Chapter Nineteen -- Pride, Prejudice And Other Demons
"So, are you going to tell me how it went?" Maddox eyed him carefully from time to time, as he still needed to keep his eyes on the road, which was a blessing in disguise.
Rusty placed the card carefully on the dashboard and leaned back. Even the interior of the car was luxurious and it made him low-key envious that he didn't have a boyfriend like Jonathan. Not because he was loaded, but because it was more than a nice gesture to receive a thoughtful gift like this. He had overheard Jonathan explaining to Kane how he had done some serious research on what a young man in finance should drive.
People never thought that much about him. Sure, Maddox was his bestie, and Jonathan showed his good intentions all the time, but Rusty believed that when dealing with most people it was better if their interest remained superficial. Anyone trying to get to know him better than his persona -- carefully crafted, if anyone was asking -- made him feel like he needed to draw the bridge and let them swim around in the moat until they got bored. They should be thankful that he hadn't thought of adding sharks as entertainment.
"She praised me and put me down at the same time," he explained in a low voice, as he looked out the car window, at the passing scenery. Too bad, he wouldn't be seeing the same places again.
"Okay, I can see why someone would do that to you. No offense," Maddox added, when Rusty looked at him with reproachful eyes. "Come on, man, you know what I mean. But let's hear it. Don't keep it bottled up inside. You know you never deal well with bottling up and the like."
Rusty sighed and closed his eyes. "She gave me some tests, asked me to sing different songs, just to gauge my range and stuff like that. And she thinks I have a wonderful voice, I kid you not, and that I can go from tenor to baritone with proper work and interest, because I'm that versatile."
"Tell me you didn't burst out laughing at that word."
"Is that how well you know me?" Rusty opened one eye to give Maddie his signature angry-pirate-who-lost-an-eye-fighting-a-whale look.
"Yes," Maddox replied, completely unfazed.
"I, like, chuckled. For a second, no more."
"Did she give you the evil eye for playing the fool?"
"No. She smiled. And that was worse, in a way."
"How come?"
Too bad the drive back to the campus took exactly as long as when they'd driven to see Mrs. May. "Well, you do know me," Rusty admitted. "So, when people are mean to me, I know how to handle them. I take all that meanness and wrap it around their necks like a scarf."
"How nice of you."
"Nope. It's like I wrap them in their mean scarves when it's more than one hundred degrees or so outside."
"Okay, so she wasn't mean. What was she? What did she tell you?"
"She started explaining how to control my breathing and stuff like that. Technical stuff, and she guided me through it."
"It sounds to me like you aced it. I know that if you put your mind to anything, you'll do it and surpass it."
Rusty took another deep breath. "Not this time. I swear, Maddie, Mrs. May must have spoken to your beloved Johnny because she told me something he also mentioned."
"What's that?"
"Tension," Rusty muttered under his breath and looked out the car window again, feeling sullen all of a sudden.
"What do you mean, tension? Those guys singing opera always look so stiff that I can only imagine what a feat it must be to get through it all. And they also manage to make all those faces at the same time. It must be hard."
"Well, yeah, but making all those faces is not hard for me. Letting go of the tension is. I don't even know what she's talking about. Or Jonathan. She said something to me like, 'Rusty, you must sing with joy, not all this fierceness' and, trust me, I can't."
Maddox remained silent for some time. "Maybe," he said cautiously, as if he was choosing each word carefully, "you could let go a little and, you know, show yourself. How you really are."
"Don't side with the enemy, Maddie," Rusty warned. "That tension, or whatever she says it is, is--" He stopped. Not even with Maddox could he be that honest. That tension was keeping him glued together. That wasn't something anyone else but he himself could understand. And not even he thought that he understood it all. He just depended on it, and it made him low-key annoyed when people saw it. First, Jonathan, and then, Mrs. Day. Was he starting to crack and unravel in places or something? No one was supposed to see it.
"Take the card back." They were at a stop, so Maddox reached for the thing and slapped it on Rusty's chest. "You're not getting out of this. You're going to see Mrs. May again."
"I don't think so," Rusty said stubbornly. He took the card from Maddox and ripped it in two.
Maddox gave him a startled look. Then, he wrenched the two halves from his hand and pushed them into his pocket. "I think I'll keep this for you. Until you stop acting like a mule."
"Good luck with that." Rusty snorted and turned his back to Maddox.
At least, his bestie knew when to shut up. Yeah, he was pissed. She had seen right through him and advised him to come back when he realized what was more important than keeping up an act that wasn't him. Francine must have talked to her, warned her somehow.
And that made him a bit angry. Even though he knew both of them were right.
***
Matty and Zoey snuck through the rows of attendees in search of some empty seats, and it looked like their only choice was to sit in the front, barely one foot or so away from the speaker. At first, Matty didn't even recognize Connor Williams. The guy must have gone to one of those TV shows, specializing in makeovers, because he didn't look one ounce like he used to. Gone were the billowy flowery shirts and the hippie hair, the colorful bracelets, even the fake benevolent gaze he had used to bestow upon lesser mortals.
For starters, he wore a suit and held his body in a rigid posture, his hands resting on his claimed pulpit while only his eyes moved, inspecting the crowd that still had a hard time settling down, like seals on an iceberg. His hair was cut short and fashioned Γ la military reject, and the pretended well-meant look had been replaced by a harsh glint speaking of a lack of forgiveness.
"That's quite the transformation," Matty whispered to Zoey.
"I told you. He's gone one-eighty. Actually, I think he's spinning off of his axis. But let's hear him first."
Matty couldn't agree more. Something astonishing was in the works, and they basically had front row seats to it. To say that he was curious would be a major understatement.
Finally, it looked like the easily inconvenienced seals had found their places and after Connor coughed loudly a couple of times to get the attention of the interested attendees, a silence fell over the room.
"Fellow students," Connor began and consulted the papers in front of him briefly with an important frown, "I am glad to see you here in such large numbers. That gives me hope for the future of Sunny Hill." A pause for effect followed, as another look at the papers that had to contain the secret to eternal life by how carefully he thumbed them from time to time. "Did you know that we are the 348th college in the country? 348," he pronounced slowly. "That's our place."