Shit.
Still no fucking answer!
At 10:00 precisely, there’s a knock on my door. It’s Taylor.
“Good morning,” I say, as he comes in.
“Mr. Grey.”
“How was yesterday?”
“Good, sir.” Taylor’s demeanor shifts, and his expression warms. He must be thinking of his daughter.
“Sophie?”
“She’s a doll, sir. And doing very well at school.”
“That’s great to hear.”
“The A3 will be in Portland later this afternoon.”
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
And though I’m loath to admit it, I’m anxious to see Miss Steele.
THE CHANCELLOR’S SECRETARY USHERS me into a small room adjacent to the WSU auditorium. She blushes, almost as much as a certain young woman I know intimately. There, in the greenroom, academics, administrative staff, and a few students are having pre-graduation coffee. Among them, to my surprise, is Katherine Kavanagh.
“Hi, Christian,” she says, strutting toward me with the confidence of the well-heeled. She’s in her graduation gown and appears cheerful enough; surely she’s seen Ana.
“Hi, Katherine. How are you?”
“You seem baffled to see me here,” she says, ignoring my greeting and sounding a little affronted. “I’m valedictorian. Didn’t Elliot tell you?”
“No, he didn’t.” We’re not in each other’s pockets, for Christ’s sake. “Congratulations,” I add as a courtesy.
“Thank you.” Her tone is clipped.
“Is Ana here?”
“Soon. She’s coming with her dad.”
“You saw her this morning?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I wanted to know if she made it home in that deathtrap she calls a car.”
“Wanda. She calls it Wanda. And yes, she did.” She gazes at me with a quizzical expression.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
At that point the chancellor joins us, and with a polite smile to Kavanagh, escorts me over to meet the other academics.
I’m relieved that Ana is in one piece, but pissed that she hasn’t replied to any of my messages.
It’s not a good sign.
But I don’t have long to dwell on this discouraging state of affairs—one of the faculty members announces it’s time to begin and herds us out into the corridor.
In a moment of weakness I try Ana’s phone once more. It goes straight to voice mail, and I’m interrupted by Kavanagh. “I’m looking forward to your commencement address,” she says as we walk down the hallway.
When we reach the auditorium I notice it’s larger than I expected, and packed. The audience, as one, rises and applauds as we file onto the stage. The clapping intensifies, then slowly subsides to an expectant buzz as everyone takes their seats.
Once the chancellor begins his welcome address I’m able to scan the room. The front rows are filled with students, in identical black-and-red WSU robes. Where is she? Methodically I inspect each row.
There you are.
I find her huddled in the second row. She’s alive. I feel foolish for expending so much anxiety and energy on her whereabouts last night and this morning. Her brilliant blue eyes are wide as they lock with mine, and she shifts in her seat, a slow flush coloring her cheeks.
Yes. I’ve found you. And you haven’t replied to my messages. She’s avoiding me and I’m pissed. Really pissed. Closing my eyes, I imagine dripping hot wax onto her breasts and her squirming beneath me. This has a radical effect on my body.
Shit.
Get it together, Grey.
Dismissing her from my mind, I marshal my lascivious thoughts and concentrate on the speeches.
Kavanagh gives an inspiring address about embracing opportunities—yes, carpe diem, Kate—and gets a rousing reception when she’s finished. She’s obviously smart and popular and confident. Not the shy and retiring wallflower that is the lovely Miss Steele. It really amazes me that these two are friends.
I hear my name announced; the chancellor has introduced me. I rise and approach the lectern. Showtime, Grey.
“I’m profoundly grateful and touched by the great compliment accorded to me by the authorities of WSU today. It offers me a rare opportunity to talk about the impressive work of the environmental sciences department here at the university. Our aim is to develop viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for third world countries; our ultimate goal is to help eradicate hunger and poverty across the globe. Over a billion people, mainly in sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia, and Latin America, live in abject poverty. Agricultural dysfunction is rife within these parts of the world, and the result is ecological and social destruction. I have known what it’s like to be profoundly hungry. This is a very personal journey for me.
“As partners, WSU and GEH have made tremendous progress in soil fertility and arable technology. We are pioneering low-input systems in developing countries, and our test sites have increased crop yields up to thirty percent per hectare. WSU has been instrumental in this fantastic achievement. And GEH is proud of those students who join us through internships to work at our test sites in Africa. The work they do there benefits the local communities and the students themselves. Together we can fight hunger and the abject poverty that blights these regions.
“But in this age of technological evolution, as the first world races ahead, widening the gap between the haves and the have-nots, it’s vital to remember that we must not squander the world’s finite resources. These resources are for all humanity, and we need to harness them, find ways of renewing them, and develop new solutions to feed our overpopulated planet.
