Got the Blues

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The odor of chalk, oranges, dust, and pencil shavings. Ah, parfum d’ scolarite. No one else had arrived, so Vin took a few minutes to arrange his notebook and pencil at the prof’s stand. A wad of chewing gum peered pinkly up at him from the podium. Classy, really classy. He snagged a battered piece of chalk and sketched quickly on the blackboard.

Welcome!

Agenda:

Call to disorder. Confirm officers. Attendees and contact lists. General bullshit. Coup. Counter coup. Counter counter coup. Call to order. Beer and pizza.

The door cracked open. A kid slipped in, letting the door hiss closed behind him. The underclassman was gangly, with a hint of acne dotted across his forehead. He didn’t meet Vin’s eyes, or look up at all. He slouched to the back of the room, threw his backpack on the floor, and dug through it for a battered paperback. The kid slumped low in his chair and ostensibly started reading. Freshman, Vin snickered inwardly. How cute.

“Hey there,” Vin said, because, obviously, he couldn’t resist poking. “Welcome to Rainbow Connections. I’m Vin Reyes, the club’s president.”

The kid jerked, stuck his thumb in his book, and sighed with dramatically appropriate reluctance. “Hey. Scott.” He muttered his name so quiet that Vin worried that he’d swallowed it. “Are you a grad student? I thought this was an undergrad club?”

Ugh. That. Inevitably someone noticed, though. “I failed kindergarten. Twice. Problem child. So, I’m a bit behind.”

“Oh.” The freshman disappeared behind his book again.

Vin set out the stacks of paper on the table: membership lists and contact information, committee sign-up sheets, copies of the first ever Connection newsletter—that had been Shan’s brainchild before she went off to grad school, but he hoped someone in Rainbow Connection had enough interest in continuing the notion. If not, it would end up being yet another item on his to-do list. With his senior year looming, Vin wasn’t sure he had the mental energy for any more projects.

A few of the regulars came in together, talking loudly. Jody squealed with excitement as soon as she saw Vin and bounced over to hug him. “Did you have a good summer? God, look at you, all organized and s**t. Someone might think you were in charge, Vinyl.” The boy in the back of the classroom coughed uncomfortably. Probably hiding a laugh. Vin touched the necklace that bore his mother’s engagement ring on it. His summer had been traumatizing, but he didn’t want to talk about that right now.

“I could abdicate and let you run the club this year,” he said, easily.

“No, no, I’m willing to wait. You’ll be gone soon enough and then me and Tamara will take over and rule, rule, I tell you. Mua ha ha!”

“Do I even wanna know why you’re practicing your evil laugh?” Beau skated in. He threw his pack on the floor under a chair in the front row, his impressive biceps flexing smoothly. His sweet, southern accent polished all his words until they were warm, fluffy, polite versions of their intended selves. Vin wasn’t sure Beau would ever master the sarcastic comment; his normal speaking tone was so adorable that it was hard as hell to tell when he was actually angry.

“She’s plotting to assassinate me and take over the club,” Vin lied.

“Well, then,” Beau said, pulling Vin into a swift embrace, “I should get my kisses in while I can.” Vin quivered under Beau’s powerful hands. Vin’s fingers tangled in Beau’s blond curls and he pulled his lover in for a kiss. Beau sneaked his tongue out, licked at the ticklish corner of Vin’s mouth and took full advantage when Vin gasped to plunder Vin’s mouth more fully.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Jody exclaimed. She inserted her hip between the two of them and twisted, pushing them apart. “I know you two got a fuckin’ room, so go—”

“f**k there?” An unfamiliar voice piped up into the conversation. Vin focused, still befuddled by Beau’s kisses. A new man had entered the room, Beau’s age, but not at all shy or nervous, and grinned at them.

“Something like that. Knock it off with the public displays.” Jody shook her finger at Vin.

“Not on my account, I hope,” the stranger said. He was watching Beau’s face with interest. “I was enjoying the show. Charles Allen. Transferred from University of Michigan.” He offered his hand to Beau first, which Beau shook. The newcomer was dark-skinned, with a crop of shiny black braids poking out from under his cap. He had a wide, eager smile, and those honey amber colored eyes that only black men seemed to have.

“Beau Watkins,” he said. “And my boyfriend, Vin Reyes, the club prez.”

