Hana frowned at her comment. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Olivia said. “It just feels a little one-sided. BWD doesn’t have a quarter of our following online. Or the amount of trust we’ve built with students. So, if we’re hitching ourselves to her wagon and something goes wrong, we’ll be in the mud along with her. If she fails—and let’s behonest, BWD’s track record hasn’t even been impressive—it’ll fall on our shoulders too.”
Ouch. I’d failed to raise enough money for the ball my sophomore year and tried to put on a small event during junior year, but lost half of my board by the time the event was supposed to take place. But it wasn’t like every decision I’d made had been terrible. I’d been dealt a fairly crappy hand. I didn’t say that, though.Only losers make excuses, my mom’s voice rang in my head.Winners create opportunities.
“You won’t hurt for members since you’re always hurting for members. But, if we’re seen failing with you, our org loses credibility,” Olivia noted.
Anthony and Hana exchanged looks, their expressions clouded as they considered their social status at risk.
“Collaborators. You’ll be my collaborators,” I said, quickly trying to pivot. Had Olivia come here just to turn down my idea? To infect the other two with her doubt?
My phone buzzed in my bag. I ignored it, taking a deep breath, and straightening my shoulders. I was an Every woman for goodness’ sake. My grandmother was a lawyer in an era when women were barely allowed on college campuses. My mother was a politician who was a keynote speaker at too many conferences to keep track of. And my sisters were leaders in their respective fields. If they could break down barriers, I could stand my ground in a meeting of three people.
“You all will get your organizations’ names on all the posters, flyers, and social media posts,” I continued without faltering. “You’re getting your name on the official banners. Your executive board members will get free tickets. The event’s straightforward, with a low margin for error. You’ll see the projected cost and potential growth on the spreadsheets in the email. It’ll be all our event, even though my girls and I will be the only ones clocking in hours.”
I was supposed to revise that last part. We needed morehands on deck. But I was losing them. Without their support, there was a ninety percent chance we’d have a repeat of last year, and I’d officially go down in BWD history as the president who put a nail into the Westbrooke University’s chapter coffin.
Hana was the first to speak, smiling as she did and making the dimple in her chin deepen. “Free food and a fun night for our members for the low, low price of telling everyone at meetings to show up? I’m in.”
My chest loosened. “Thank you. Anthony?”
He took a second, glancing at his laptop where my write-up was on the screen. He brushed his thumb across his beard as he thought. “You don’t have a location yet, do you?”
“I’ll have it finalized next week,” I promised.
“Text me then, and I’ll have an answer,” he decided. With a last look in Olivia’s direction, he shut his laptop and started packing up. “For now, you can put BSU down as a tentative yes.”
I bit down on my inner cheek, trying my best not to look too excited. They knew good and well they were doing me a colossal favor, I didn’t need to remind them.
When Anthony started packing up, the girls began doing the same. His impending absence was their cue to follow suit, even though I still had fifteen minutes of their time.
I stood too, not wanting to be the only one hanging around, despite still needing Olivia’s answer. She waited until the other two were down the hall to give it to me.
“Yara,” she started with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. “You really think you can successfully put on this big of an event by the end of the semester?”
I tugged my bag over my shoulder, nails digging deep into the leather. “Of course.”
“Because if we put our name on it and the event is your typical BWD event?—”
“Typical BWD event?” Why did the phrase sound familiar coming out of her mouth? It sounded like she used it enough to refine every vowel.
Olivia pressed her lips together, pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts.
“Liv,” I said, trying to appeal to her kinder side with the nickname. “Come on, you aren’t really this upset about us using your clout.”
“Reputation is everything,” she said point-blank. “And you know I won’t ask my org to promote something that doesn’t align with our vision.”
“An end-of-semester ball doesn’t align with your vision?” I almost scoffed, but swallowed it. Professionalism was sometimes a thorn in my side.
“Being associated with an uninteresting org that puts on lackluster events doesn’t align with our vision,” she corrected.
I blinked, stomach churning with the shame that’d made its way into every vein. “You could have just said no and been done with it then. Why even show up?” My tone was as hard as my expression.
“Just thought I’d be the honest one. Those two weren’t going to do it, and you need constructive feedback,” she said. “They’re too nice to tell you BWD’s a lost cause. You should have jumped ship after freshman year. Unfortunately, your talent’s going to waste. Your opportunities to network with people who are actually going to have a voice in the world after we graduate are dwindling.”
I laughed under my breath at her assertions. “I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”
She raised a brow. “Yeah?”
