Change Of Season (40 page)

Autumn laughed at the thunderous approval.  Friday night curfews were the biggest gripe of students living on campus. 

“As you know, it’s a program versus program showdown tonight, with judging by a select panel of faculty.  But more importantly, you’re all supporting research for Traumatic Brain Injury, a debilitating medical issue many people face, particularly soldiers returning from overseas.  It’s a battle that doesn’t end when the uniform’s taken off.”  Veronica paused, solemn.  “I think all of us, in our own ways, have fought a war at some point in our lives.  In the spirit of tonight’s cause, I’ve chosen a song I’d like to dedicate to all of us, self included, who’ve fought a war of our own.” 

At this, her eyes locked with Autumn’s, staring intently.

Veronica gestured to the band, nodding slightly as each member signaled readiness.  With a soft smile, she bowed her head low, and began to sing a cappella.

Autumn was immediately awed.  Veronica had chosen Florence + The Machine, one of her top bands, but even more telling, she’d chosen one of Autumn’s favourite songs of late: “Shake It Out”.  Given its enormous radio presence, the crowd recognized it immediately, enthusiastically welcoming the performance. 

Her friend’s claims of performing a difficult number made sense now: the song demanded countless sustained notes, shifts in octave and an earnest emotion to be sincere.  Veronica gave her all, dancing around the stage, urging the crowd to their feet as she insisted everyone shake off their proverbial demons.  She bowed before Evan, who stood at the stage, blowing him a flirtatious kiss while singing of romance and pointedly directing a lyric at Autumn that resonated deeply. 

Her life has been fraught with uncertainty and pain for over a year, but could she honestly wish to undo it?  Without Chris, she would have never met Miraj, nor would she have switched to Casteel Prep.  There would be no Veronica, no Evan… and no Andrew.

Chris had robbed her of many things, but in turn, she had been given love enough to buoy her through.

The song reached its crescendo, the stage lighting glowing a brilliant orange as Veronica hit the hardest part, a powerful sustained note lasting a good fifteen seconds that earned deafening cheers.  There was no contest:  Veronica would be the owner of a clunky trophy come the end of the night.  She deserved it.

“Holy shit!” Evan exclaimed, clapping wildly.  “I think Florence Welch should be very, very afraid.”

“She’s incredible.  There’s no following that,” Autumn agreed.

“Hey, look at it this way: everyone will look inferior next to her, not just us.”  Evan smiled as he headed back to his seat. 

“I like your thinking.”

Evan had saved a seat for Veronica, who slipped from backstage as two guys Autumn had seen during the week at practice set up their acoustic guitars.  Autumn immediately pulled her into a tight embrace, struggling to fight away tears that threatened to spill and ruin Veronica’s make-up handiwork.

“I love you so much, you know.”

Veronica nodded.  “Love you too.”  Pulling back, she gently shook Autumn’s shoulders.  “Time to dance.”

Autumn nodded. 
Let it go.  Shake him off and move on
.  Veronica curled up against Evan as they took their seats, enjoying a series of performances ranging from the mundane mainstream (Katy Perry) to the unexpected classics (Blue Oyster Cult).  By the time Keenan’s friend from the football team hit the stage for a rousing rendition of Green Day’s “Basket Case”, Autumn and Veronica were dancing in the aisles, not unlike half the crowd.  It was a wild and wonderful concert, where everyone was celebrated, even the Visual Arts student who strayed off key during her attempt at Pink’s “Raise Your Glass”. 

“
American Idiot
is coming to Toronto in a few weeks!” Veronica shouted over the music.  “Are we going?”

Autumn beamed.  “Um, yeah!  Over break?”

“Definitely!”  With a twirl, Veronica suddenly paused, tapping Autumn’s arm.  “Hey, isn’t that Andrew?”

Autumn glanced towards the stage, where Andrew was heading backstage, much to her surprise. 
What’s he doing?
  Confused, she jabbed Evan.  “Hey!  Is Andrew performing?”

Evan shook his head.  “Don’t know.  He plays guitar, though.  Maybe he’s accompanying a Film student?”