“Gathered that,” Charles said. He hadn’t released Beau’s hand, the strong, dark fingers lingering. Vin raised an eyebrow. Beau went around the room, pointing and naming those he knew, gracefully removing his hand from Charles’s grasp without giving offense, as if he hadn’t even noticed the lingering caress. For all Vin knew, Beau hadn’t noticed, and it was only with jealous lover’s eyes that Vin was seeing an interest in his boyfriend.

The churn in his belly was familiar. He’d spent most of the last year watching Beau date other men up until Vin got stupid enough—or maybe just desperate enough—to blurt out the truth in a moment of weakness. Not that the results were bad, Vin chided himself, but his self-esteem had taken a knock by how ridiculously immature and uncool he’d acted.

“Where’s Ann-Marie?” Jody climbed up onto a chair to look around, as if she’d somehow missed the club’s treasurer. The room had filled up rapidly and the buzz of conversation was getting quite out of hand. Vin rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

“Late, I guess,” Vin said. “Get off the furniture.” He picked up the rainbow painted gavel, the red base chipped from use. “I call this meeting to disorder.”

The room did quiet down and Vin got on with the business at hand, namely getting everyone pointed in the same direction. Somewhat like herding jellyfish.

“For those of you who don’t know, I’m Vin Reyes, the president. This is Jody, our veep. The treasurer is—” he looked around, but no, Ann-Marie hadn’t made an appearance “—missing in action at present. Again. Didn’t this happen last year?”

“Ann-Marie is here,” someone piped up from the back.

“Yeah, I saw her yesterday,” Beau added, pulling out his phone and tapping on it thoughtfully.

“Well, I’ll just chat with her later. I know we sort of bullied her into the position last year and she may well be sick of it,” Vin said. “As most of you know, our officers are for the duration, unless they want to step down, or there’s a vote of no-confidence. Would any members from last year like to move for no-confidence?” No hands went up.

“Vin,” Jody said, “I’m still good for this year, but I need some help on the sunshine committee. My grades weren’t so hot last year, so I need to offload some of my responsibilities.” Jody flapped her hands in a meaningless gesture.

“All right then. I’m still up for staying in charge, but it’s my senior year. I can’t help out so much. Think about it, members. Who wants to be on the committee? It’s fun but also a load of responsibility, as you’ll soon figure out, and a big time commitment. Only volunteer if you can follow through.”

“Don’t even look at me, lover-boy,” Beau declared. His phone vibrated loudly across his desk and he snatched it up. “Crap. Vin, I gotta go.”

Vin raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll explain later. Have a good meeting. Sign me up for the homecoming float committee,” Beau shouted over his shoulder as he fled the room. The door swung closed behind him and Vin heard the sounds of his sneakers hitting the shabby linoleum in the hallway. Beau was moving at a dead run.

“Well, that was exciting,” he said, frowning, trying to brush off his worry. “So, basic membership stuff. Dues are expected to be paid in by the fourth meeting. Members in good standing can vote in meetings. All members can participate in committees. The float’s actually fun.”

Charles, the transfer student, looked up with interest. “What makes a member in good standing?” Someone, probably Zach, snickered and made some rude and sexually explicit comment in the back of the room. His friends cackled appreciatively and were abruptly quieted by Jody’s spearing glance. Damn, Vin thought, he wished he could duplicate that thousand yard stare of hers. She was good at maintaining order.

“Dues paid, mostly,” Jody said. “And if you’ve been on a committee or held an officer position, you have to have not f****d it up.”

“And dues are?” Charles asked, again, oh so polite. Vin was really starting to not like this guy. And it wasn’t just because he’d showed uncommon interest in Beau. Hell, if Vin hated everyone who showed interest in Beau, he’d hate nearly everyone.

“Due in a month,” Vin said. He worked hard to unclench his jaw because he knew exactly where this was going and for reasons best left unexamined, he wasn’t happy about it. “Ten dollars for the semester, or fifteen for the whole year. Payable to the treasurer, who is, unfortunately, not here this evening.”

“Sure I’ll manage to find her,” Charles said, dropping a wink and a grin. Vin pried his fingers off the podium before the cheap pine crumbled under his grip. Well, no, that wouldn’t really happen; he didn’t have the right angle for that, and the wood was pressurized. He composed in his head the equation of how many pounds of pressure it would take to actually gouge a chunk out of the podium. By the time he’d finished the calculations, his fingers were unlocked. He cracked his knuckles.

