Professor Kaya, when she finally returned from her long beach weekend, would find the Arts Consortium thoroughly established. At least for the summer session.
The students and teachers had melded, each person approving of the other’s perspective and personality almost immediately. Even Polly was doing well. Her water color class was popular. Everyone traded experiences, and seemingly respected and appreciated one another. They listened and watched; discovered and wondered. They danced, sang, painted, worked, and played. All in harmony within two days.
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Between scheduled classes, they formed small groups that recombined easily and often. Angelina was delighted. Trevor practically expected it. Brian was amazed and panic stricken. Starting so high and tight, the Consortium could only fall—down and apart.
On their morning run, Trevor told Brian, “One love for six weeks.”
Kaya might not see it that way. In his head, Brian was already hearing his professor admonish him for letting things get out of hand. All the women wore silky dresses Polly had sewn for them, and ribbons in their braided hair. And the men, even the teachers, were already adopting the Jamaicans’ style. Hats and a subtle overall rhythm. Then on Monday everyone had bought the same green and yellow climbing sandals at the Patagonia store.
Every morning on the trestle bridge, Trevor tempted fate, leaning over the worn railing. By ritual now, Brian pulled him back.
“When it’s this intense, this fast,” Brian said, “something’s bound to go wrong.”
“Not true.” On solid ground, Trevor turned, running backwards. “Different people, different times.”
Brian suspected Trevor fooled around on the bridge not just for show, but to reinforce his belief that control was an illusion. He kept saying Brian worried for no reason; it wouldn’t help.
Just as Brian was thinking this, Trevor asked, “At tonight’s gig will you look out for Crescent?”
“You want me to dance with her?”
“I’m playing every song. If you don’t dance with her, she’ll drink too much.”
“She’s underage.” Brian hadn’t thought twice about accepting an eighteen-year-old in the program. A mistake he wouldn’t make again.
Trevor elbowed Brian. “A card, underage. Ah, right.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t drink. Do you like her, Trev, or are you just doing me a favor?”
“You said not to talk about my girlfriends. Nuh true?”
Brian appreciated it. Without Trevor staying beside her, Crescent would get in trouble. He hoped Hailey’s feelings weren’t hurt but didn’t mention it. He watched her, though. Hailey didn’t act unhappy or even concerned.
Brian rushed Trevor after the run. No idle stretching or soaking in the sun. He needed to set up for Kaya’s first sight of the Consortium in action. Yet, driving back, one question stuck in his mind. How could his brother give up Hailey for Crescent?
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