Autumn frowned.  Something was missing, a piece of the puzzle.  Andrew was so shy.  Would he really volunteer when the cabaret supplied a ready-made band willing to learn any song? 
Maybe someone’s using a film for their performance and he’s handling the tech
?  It made far more sense than guitar accompaniment.

The crowd cheered Mr. Green Day as he departed, leaving an empty stage, save for the band.  With a glance downward, the guitarist left the stage, taking a bottle of water with him. 

“Let’s sit down front!” Veronica suggested.  “Evan?”

The three of them returned to their claimed seats, Autumn reaching for Evan’s abandoned program.  Her finger slid down the page, counting the acts mentally. 
So he went… she went… yeah, them too…

“Hey Autumn!  Evan!” Lucas called out.  “This next act goes for two, then you’re on!”  He waved his clipboard then slipped back through the curtains, headed backstage.

Meaning the next act is the one before us, so….Oh shit.
  How had she not put it together? 
Jax Daniels
.  As in Andrew’s last name.  Waving the page at Veronica and Evan, her head spun. 

“I’m an idiot,” she moaned.

Evan examined the sheet, eyes widening.  “Oh geez!  Jackson Wells is one of Andrew’s collaborators.  I should have caught that.”

“I can’t sit upfront if he’s on stage,” Autumn insisted.

“You have to!” Veronica insisted, gently shoving her into her seat.  “This is huge for him.  You’re witnessing history.”  Lowering her voice, she added, “Even if you’re not ready, I bet a friendly smile would give him hope.  There is hope, right?”

Autumn nodded.  Yes, there was.  She wanted it to be hopeful, wanted life to be beautiful again. 

The stage lights flickered as Jackson and Andrew walked out, earning shouts of “Team Film!” from the upper balcony.  Jackson reminded her of Quentin Tarantino, wearing that same knowing smirk the director sported in so many interviews.  He slid onto the bench at the electric piano, tinkling the keys playfully and nodding to Andrew.  He plugged in his guitar, strumming a few notes and adjusting the microphone anxiously.  The house drummer and bassist shuffled sheet music.

Lucas introduced them with a quick flourish and they counted into a pop melody that Autumn immediately recognized.  A song the two of them had shared, once upon an evening in the editing suite.

“I love Jack’s Mannequin.  There’s something so earnest and genuine in Andrew McMahon’s work.”

Andrew smiled.  “Well, us Andrews are incredible artists.”

Autumn rolled her eyes.  “What’s in a name, Shakespeare?”

By the chorus, Andrew had spotted her, smiling as he sang of a woman who could read his mind, with whom he sparred and yet loved all the same.  Autumn’s face burned as Veronica poked her arm, beaming in delight and whispering, “See?  See?”  Even Autumn had to laugh as he playfully referenced stability not being a strength of his mystery girl, nodding coyly to their side. 

“Can I say something?” Evan murmured.

“Uh-huh.”

“He loves you.  A lot.”

Autumn shook her head in disbelief.  “That’s not even remotely possible.”

“I concur,” Veronica chimed in.

It wasn’t possible.  It wasn’t.  But then he smiled again, and her heart fluttered in reply.  The more she nodded along, the brighter he glowed.  With a silent
Fuck it!
Autumn sang along, and Andrew strummed just a little harder, sang a little louder as Jackson played piano and echoed his vocals.  The applause was warm and loud, many mumbling in confusion.  The story of Andrew Daniels was the stuff of Casteel legend. 
What made him sign up?
people wondered. 
He’s even hotter than before!
two girls remarked a few rows back. 

Oh, he was.  He took her breath away.  And when the duo moved into Elton John’s “Someone Saved My Life Tonight”, Autumn awoke to a world of kaleidoscopic possibilities. 
We could go slow
, she considered silently, gaze fixed on messy dark waves and a shy grin. 
Really slow.  Evan would give him hell if he pushed.
 

He could be safe.  Recalling how she’d fallen asleep on him, she smiled. 
He is safe.  I just have to trust myself to know that it’s true
.

