It’s almost sad they have to leave here eventually and face the ugly world. And that’s coming from a person who has liveda pretty privileged life. Even I know how ugly the world is, and that ugliness has barely touched me.
Stepping into the trades department is like crossing county lines. When you can visibly see the difference in the pavement, the sidewalks, and the landscape as if one county has more resources than the other.
Except, it’s not a resource issue. It’s scale and noise. I hear saws and loud machines, the whine of a motor. There isn’t a difference in landscape or sidewalk quality, but you can tell most of these buildings are new. There’s an industrial feel that attempts to blend the old with the new and has added some architectural features.
I stand outside one of the buildings and stare at a corbel that didn’t quite hit its mark. Maybe they’re letting the student body practice on the outside of the building.
“Looks like two different puzzles trying to be glued together,” a man says as he steps beside me.
I glance at him as he stares up too. He looks amused, but there’s also fondness in his expression. When he meets my eyes, he gives me a big smile. His hair is blond and shaggy, and his eyes are a bright blue. Those are eyes you’d see across the rink.
“I think we’re supposed to appreciate the attempt,” I comment.
He chuckles. “Quin Stommer,” he introduces, offering me his hand.
“Just who I’m here to meet. Hansley Bardot.” I shake his hand. “I hear that just a few years ago, few of these buildings existed.”
Quin nods. “Yep. The office building was here.” He nods toward it, and we begin walking that way. “But the rest was built from the ground up. I’m not sure the execution of the design quite hit its mark.”
“I can hear all the trades working. Seems to me like you have the means to change that.”
He smiles. “It’s already on my list. But I’m still working on introducing trades into the program, so it’s not very high on my list, unfortunately.”
“Is it a matter of design or execution?” I ask.
Quin shrugs. “Both. The outside was made with a different material than the design had originally called for—cost. But that means that the architectural features we’d planned on no longer made sense. I wasn’t quite quick enough at stopping them, so we have a strange spattering of corbels and trim that isn’t uniform over the buildings.”
“Which adds to the strangeness of the appearance,” I say, nodding.
Quin nods as well as he holds the door open for me. “There isn’t an elevator in this old building, so it’s time to get your steps in.”
I laugh. “How does that meet ADA?”
“It doesn’t. We have empty offices and conference rooms downstairs for meeting with anyone who can’t do stairs. Most of my staff’s office hours are actually in their respective shops, so it hasn’t been an issue yet. Though retrofitting an elevatorison the list, but very low on the list.”
“Sounds like this is a very long list.”
“If I wrote it out, it’d be longer than Santa’s naughty list.”
We step into his office as I chuckle. Already, I like Quin Stommer. He gestures to the chair in front of his desk, and I take it as he rounds to the back.
“What can I do for you, Hansley?”
“I hear that you’re the one who heads the big festivals that the school puts on.” He nods once. “Great. I want to know how I can sign up for a couple events.”
“What kind of events?”
“My budget is a little light,” I say, more in reference to the letter than what I’m actually supposed to be spending money on. I’ve set up an appointment with the Dean of Athletic Affairs later this week for some guidance. I feel like I’m missing something. “So I’m looking to supplement it. My team has come up with several ideas and this big festival sounds like the perfect opportunity.”
“My understanding is that all the teams took a hit, most of which were underfunded already,” Quin says.
“Most?”
He smirks. “The football team has never hurt for funds.”
“Ah.”
“Though, I think his budget was hit the hardest as they tried to even out the playing field, so to speak. Coach Frost is on a rampage.”
