A thousand thoughts race through my mind: It’s risky. People know my face by now. Surely security will be told to look out for me. But this is my chance. I have no idea what Hayden is planning, but if I’ve asked her to trust me, I have to trust her. Even if it’s just enough to attend this while keeping my guard up. Right?
And that’s all the thinking I require. I’m going.
I have to.
At six that evening, I join the crowd of people waiting in line to attend the ceremony. Everyone’s dressed in formal wear—dresses and suits, all with pops of purple. A few people have Ralston’s compass pin attached to their clothing.
This is the night. It’s the big event, for her and for me.
My disguise is the best I could throw together with an Uber order and a dream. My dress is floor-length and a deep, eggplant purple. Lila Parks would’ve shown up in jeans just to make a point.Sophia Blackis wearing her hair back in a tight bun—a hairstyle I hate, which means it’s one that won’t match any of my photos. I’m also wearing fake glasses, bright red lipstick, and silver eyeshadow. I look nothing like myself, which is exactly the point.
Still, as I get closer to the front of the line, my heart ratchets up, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. I feel as if I’m going to be sick.
This is it. This is it. This is it.
The security officers watch the crowd, scanning passes and waving people forward. I’m next, and my heart is in my throat. I’m going to vomit.
“Next.” The tallest guard waves the woman in front of me forward, holding out his hand for me to step up.
I turn my phone around so he can scan the barcode. As he does, I pretend to notice something on my sweater and put all my focus into wiping it away.
I hold my breath, praying.Please. Please. Please.
“Next.”
I let out a breath, and the world goes fuzzy. He directs me forward, turning his gaze from my phone to the next person in line, and I move without a word, disappearing into the auditorium.
My hands are still trembling as I take a seat in the third row from the back, near the middle. My skin is pure ice, lined with goose bumps, and my lips are too dry.
My heart thuds as I wait to catch someone staring at me, wait for someone to shout my name, to point me out. I imagine them all standing, screaming, rushing forward. I imagine chaos.
Would they drag me out of here?
Or worse, attack me in Ralston’s name? Would they tear my clothing, break my glasses? Would someone film it and upload it to social media with a clever caption? Would anyone stop them? Try to help me?
Would anyone care?
That’s the hardest part. Wondering if I’d be alone again. Feeling like I already am.
Wondering if it was a mistake to come here.
As the last of the crowd filters inside, I keep an eye out for Hayden—expecting to see her, expecting her to find me—but she’s not here. Or if she is, she’s blending into the crowd as well as I’m attempting to.
The applause comes before the words, just as the auditorium dims. A spotlight fills the stage, awkwardly flitting around at first until it lands on Dean Carlyle.
He waves to the cheering crowd as he crosses the stage to reach the lectern, his smile polished, suit pressed.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m James Carlyle, Havenport’s Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. And it is my great honor to welcome you all to a very special Lifetime Achievement Ceremony.”
He pauses as cheers erupt. A few people even begin to pound their feet against the floor like a drumroll, adding to the chaos.
“Now, a Havenport Lifetime Achievement Ceremony is a celebration of those rare individuals whose impact reverberates far beyond the lecture hall. And, I have to tell you, I don’t think there’s a soul on this campus who didn’t see this one coming.” He lets out a small chuckle and the audience matches it.
“Tonight, we recognize a scholar, a mentor, and a visionary. A woman whose work has challenged every norm, uplifted marginalized voices, and transformed the landscape of feminist thought. This woman is the reason this institution has grown. She has brought scholarships, change, and a bright vision for the future here at Havenport. She’s the reason we’re all here, and I’m lucky enough to call her a dear, dear friend.” He touches his chest, appearing sincere. Bile climbs in my throat. “Please join me in welcoming the incredible Dr. Althea Ralston.”
He takes a small step back, peering off to the side of the stage where Ralston appears from behind the curtain. Thunderous applause echoes through the room, an all-encompassing roar in my ears. All around me, people stand and cheer. Shout. Sob. I’m frozen, barely breathing.
I watch Ralston cross the stage, ever so graceful in her violet suit. Her smile is modest, rehearsed, and perfect. It’s also cold. Empty. But they can’t see that through their Ralston-colored glasses. She lifts a hand like a pageant queen, fingers squeezed close together as she waves. She knows how to own the spotlight without ever looking as if she seeks it.
