“At sixty a head, my love, we’re looking at over twenty thousand.” Haven’s eyes were aglow with the knowledge I wouldn’t be going into debt over a student organization. My heart jumped at the realization as well. Twenty grand, in addition to our fundraising, put us smoothly in the realm of paying off all our debts, treating the girls, and leaving an impressive cushion in the savings account for next semester.
I pulled Haven in for a hug. We squeezed each other as we spun around.
It wasn’t life-changing work. We wouldn’t be remembered as the women who raised a quarter of a million for health research or donated enough money to fund a soup kitchen for an entire year. But getting the org out of debt was something. It was enough to lighten the load of the women who came after us. Enough to set them up for success.
“I…” I tried, then laughed, before nearly crying. “I think that was truly stressing me out.”
Haven pulled back to make sure I wasn’t too far gone in the depressed department before joining me in laughter. “You think, love?”
We continued laughing.
“God, I need to break and just…” I said through my laughter.
“Just?”
“Finally, take an art class.” The rest of the weight on my chest disappeared. “I’m awful at it.”
“Don’t say that.”
I tilted my head to the side, giving her a ‘come on’ tilt with my brow.
“It’s a challenge for you,” Haven tried and tucked a few of my fresh goddess braids off my shoulders. “A big challenge. But you’ll get there.”
I continued to smile, feeling far more warmth than sting from her assessment. “It’ll lead nowhere, but it’s fun. And that’s okay, right? Having fun. Not doing things just because it’ll lead to something bigger than that?”
“Of course.” Haven’s expression sobered. “You deserve to enjoy life, Yara. Stop with all the full steam ahead and take an art class. Be bad at something and see that the clock keeps ticking.”
The warehouse’swalls glowed blue, and the air was warm enough to shield us from the persistent cold outside. Our grunge fairytale had been embraced coming off the tail end of Halloween–just as I hoped. The crowd comprised a mix of masquerade masks and black tulle. My elbows and shoulders continued to be tapped and tugged, with a pairing of congratulations.
“You pulled through.” Anthony stopped me on my second round of the room. Each time I’d looked for David, and each time I'd failed. There’d been a large group of football players that’d filtered in soon after the doors opened, but he hadn’t been among them. And he hadn’t been answering his phone. Worry pinched at my stomach, but I tried to keep breathing and keep positive.
“Yeah.” I scanned the room. The music was loud enoughto get the blood pumping, but not so much so that we’d get a noise complaint… yet.
“It’s impressive,” Anthony continued. “You should be proud.”
“I am.” I nodded, still distracted. I found Hart, Weston, and Nathaniel near the refreshment table and nearly dipped in that direction. But before I could make any ground, Anthony said,
“We should meet and plan something for next semester. A BSU and BWD event. It’ll be great.”
I turned back to him. Once upon a time, that would have been music to my ears. Not an outright approval, but definitely as close as I would get from him.
“I’ve been emailing you about a joint event for years.” I kept a neutral tone even though my insides were buzzing from the vindication. I’d worked for three years to earn a second glance from every org president on this campus. I knew it was all about numbers; it’s always been that. But deep down, I thought if I showed them who I was and how smart the people in my org could be, then maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
“And now you’ve proven you can put something together,” he said with a half-shrug. “So? Are you free for a chat next week?”
I touched the tip of my tongue to my top lip, nodding as I considered. “I’ll get back to you on that. For now, enjoy the party.”
I would email him. Most likely tomorrow. But tonight, I wanted to soak in the small win and petty upper hand I’d gained. Turning the other cheek was great and all, something I was raised to do, but giving someone a taste of their own medicine was too satisfying to ignore. I’d grow up… one day.
“Hey,” I greeted the guys. My smile was bright as I rodeoff the high of leaving Anthony without a definitive plan. “You guys enjoying yourselves?”
“Top tier.” Hart gestured to the room. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
I laughed. “You’ve never been to one of my events.”
“It’s an educated assumption,” he promised. “You always outdo yourself. Of that, I’m sure.”
“Impressive,” Weston agreed. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
