out of season – strawberries, grapes, mandarins, watermelon. It’s all so beautiful and light.

There’s a swing band playing, people dancing what they believe is the Charleston, and of course, so much schmoozing.

“Oh, there’s my mom. C’mon!” Jonas says, pulling me in the direction he saw Elena – Mr. Anderson nowhere to be seen. As though he’s read my mind, he says, “Dad went back to Singapore, remember baby?”

I nod as Elena takes me into her arms. “Oh! My darling girl you look so fabulous! I love this dress!”

I grin, wide, forming the words on my lips I practiced hours before in the mirror, knowing I would be seeing her tonight. I whisper in her ear, “You… look… b… beautiful.”

She gasps and I swear I see tears rim her eyes when she pulls away, but all she does is smile, not making it a big deal that I’m speaking, but she looks so proud. “Thank you, darling. This was my grandmother’s dress if you can believe it. Come, I found where we’re sitting.”

Elena and I sit on either side of Jonas. It just so happens to be where there’s a large table reserved for donors, MVP nominees and their families. So conveniently close to the one and only, Simon Hoover, and his wife, Clarissa, along with other members of the Syndicate. I don’t know them all, but the conversation seems to flow easily between them.

“Did it touch your strawberry?” I hear come from Simon as his wife tries to feed him a grape.

“No, I kept them all separated, look.”

I look at her plate, and yes, all of her fruits are in a different crystal bowl.

“Did you use a different utensil to scoop them?”

“Yes, babe. Oh my god. Relax.”

Simon, who is obviously handsome, dark eyes, brown haired, usually stoic makes a face. A totally unrelaxed face. “I think it’s just safer for me to not eat that. I mean, why would you even serve yourself strawberries?”

“As if you’re going to kiss me anyway?” She snaps back and the table grows quiet. She gives out a nervous chuckle and blushes something close to crimson, her brown eyes tearing up a bit. “I am so sorry. Heh. Excuse me.” Clarissa gets up from the table in a hurry and flies out of the dining hall.

Jonas and I give each other a look. His arm comes around me and he squeezes my hip when I relax into him. Simon eyes us, calling for the waiter handing out champagne and he take a glass, asking him to also, take away the bowls of fruit away to which he does, and Simon seems to forget about us, going back to the guy he was talking to. Roman… Rossi. I think that’s what his name is. He’s in my Music Theory class. I did not know he was an athlete. Roman throws a smile my way and Jonas tugs me closer, bringing his lips to my cheek and kissing me possessively.

Elena winks at me.

The lights dim down then go back up and the chattering cuts off, everyone giving Mr. Wilkerson, the dean interim, their full attention as he begins his speech. He goes off, talking about what a strange year it’s been, blah-blah-blah, thanking theschool board for voting him in as dean until it’s official. I don’t even know who this guy is. Does he teach here?

I catch Maverick leaning over to Damon at the far side of the room, Damon’s eyes widening and he looks back at Maverick, in what seems to be surprise. Hmm. I wonder what that’s about.

There’s feedback on the microphone that draws my attention back to the stage, and I’m just now really seeing all the trophies behind Coach Sutton. It feels like a blast from the past watching the older man step up to the stage. He looked so much younger six years ago when Axel and I were freshmen. He also drones on about the loss of the twins and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes when a screen comes down and he talks about how wonderful Chase was while showing pictures of him and Riordan in candid shots. Everyone in the room grows misty eyed.

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