The Deal

These past two weeks of dating Garrett have been a blur of laughter and cuddling and hot sex, intermingled with real life events like classes and studying, rehearsals and hockey games. Garrett and I forged a connection that caught me by surprise, but even though Allie continues to tease me about my sudden about-face when it comes to the guy, I don’t regret my decision to date him and see where things go. So far, it’s been working out great.

But see, here’s the thing about life. When it’s this good?

Something inevitably goes bad.

“I know this is an inconvenience,” says Fiona, my performing arts advisor. “But I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do except advise you to speak directly to Mary Jane and—”

“No way,” I cut in, my stiff fingers curling around the arms of my chair. I stare at the pretty blond woman across the desk, and wonder how she can possibly describe this atom bomb of a disaster as an inconvenience.

And she wants me to talk to Mary Jane?

Fuck. That.

Because why the fuck would I talk to the stupid, brainwashed bitch who just ruined any chance I had of winning a scholarship?

I’m still reeling from what Fiona told me. Mary Jane and Cass dumped me. They actually got permission to kick me out of the duet so that Cass can sing it as a solo.

What the hell.

Yet in the back of my mind, I’m not even surprised. Garrett had warned me something like this could happen. I had worried about it myself. But never in a million years had I expected Cass to do this four weeks before the showcase.

Or that my advisor would be totally fucking cool with it.

I grit my teeth. “I’m not talking to Mary Jane. It’s obvious she’s made up her mind about this.”

Or rather, that Cass had made it up for her, when he’d cajoled her into speaking to our respective advisors and blubbering about how her composition is suffering in its duet form and that she’s pulling it out of the showcase if it’s not a solo. Of course, Cass had quickly pointed out that it would be egregious to waste a perfectly good song, and he’d graciously offered to let me sing it. At which point, Mary Jane insisted that it should be sung by a male voice.

Fuck you very much, MJ.

“So what am I supposed to do now?” I ask in a tight voice. “I don’t have time to learn a new song and work with a new songwriter.”

“No, you don’t,” Fiona agrees.

Normally I appreciate her no-nonsense approach, but today it makes me want to slug her.

“Which is why, given the circumstances, Cass’s advisor and I agreed to bend the rules for you. You won’t be teaming up with a composition major. We’ve agreed—and the faculty head signed off on it—that you can sing one of your own compositions. I know you have a lot of original songs in your repertoire, Hannah. And in fact, I think this is a great opportunity for you to showcase not just your voice, but your songwriting abilities.” She pauses. “However, you’ll only be eligible to win the performance scholarship, since composition isn’t your major.”

My mind continues to spin like a carousel. Yes, there are a few originals I can sing, but none of them are even close to being performance-ready.

“Why isn’t Cass being penalized for this?” I demand.

“Look, I can’t say I approve of what Cass and Mary Jane have done, but unfortunately, this is one of the drawbacks of duet work.” Fiona sighs. “Every year there’s at least one duet partnership that breaks down right before the showcase. Do you remember Joanna Maxwell? She graduated last year?”

Beau’s sister.

I nod.

“Well, her duet partner bailed three days before the senior showcase,” Fiona confides.

I blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s just say it was pure chaos around here for those three days.”

My spirits lift, just a bit, when I remember that not only did Joanna win the scholarship, she also caught the eye of an agent who later got her that audition in New York.

“You don’t need Cassidy Donovan, Hannah.” Fiona’s voice is firm, ringing with reassurance. “You thrive as a solo performer. That’s your strength.” She gives me a pointed look. “As I recall, that’s exactly what I advised at the beginning of the term.”

Guilt warms my cheeks. Yep. I can’t deny it. She had told me her concerns about the project from the start, but I had allowed Cass to convince me that we would be a powerhouse together.

“You’ll have whatever you need to prepare,” she adds. “We’ll rearrange the schedule so you’ll have access to rehearsal space whenever you need it, and if you require accompaniment, any number of orchestra students can help you out. Is there anything else you think you might need?” A tiny smile tugs on her lips. “Trust me, Cass’s advisor isn’t happy about this either, so if there’s something you want, tell me now and I can probably make it happen for you.”

I’m about to shake my head, but then something occurs to me. “Actually, there is something I want. I want Jae. I mean, Kim Jae Woo.”

Fiona furrows her brow. “Who?”

“The cellist.” I stick out my chin in fortitude. “I want the cellist.”

*

Garrett