Waiting For A Star To Fall (Autumn Brody Book 2) (2 page)

"I hate waiting. I hate waiting in lines even more. Why are they doing this to me?"

Autumn snickered, adjusting her blue robe. "Because Logan wants us to suffer to the very end of our time at Casteel Prep?"

Andrew slapped his forehead in exaggerated fashion. "Of
course
! I should have known."

"Is it wrong that I want to call her ableist to her face?" Autumn asked. "She can't get mad at me for using the
exemplary education
of her precious school, can she?"

She smiled as her boyfriend edged closer, slipping an arm around her waist. Like the rest of their graduating class, they'd been forced to stand in line for over an hour now, awaiting their march into the Media Studies Centre's grand auditorium. While there had once been five students between them in the alphabetical order of things, they'd refused to remain separated and sorted like cattle.

"You're sexy when you're political," Andrew murmured in her ear.

"You're always sexy." She stifled a gasp as he pressed against her. "My father will kill you if he catches you within a twenty-mile radius of me with a boner. Down, boy.”

"Nerves. Happens to every guy," Andrew countered. "He'll understand."

Autumn felt herself flush as crimson as the foliage of her namesake as Alexandra Hurst, Casteel's Drama Program Director, approached. "All the same, cool it. We're being watched."

"Students, your attention please!" Alexandra called out, her British accent lending a regal feel to the room. "We will be proceeding into the theatre in approximately five minutes, so I encourage those of you bored to death by this tedious process to return to your correct order. I also suggest you spit out any gum, lest our Headmistress birth a cow when you accept your diploma."

Autumn laughed quietly, along with many of the graduates. Hurst's loathing of Elise Logan was legendary, made all the more amusing by the fact that the Alumni Association and Board of Directors loved the prestige (and money) she brought to the school. Logan had no power to dismiss her, and Alexandra Hurst took full advantage of her leverage.

"Veronica is missing a primo Hurst moment," Autumn mused quietly.

Andrew reassured her with a kiss to the cheek. "I'm sure she's okay with that.”

Veronica St. Clair: Autumn's best friend. One of the people she owed her life to on that awful January night the previous year. She'd graduated high school, but wouldn't be a part of the day's festivities. She had other obligations.
Huge obligations
.

"Five minutes, kids! You know what that means!"

Autumn spun around, grinning at the hulk of a man behind her. "Keenan Hall! Why, whatever are you talking about?"

"We need to
chill out
. Outside. C'mon, doll face."

Beside him stood Evan Kowalczyk, a lean wall of swimmer's muscle cloaked in the universal royal blue garb of the day.
Big brother Evan
. Autumn embraced him quickly before she and Andrew joined them outside for one last
herbal remedy
. Evan had been a steadfast friend since he'd begun dating Veronica the previous year. Of all of the students on campus today, perhaps only he could understand the bittersweet nature of Veronica's absence. Their love affair had been the stuff of high school legends: Prom King and Queen, pictures all over the yearbook. The Drama Star and the Swim Team Captain, popular and friendly to everyone. Judging from the light rings around Evan's eyes, he was taking the absence hard.

Ducking into an alcove, Keenan produced his trusty vaporizer and took a quick hit, passing it next to Autumn. "For we rode a
blazing
saddle!" he sang with a wink.

Autumn took a deep inhale, struggling not to giggle. "I somehow knew we'd end up here."

Keenan grinned, proud of his self-assigned campus duty to medicate the masses. "Of course! One last
spark
of magic at Casteel Prep. My folks wouldn't drive faster than my grandmother, or we would have more time. Keep it moving, Daniels!" he urged, jostling his classmate.

"Tradition, man." Andrew exhaled slowly, passing off to Evan.

"A damn shame Veronica's not here. She'd probably stumble on stage, lightweight that she is." Keenan shook his head, whistling low. "She better not forget us on Broadway."

"Off-Broadway," Autumn blurted out, earning a roll of his eyes. "Hey, she'd correct you, too. Not that the show isn't guaranteed to move there eventually."

Veronica had always been destined for greatness, according to the Casteel Prep grapevine, but her sudden move to New York had been a fairytale of good luck. Having gone to the city to audition for a theatre program, she'd stumbled onto an Open Casting Call on the bulletin boards and shown up on a whim. Despite being non-Equity (and therefore sitting at the bottom of the list to be seen,
if
time permitted), she'd been lucky enough to be seen. She'd performed a two-minute song—the same one she'd used in her school audition—and gone back to her hotel, thinking if nothing else, she'd survived her first casting call in the Big Apple.

Two weeks later, she'd been called back to do a cold reading of a monologue from
In the Garden
, the brainchild of renowned lyricist and composer Samuel Schatzman. Written twenty years prior, it had never been launched as a formal production, despite die-hard theatre fans clamoring for it. Veronica had been cast as Johanna, a critical secondary character as beloved as Éponine in
Les Miserables.
Her schooling had been completed with a private tutor around the rigorous rehearsals.

A small price to pay for living the dream
, Autumn mused.

Leaning back against the wall, Keenan urgently tapped her arm. "Hey, what's going on with that actor guy? TMZ had some story on her last week."

"Drop it, Keenan," Andrew cautioned.

Too late: Evan's face blanched and he mumbled an excuse, rushing back into the Media Studies building. Autumn slugged their thoughtless friend in the arm, shaking her own fist in pain.

"Absolutely nothing! Why are you bringing that up in front of
Evan
? Don't you think the distance is hard enough?”
At least, I hope it's nothing
, Autumn added quietly. She hadn't been able to reach her friend all week, and the photos were a little... intimate.

Brain engaged, Keenan pocketed his vaporizer. "You mean, they didn't break up? He’s been avoiding me, but I swear, Evan said something the other day that made me think they were Splitsville."