A tapping on her arm broke her daydream.  “We’re next.”

“Fuck,” she grumbled.  “Okay, let’s go.”

Veronica wished them well as they headed for the steps leading backstage. Evan maneuvered them past Lucas and the technical crew, as well as a pair of girls loitering, talking about Andrew’s physical assets.  With a catty glare, Autumn muttered a warning and they scattered. 
He’s a person, not an object.  Piss off
!  Evan chuckled and she punched his arm in warning.

“Get your damn guitar, Evan.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

She lingered at the side of the stage, watching Andrew and Jackson finish up their number.  Jackson was brilliant at piano, which reminded her of the score that an unknown friend had provided for Andrew’s documentary.  Perhaps Jackson was the composer?  Evan had mentioned something about a collaboration between them in the past.

Evan returned just as Andrew and Jackson quickly bowed and made their way off stage.  Andrew’s arm brushed past hers and he glanced up, smiling brightly.

“Hey…”

Autumn nodded.  “You were awesome.”

“Thanks.”  His feet shuffled, eyes cast downward.  “Are you singing?”

Autumn sighed.  “I got coerced into it.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” Andrew insisted. 

Lucas cut between them, clipboard slapping against his thigh.  “You’re on!  Go!  Social hour later!”

Andrew rolled his eyes.  “Lucas, lay off the espresso.  I’ll see you?”

Such a loaded question.  Biting her lip, she nodded.  “Yes.”

Andrew’s fingers grazed hers as he departed, beaming.  Evan shook his head, leading her out onto the stage.  It dawned on her then that Andrew would be watching her perform, and her knees buckled.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Sure you can.  Close your eyes and sing.  It’s just you and I in the gym, alright?”

Autumn tugged the second microphone stand towards her, adjusting the height.  “Uh huh.  The gym.  No one around.  Sure.” 

Time began to surge forward, Lucas introducing them to warm applause that was surely for Evan and his star swimmer status.  No matter, at least they were being kind.  With a deep breath, she closed her eyes when the band joined Evan, swaying to Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”.  As Veronica had joked when asking her to perform, Evan was the Waters to her Gilmour. 

Don’t faint, just keep your eyes closed and sing
.  As her part drew closer, she steeled her resolve. 
Screw you, Chris.  I’m taking music back
.

And she opened her mouth and sang.

The audience sang along in clusters, reassuring in their solidarity.  When a loud cheer broke out after the first chorus, Autumn opened her eyes.  Seven years of choir; seven years of singing for people.  Provincial competitions and collected ribbons and tiny trophies lining her parents’ shelves.  How had she let this slip away?

Their first song wrapped, Evan tuned his guitar, introducing the second song as being one that spoke of war’s toll.  With an encouraging smile, he strummed softly as Autumn stepped up to the mic.  She’d insisted on Matthew Good being in the mix, the two of them settling on “A Silent Army In The Trees” as it dealt with war in haunting visuals.  Evan, in turn, had insisted she take the lead on it. 

Rubbing her grandfather’s ring for luck, she sang freely, no longer afraid.  She’d won awards for solos in junior high.  She couldn’t be terrible.  She faltered briefly as her gaze found Andrew halfway back on the main floor, but she pushed on, harmonizing with Evan as they’d rehearsed. 

With every note, every verse, a shackle sprang open.

Her head was buzzing with thoughts as they bowed and left the stage. 
I did it.  I really did it
.  As Veronica and Keenan congratulated them backstage, Autumn’s heart continued to sing.

***

“My feet are killing me!” Veronica grumbled as they trudged towards Ashbury.

“And now we know why I chose flats,” Autumn taunted, skipping ahead.

“I didn’t count on so much dancing!” Veronica protested.  “That’s the most fun it’s ever been.  The spirit of competition ignited that theatre.”

“That and the pre-show intoxication,” Evan added.

The three of them laughed, recalling Professor Hurst chastising a group of students in the upper balcony for their spiked fruit punch.  She’d let them off with a warning – mainly because it was the opposite of what Logan would do.