Page 103 of Solo

Drew

The rage has been steadily building in me all week, and now that I’m finally allowed to go back to work, I’m ready to let it loose. I stomp into the kitchen and start pulling bottles down from the cabinets. I need a drink and wine is not going to cut it tonight. Brandy? Scotch? Vodka. Yes, that bottle I have stashed in the subzero will do quite nicely. I pour myself a shot and knock it back. Another one. Then another, and I feel my body start to uncoil just a little.

In my absence, Maureen has arranged for a teaching assistant to conduct the review sessions for my classes and that suits me just fine. I have no desire to be the butt of jokes in my own classroom. By not being there, I’ve missed the smirks and snickers of my students and colleagues. I can’t even bring myself to take Tessa’s calls right now. What I cannot get out of, however, are the orals.

First thing tomorrow the Graduate Oral Examinations panel meets in the small conference room. Barry Green will handle the Music History questions. I’ll take Orchestration and Theory. Maureen is in charge of all general music topics including Research and Music Education. One by one, my grad students will come before us and answer questions culled from every class they’ve taken. Among them will be Miss Katherine Brenner.

At first, the thought made me uneasy. I wasn’t sure how I’d react to being so close to her. Seeing her at my door had been hard enough. But then again, I hadn’t really been prepared for that. I was still confused and uncertain about her role in all of this. But now I know. I’ve had enough time to work it all through and there’s no doubt in my mind that she did this. And, when she stands before the committee tomorrow, I plan to be ready. More than ready, in fact.

I pour myself one more shot and take it with me to the kitchen table, where I’ve spread out my old exams and set up my laptop. I’ve been poring over all my notes going back four semesters, digging out the most obscure questions I can find. Policies stipulate that all students receive test questions from the same semesters. They do not, however, stipulate that each student receive the exact same questions. So special little Katherine Brenner will have an entirely new special little oral exam I’ve created just for her.

Maybe I can’t fail her, but she sure as hell can fail herself.

…

I’m in an excellent mood as I take my seat at the conference table with Barry and Maureen. There’s a fresh carafe of coffee and a tray of pastries. The students are much too nervous to even look in my direction, let alone snicker or sneer about what they’ve read in the papers.

I don’t ask to see the roster because I want to be surprised when she walks in the door. The anticipation builds so much throughout the morning that I barely touch the sandwiches they’ve brought in for our lunch break.

“What’s the matter, Drew, chewing up all those students spoiled your appetite?” Barry jokes with a snort.

“Something like that,” I mumble as I pick at some potato salad.

Maureen has been careful to stick to business with me today. She hasn’t said a word about my situation, and I’m thankful for that. For today, at least, I can pretend that everything is back to normal. Now, she’s skimming her clipboard of names.

“Well, so far not one fail in the bunch this year. That’s very impressive, gentlemen. A testament to how well you’ve taught these students,” she says with a smile.

“Day’s not done yet, Maureen,” I mumble.

“That’s true, Drew, but we’ve pretty much hit all of your students. Anyone who fails this afternoon is on Barry’s watch,” she says, teasing my colleague.

Wait. She’s forgotten something. Or, rather, someone.

“All except for Katherine Brenner,” I correct her. “I have her questions ready to go.”

Maureen turns to me with a confused frown.

“What? No, her orals have been postponed,” she says.

I feel myself grow warm with anger. So, she’s found a way to wiggle out of it? I should have seen this coming. She’s probably trying to find a way to get around having me on her panel because she knows I’m going to make it a living hell for her.

“And how exactly did that happen?” I ask with an irritated huff.

Maureen is staring at me, uncomprehending.

“Drew, don’t you know what happened?” she asks.

“What? Did Daddy manage to get her excused or something? Or does getting one of your teachers fired get you a pass on your orals?” I snort derisively and catch a flash of irritation cross her face. She’s about to comment when Barry pipes up from across the table.

“Kate’s in the hospital,” he says through a mouthful of pastrami.

I feel the breath leave my chest, unbidden. This has to stop. I have to stop caring about whatever it is she’s involved in now.

“Well that’s a little convenient, isn’t it?” I ask, snark dripping from my words.

Maureen stares at me, clearly surprised by the outburst. And why wouldn’t she be? I’ve done a total one-eighty since the last time we spoke. When I was a drooling, sniveling, lovesick cuckold.

“Drew, I hardly think she’s faking a broken wrist,” Maureen says dryly.