Autumn exchanged a worried glance with Andrew. "What? Veronica hasn't... Is it possible? Poor Evan!"

"One minute," Andrew warned them. "Let's go back inside. We'll check on Evan after the ceremony, okay?"

The trio plastered on innocent smiles, slipping back into line just as teachers arrived to escort them to their seats. Ducking her head around the students between them, Autumn blew a kiss to Andrew.

"Tease!"

"Ms. Brody!"

Autumn glanced over at the grinning face of Gretchen Frey, the head of the Film Program. Youthful and sarcastic, she was something of an adopted mother for Andrew, which meant she took endless joy in embarrassing the couple.

"Hello, Gretchen. Any last words of wisdom for Romeo and Juliet?"

Gretchen smirked. "Screw his bit about sparks and powder kegs. If you're not lighting up each other's lives and setting the world on fire, what's the bloody point?"

"My thoughts exactly," Andrew chimed in.

"And that's why he's my favourite: he listens to my every word. Good boy. Now, march!"

Line by line, row by row, the graduating class made their way to their seats, preparing for one last farewell to Casteel Preparatory Academy.

* * *

The day was a blur of speeches, awards and the traditional music of convocation. Laughter was shared, songs elicited tears, and friends embraced tightly with promises to stay in touch. While Autumn often found such yearbook message fodder phony, boarding school was a different world. She believed it when Azure Amaya, her classmate from Creative Writing, hugged her with a cheery good luck sentiment. She knew that Jackson Wells, Andrew's long-time collaborator, would be in touch. Autumn wished the latter well, planting a kiss on his cheek, much to his surprise.

"What was that for?"

"For helping him get through to me," she replied, thinking back to the charity concert where
Jax Daniels
had performed two of her favourite songs.

It had been the final push she needed to let Andrew into her life. Her world was infinitely better for it.

"Hey, that's my lady-friend," Andrew protested lightly, tugging her close. "Get your own, Wells."

"I plan to at the dance tonight." Jackson nodded towards a Vocal Studies student whose name eluded Autumn. "Wish me luck!"

As he slipped away, Andrew rolled his eyes. "I bet he
can't hardly wait
to see her later."

Catching the movie reference, Autumn groaned. "Strawberry Pop Tart kismet?"

"He thinks so. Oh, well! Let him have his fun."

"Autumn! Andrew!"

The couple spun around, blinded by the flash of Sarah Brody's camera.
My mother, the teacher.
Autumn had mentally prepared herself for overkill from her parents, but surprise snapshots were her one oversight.

"Mom, Jesus! Let me touch up my make-up first."

"Hush! My daughter doesn't graduate high school,
with honours
, every day!" Sarah gushed, embracing her tightly. "We're so proud of you, baby! You looked beautiful on that stage."

"In this old thing?" Autumn quipped, deftly touching up her lip gloss. "Just something I had lying around."

Her father hugged her next, flicking the tassel on her hat playfully. "Unusual choice for a hat, but it's bold. I like it. Very fashion forward."

"Don't you mean backwards?"

Autumn jabbed her elbow into her boyfriend’s arm. Andrew had been complaining about the head gear all day.

"Nope, you're both moving forward to bigger and better things.” Neil flicked Andrew’s tassel playfully. “Now, your mother insists on fifty pictures for the living room walls, so we'd better get started. Are we... waiting for anyone?"

Andrew winced, averting his gaze.
Awkward
. Having been orphaned at age seventeen in a car accident, he was technically the responsibility of his wealthy and disinterested aunt, Judith Daniels. Now that he was both twenty and finished with high school, he'd been informed that contrary to his belief that his parents had left behind just enough to cover their debts, they'd actually provided for him. His tuition for three years? His aunt drawing from his trust fund, via a bank-arranged executor. As per their wills, the trust fund was his to manage and access upon graduation... which meant his aunt had even less reason to pay attention to him.

"It's just us," Autumn told them, sparing Andrew further discomfort.

"Just the way we like it," Sarah stated firmly, embracing Andrew. "Our happy little family."

A barrage of photos began: Autumn alone; Andrew alone; the couple together; a begged photo with Evan before he hurried away to his car; photos with various classmates and instructors. A series with the parents, of course. Autumn hated taking pictures, but she reminded herself that she was lucky to be alive to graduate. An occasional glance at the scar on her left arm, from where they'd tended her broken bone, brought her smile back.

Andrew's ridiculous faces behind her trigger-happy mother also helped.

Ditching the gowns for their formal attire beneath, a full group shot was proposed. Scanning the area for a stand-in tripod, Autumn found a better solution.

"Emma!"

Dr. Emma Stieg, her therapist for the past two years of school. While she'd known that the work of therapy was as much on her own shoulders as Emma's, the psychologist had gone beyond the call of duty to pull her back from the brink of self-destruction. When Autumn didn’t believe in herself, much less trust reality, Emma had believed in her.

"Autumn, you look wonderful!" Emma admired the emerald green strapless dress her former client wore. Quietly, she added, "A far cry from the day we met, huh?"

Autumn grinned. "A million miles away. You remember my parents, Neil and Sarah Brody?"

Handshakes were exchanged with greetings, and a camera was handed over with harried instructions. Emma obliged happily, assuring them that everyone looked their absolute best. Before she could hurry away, Autumn blocked her path.

"Emma? Is it appropriate to hug a therapist?"

"Our professional relationship has ended," Emma replied, a hint of pride in her voice as she opened her arms. "I wish you nothing but happiness for the future, Autumn."

It was an embrace of friendship, a celebration of a journey's end. Goodbyes exchanged, Autumn drew a steadying breath and reached for Andrew's hand.