I wanted to see Dash at least one last time. I went to the bedroom I’d used while in this house, and packed quickly, tossing a couple of pairs of blue jeans and T-shirts in my duffle bag. Socks and underwear followed. Also my dated cell phone and charger.
If luck was on my side, I’d see Dash, learn the truth of his life, and be heading back here by this time tomorrow.
Dallas, Texas
Being unexpectedly chosen by my professors to be lead counsel for the nationwide mock trial competition team was one of the most prideful moments of my life. I’d done well in law school, consistently going above and beyond what was required of me.
As a young, determined student, halfway through my studies at SMU’s Dedman School of Law, I considered those qualities my strengths. My teammates, in their last year of law school, viewed them as weaknesses, making sure I always remembered I was a trust fund baby. Undeserving of anything since my family name was on several of the buildings on campus.
Like most of my life, I maintained a singular, intense focus while prepping for the competition being hosted at Dedman this year. The rest of the world faded as I spent day and night absorbed in the trial prep.
It all came down to this moment. I stood behind the defense table, the pump of my breath synchronized with the ticking clock on the back wall. Sweat began to form in my armpits, Istood paralyzed as the judge finally delivered the verdict. Her measured words marked the culmination of the final showdown. We won!
A hard-fought battle to the very end against trial teams from all over the nation, and we bested them.
I argued the fuck out of this case. Prepared for every twist and turn thrown my way. A sudden and powerful cheer broke out from my side of the mock courtroom, while a palpable sense of defeat loomed from the other side.
They were worthy adversaries even if I did kick their ass in the end.
A rare surge of pride welled; one I couldn’t contain. A wide, toothy grin spread across my face. I hoped to know this exact feeling at the end of every case I argued.
“We did it!” Alexis, second-chair counsel, clutched my arm as she gave a celebratory leap. The rest of the team embraced and congratulated each other.
As the victory unfolded in my periphery, Dr. Harris, my team’s mentor, came forward. His hand outstretched to shake mine. He didn’t come at me with a smile, but the standard frown appeared less severe.
“You held your composure, Richmond,” Dr. Harris said.
“Thank you, sir,” I murmured, aiming for humility, but feeling far from it right then. “They’re a formidable team.”
“Dr. Harris, we’re going to Parliament to celebrate. Join us,” Alexis invited, shaking his hand. In a first-time move, she looped her arm across my shoulders and beamed at me. “You’re legal drinking age, aren’t you, Dash? Come along too.”
Hmm, was that another jab at my maturity, or an earnest invitation to join in the celebration? It was difficult to tell. My peers had a relentless competitive streak, always ready to point out each other’s perceived shortcomings, yet this invitation was a first and sounded genuine. “I’ll be there.”
“Great,” she said. Her grip on my shoulder evolved into a side hug. “I’ll welcome you on my team any time.”
I doubted her sincerity since she was graduating at the end of this term, but let it slide as she redirected her excitement back to Dr. Harris, breaking protocol by giving him the same side hug she gave me. Stranger yet, he accepted it with one of his own.
“The championship trophy’s coming to the place it’s always meant to be. Come by the bar.”
“I’ll be there in spirit,” he said before making his way toward the crowd of students pouring into the litigation area.
I took my briefcase and quietly exited through a side door, departing unnoticed. Today had been a triumph. I felt a true sense of accomplishment, but like usual, I had no one to share it with.
Chandler might eventually lend an ear, but his self-centered nature often meant he was only interested if it affected him directly. Since he’d been overlooked for the mock team, he didn’t care.
Moreover, my devotion to the silent man on the other end of my cell phone was the real cause of my solitude. My loyalty to Beau created a divide between me and those rare few people who knew my reality. No one, whether friend, family, or foe, understood what motivated me.
I slipped my hand into the inner pocket of my bespoke suit jacket, made for this day. I retrieved my cell phone to report my big news to Beau. Absently, I extended an elbow to push open the building’s main door and trotted down the perron.
“Dash! Be at Parliament by seven.” Joshua, a teammate, called from the front doors. I didn’t break stride until the final step, then pivoted around to shout back, “I’ll change then head that way.”
“Don’t bail,” he instructed, leveling a warning finger my way.
My thumbs-up flew high as I started for my car. My complete concentration was back on the screen in my hand, tracing a familiar path to Beau’s contact information.
I refused to give up on him even if the situation appeared hopeless. I’d resolved that if I hadn’t heard from Beau by summer break, I was going to find him. If I had to abandon my dreams, it was probably better to know sooner rather than later.
My pace slowed, my thumb hitting all the wrong letters until I finally had to stop. I set the briefcase between my feet in order to use both hands to craft a readable message. After reading and rereading the words, making alterations here or there, I pushed the send button. Good. He’d know before anyone else. I slipped my phone back into my breast pocket, close to my heart.
