“What are you talking about? You have to calm down.”
“Professor Grant sent an email. Each of the teams from Brazil was picked up by their Journalism advisor’s stations for an exclusive spot.”
My head swims with this information, not sure I’m understanding. “It’s really early, the sun hasn’t even risen, and I’m an hour and a half from home. Think you can dumb that down for me?”
“It means you and the rest of the blue team will be doing an exclusive on Shana’s network station. My team will be on Bill’s. Same for the green and yellow teams.”
“You’re kidding!” I yell.
“No, hold on. There’s more.”
She reads the entire email to me, which includes a notic
e that the University will be doing an exposé on the Summer Expo in late January. There will be a formal opening of the exhibit, which will be featured through March.
The line goes quiet, but I hear the faint sound of her shallow breathing. I know immediately she’s holding something back. “Quinn?”
“My paper on the boxer from Canada is going to be the spotlighted exhibit. The whole red team will be noted, but it’s MY PAPER!” she screams.
“Oh, Quinn! No one deserves it more.”
She continues to rant for a few minutes, but her tone changes. I know what she’s thinking. “Go ahead and call Dean. He’s going to be thrilled…”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’ll be home soon. And let’s plan a celebration Thursday night.”
I drive the rest of the way home in silence, thinking of the changes coming.
By Thursday night, word has spread, and every student that went to Brazil meets up to celebrate. To top it off, the article was printed today, and the whole campus seems interested. The online comments have been complimentary, and the Alumni association has requested more information about the program. Professor Grant thinks this will bring in more funds and allow for more students to be accepted next year. He’s also going to present a proposal to allow for Graduate students to participate.
Most of us don’t have class tomorrow, since it was canceled, so the party is getting wild. Quinn hands me a shot of tequila, we toast with Crystal and then slam it back.
“Tell me why the hell I let you girls talk me into that nasty shit.” Crystal scowls and does a full body shiver.
“Suck it up, babe! If you’re gonna hang with the big girls, you gotta grow some balls.” Quinn throws an arm around her shoulders. “A few more shots and you’ll love it.”
I smile widely at Crystal. It’s been weeks since she came over and we spent the night reminiscing about her relationship with Morgan. She was shocked to hear my background with Bryce, unbelieving that I cut him out of my life. The one time she met him at brunch, she said it looked like we had been together forever. Quinn and I agreed, after she passed out, that she was our next matchmaking project.
We really didn’t get to do anything with Shana and Professor Grant, so Crystal was getting our attention.
I decline the next shot and sip my beer. Bryce hasn’t called or responded to my messages since lunchtime, and he usually calls before going to the gym. I check the phone again, and Quinn snatches it out of my hand.
“Stop it! He’ll be here in less than two days. Enjoy the party.”
“I am,” I insist.
She opens her mouth to argue when there’s a loud noise from the front. Jeremy Silver and a few others from our cheerleading crew come toward us.
“Nice article!” He takes me into his arms then spins me toward Roxy who is waiting.
The music starts, and Quinn drags Crystal and me to the dance floor. Soon, most of our group is dancing around. I get a sense of deja vu from our last party in Rio. This time, though, Hank is as far away from Quinn as possible. I point this out, and we both double over laughing.
The song ends, and instead of leading into another song, the DJ comes over the microphone. “Okay, all you Cavaliers, let me hear you!”
The whole place erupts in cheers and whistles.
“This crowd looks like it’s ready to kick some Tarheel ass this weekend!”