“Very well, then. Don’t forget to sign up for a committee. We have homecoming float, alum donations, sunshine committee, guests and socials, study groups, and connections. Also, I’m looking for someone to take over the newsletter; Shannon Zuniga started it before she graduated, but I think it’s a great idea and I’d like to see it move forward. Sign up sheets are on the desk. Beau’s head of the float committee, which is just what it says it is, building the Homecoming Float. If the other committee heads will take turns and explain what their committee does and if they especially need help?”

Vin sat down for a bit, hiding behind the podium, and collected himself. As president, he was rarely a permanent member of any committee, but floated around as people needed an extra pair of hands. Andrew got up and as usual, talked for at least ten minutes about the study groups and how they were arranged without saying a damn useful word. No one else wanted to work his committee, never mind lead it, so while Andrew was the worst student ever—he’d been on the committee since before Vin was a freshman and probably wasn’t any closer to graduating now than he had been three years ago—he remained head of the study groups. Perhaps, Vin thought, unkindly, he would get his degree in organizing study groups.

His phone buzzed and Vin pulled it out of his back pocket to peer at the message.

Beau: AM says shes still treas. Shan calld. Come over here after?

Vin: Bring coffee?

Beau: She says vodka?

Vin: Bad news?

Beau: Yea.

The deadly silence held for a moment before Vin realized and hastily put his phone down. “Oh, sorry, was that to me?”

Jody’s frown might have killed him if he wasn’t already worried. As it was, he waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “Any old business from last year?”

No…great. He checked the clock, only half an hour had passed. Good enough. “New business?”

“No? Great. I call this meeting to order.” He slammed the gavel down on the podium. Another chip of red paint lodged itself in the cheap wood. He was going to have to get a new gavel soon. He wondered if he could get someone to paint it up like a giant d**k. That would be amusing. Cynthia was an art student, wasn’t she? Never mind, she probably wouldn’t think it was funny. Or maybe she would. Couldn’t hurt to ask.

A shuffle of people moved up to look at the committee signup sheets. A few jotted their names down; the transfer student, Charles, signed up for the float committee. Damn it.

Vin piled up his paperwork and pencils, ordering them neatly and placing them in his bag; not his normal habit. He was slovenly by nature and that had been reinforced by maids and household help. He usually grabbed everything, stuffed it in his bag, and if something got wrinkled or torn, so be it.

But he dallied long enough that the room was almost empty by the time he left.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look for you,” Jody observed. She lingered just outside the door.

“It’s that obvious?” Vin didn’t bother to lie. He knew what he was.

“I saw it a fair bit last year, too.” She stared directly at him. “Beau loves you. We all know that. Don’t f**k it up by being petty.”

“Tryin’ not to.” He gestured grandly for her to precede him, which she did, down the hall. Vin reached past her to press the elevator button. The elevator was occupied; mutual survival instinct made them both stop their conversation until they exited the building.

“You’re a good man, King,” she said. “Now, what the hell is up with Ann-Marie?”

Vin shrugged. “I’ll know in a bit, I guess. Beau’s over at her dorm now. Said to bring vodka, which is completely unlike him, so it must be for her.”

“Shan.” Jody said, nodding her head knowingly.

“You know something I don’t?”

“You want me to make you a list? That might take a while.”

“Smart ass,” Vin said, shoving her playfully off the sidewalk. She increased her step and bumped him off the other side.

Jody walked with him to the grocery store to grab a bottle of vodka (she picked up a diet soda and a candy bar, and then kicked Vin in the leg when he pointed out how stupid that was) and most of the way to Ann-Marie’s building, then declined to go any further. “If she’d wanted an audience, she’d have come to the meeting. Good luck.”

“With what?”

“Not being an asshole.”

Vin pondered that on his way up six flights of stairs—half the elevators on campus were out this year, something about not passing inspections and twenty year old maintenance records going missing, which was another reason to continue to live off-campus. He didn’t think he was really prone to assholery, and if he was jealous it was only a sting and nothing to concern him overly much. After all, his relationship with Beau was going well, and he was relatively happy. And Beau, despite his frequent protests when Vin bought him gifts, seemed content. Therefore, nothing to worry about, right?

He knocked, then opened the door without waiting for an invitation.

At which point, Vin immediately reassessed his opinion about having nothing to worry about.

Ann-Marie was crying.