Still no fucking answer!
At 10:00 precisely, there’s a knock on my door. It’s Taylor.
“Good morning,” I say, as he comes in.
“Mr. Grey.”
“How was yesterday?”
“Good, sir.” Taylor’s demeanor shifts, and his expression warms. He must be thinking of his daughter.
“Sophie?”
“She’s a doll, sir. And doing very well at school.”
“That’s great to hear.”
“The A3 will be in Portland later this afternoon.”
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
And though I’m loath to admit it, I’m anxious to see Miss Steele.
THE CHANCELLOR’S SECRETARY USHERS me into a small room adjacent to the WSU auditorium. She blushes, almost as much as a certain young woman I know intimately. There, in the greenroom, academics, administrative staff, and a few students are having pre-graduation coffee. Among them, to my surprise, is Katherine Kavanagh.
“Hi, Christian,” she says, strutting toward me with the confidence of the well-heeled. She’s in her graduation gown and appears cheerful enough; surely she’s seen Ana.
“Hi, Katherine. How are you?”
“You seem baffled to see me here,” she says, ignoring my greeting and sounding a little affronted. “I’m valedictorian. Didn’t Elliot tell you?”
“No, he didn’t.” We’re not in each other’s pockets, for Christ’s sake. “Congratulations,” I add as a courtesy.
“Thank you.” Her tone is clipped.
“Is Ana here?”
“Soon. She’s coming with her dad.”
“You saw her this morning?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I wanted to know if she made it home in that deathtrap she calls a car.”
“Wanda. She calls it Wanda. And yes, she did.” She gazes at me with a quizzical expression.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
At that point the chancellor joins us, and with a polite smile to Kavanagh, escorts me over to meet the other academics.
I’m relieved that Ana is in one piece, but pissed that she hasn’t replied to any of my messages.
It’s not a good sign.
But I don’t have long to dwell on this discouraging state of affairs—one of the faculty members announces it’s time to begin and herds us out into the corridor.
In a moment of weakness I try Ana’s phone once more. It goes straight to voice mail, and I’m interrupted by Kavanagh. “I’m looking forward to your commencement address,” she says as we walk down the hallway.
When we reach the auditorium I notice it’s larger than I expected, and packed. The audience, as one, rises and applauds as we file onto the stage. The clapping intensifies, then slowly subsides to an expectant buzz as everyone takes their seats.
Once the chancellor begins his welcome address I’m able to scan the room. The front rows are filled with students, in identical black-and-red WSU robes. Where is she? Methodically I inspect each row.
There you are.
I find her huddled in the second row. She’s alive. I feel foolish for expending so much anxiety and energy on her whereabouts last night and this morning. Her brilliant blue eyes are wide as they lock with mine, and she shifts in her seat, a slow flush coloring her cheeks.
Yes. I’ve found you. And you haven’t replied to my messages. She’s avoiding me and I’m pissed. Really pissed. Closing my eyes, I imagine dripping hot wax onto her breasts and her squirming beneath me. This has a radical effect on my body.
Shit.
Get it together, Grey.
Dismissing her from my mind, I marshal my lascivious thoughts and concentrate on the speeches.
Kavanagh gives an inspiring address about embracing opportunities—yes, carpe diem, Kate—and gets a rousing reception when she’s finished. She’s obviously smart and popular and confident. Not the shy and retiring wallflower that is the lovely Miss Steele. It really amazes me that these two are friends.
I hear my name announced; the chancellor has introduced me. I rise and approach the lectern. Showtime, Grey.
“I’m profoundly grateful and touched by the great compliment accorded to me by the authorities of WSU today. It offers me a rare opportunity to talk about the impressive work of the environmental sciences department here at the university. Our aim is to develop viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for third world countries; our ultimate goal is to help eradicate hunger and poverty across the globe. Over a billion people, mainly in sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia, and Latin America, live in abject poverty. Agricultural dysfunction is rife within these parts of the world, and the result is ecological and social destruction. I have known what it’s like to be profoundly hungry. This is a very personal journey for me.
“As partners, WSU and GEH have made tremendous progress in soil fertility and arable technology. We are pioneering low-input systems in developing countries, and our test sites have increased crop yields up to thirty percent per hectare. WSU has been instrumental in this fantastic achievement. And GEH is proud of those students who join us through internships to work at our test sites in Africa. The work they do there benefits the local communities and the students themselves. Together we can fight hunger and the abject poverty that blights these regions.
“But in this age of technological evolution, as the first world races ahead, widening the gap between the haves and the have-nots, it’s vital to remember that we must not squander the world’s finite resources. These resources are for all humanity, and we need to harness them, find ways of renewing them, and develop new solutions to feed our overpopulated planet.
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