Chapter Ten
Competition
Diantha checked her phone as she left the gate to the football field, double checking her task for the band directors. Aspen High School's band filled the surrounding area with their music, the loud impact distracting her from her thoughts. There was a time and day when constant barrages of different sounds and voices were something she didn't even bat her eyes at, but now, it was overwhelming if she wasn't prepared for it.
Rereading the memo, she set off to her task, a key to the band room in her hands.
Normally, she would work with other band parents at the entrance, taking money and giving entrance wristbands. This year, the head director, Melissa, was having her act as a personal assistant.
If she thought about it too much, it was a tad ironic. She had a handful of personal assistants in her day, and now she was the one fulfilling that role.
Taking the back way into the school to avoid the main parking lot, she took off for the band room.
Standing with the door to her car open, Cynthia contemplated bringing the jacket she had in her hands. It was nothing heavy like a winter coat, but she wasn't sure the weather warranted it yet. In the back of her mind she knew she only brought it because she was still conscious of the looks the scarring on her arm would attract.
"I'm not about to sit here and burn," she said to herself, deciding to leave the jacket behind. Throwing it to the passenger seat, she locked her car behind her, and began to make her way towards what she figured was the entrance to the football field. A band could be heard on the field, the melody soft, with the music from the front ensemble being the most prominent.
Kay had given her vague instructions on where to go, and thankfully there was a steady stream of people to follow into the venue.
Approaching the back of the school, not far off from where she would pick up Avery after band practice, a familiar face caught her attention. Diantha had just rounded the corner of the school, carrying something in her hands that Cynthia couldn't distinguish.
Lingering memories of their mess of a coffee date kept Cynthia hesitant to even approach.
As fate would have it, Diantha took notice of her, and without meaning to, Cynthia walked towards her, trying to think of what to say. Her mind was blank as they met in the middle. It was clear to Cynthia that she was working the competition, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of what to say.
Diantha also was struggling with figuring out what to say. She felt like she had hardly any time to really process their conversations from their coffee date. She had been meaning to call Siebold to get his assistance in the matter, but with how busy things were leading up to fall break, she had yet to get around to it.
Before either of them could get a word out, a yell caught their attention.
"Grab that! Grab that!" Followed by a slew of curses.
Looking towards the hill, the two saw a group of students and a teacher not far behind them chasing after a marimba that was quickly picking up speed as it rolled its way towards the lower parking lot, not far off from where they were standing.
Without thinking, Diantha dropped everything she was holding, running to stop it before it could topple over or hit a car. Cynthia was right on her heels.
Seconds to spare, Diantha and Cynthia put themselves in front of the instrument, stopping it from hitting a small blue car.
Both women let out a grunt of pain as the instrument rammed into them, sending mallets falling out of the pockets, and the ends of the keys coming off track.
Diantha sucked in her breath with a quiet, "son of a bitch", her knuckles white from gripping the metal frame of the instrument.
If she weren't in an equal amount of pain, Cynthia might have laughed.
This wasn't any bit of how she had planned their next conversation to go. At least now she could think of something to talk about. "You okay?" She asked, forcing herself to breathe.
Diantha only nodded, unable to get anything else out.
Cynthia pushed the marimba away from them as a uniformed student approached them, out of breath and carrying a few multi-colored mallets. "Thank you—I'm sorry—thank you," he panted, about to buckle over on his knees.
Diantha looked up, meeting the eyes of the instructor, who was a tall and imposing man. His badge indicated the was from Beech High School, one of the largest schools attending.
"Glad you two were here to catch that," he said in a gruff voice.
Something about his whole demeanor put her on edge. "It's no problem," she assured him. "We just got all new marimbas and vibraphones, so I know how expensive these are." She might not have remembered the second instrument had she not just had a conversation about them with Melissa.
The student pulled the marimba back towards him, trying to put the keys back in their place. A stiff clip on his shoulder from the instructor stopped him. "We'll fix that when we get to the practice area." He looked to Diantha and Cynthia again. "Thank you again, but we need to get going. I'll be sure to pass along my thanks to Melissa."
As they made their leave, joining up with the other students who had waited behind, Diantha let out a sigh. She put a hand on Cynthia's arm, almost leaning into the other woman. "I don't even want to think about how this would have turned out had you not been here." She felt like she had just barely caught her breath.
Cynthia kept her eyes on the leaving group. The man's calm anger had unnerved her slightly. "I'm glad I was here, too," She said, returning her attention to her. "Again, are you okay?" She looked over the shorter woman. Neither of them were bleeding at the very least.
Diantha nodded, letting her hand slip off her arm. "Yes, that just…hurt more than I was prepared for. Might make for a fun bruise to look at later," she said, looking around for the folder she had dropped. It laid exactly where it had been dropped, and when they they returned to pick it up, everything was mostly in order. Only a light layer of gravel dust left any indication that something had happened.
Cynthia handed her the packet of pens that had landed away from it.
"Thank you," she said, adjusting everything back into her grip. "Well," she began awkwardly, "as I had planned to ask, how are you, Cynthia? It's good to see you."
Cynthia ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back. "I was better before getting run over by a marimba, admittedly," she joked.
Diantha gave her a quick look-over. "I should ask, are you alright? I'm sorry to have dragged you into that."
She shrugged. "Like you said, it'll be an interesting bruise later. Besides, I'm the one who followed." She still wasn't quite sure why she did follow. Maybe it was a natural reaction to follow. Maybe it was the sheer terror on Diantha's face as she realized what was about to happen. Regardless, she was still thankful she had helped.
"Again, thank you, Cynthia."
Whether it was the soft look in her eyes, or the sincerity of her tone, Cynthia felt herself caught off guard by it.
The sun lingered above the horizon, leaving everything around them bathed in a golden glow. With the falling rays of the sun, a sense of calm fell over the two.
"It's no problem," Cynthia said, turning to face the stadium entrance. "So, you're working the competition I take it?" She asked, fishing for conversation as they began to walk towards the ticketing area. There were a few faces she recognized from when she helped out a few times, but nobody she could name.
"Yes, I'm the head band director's personal assistant this year, but it's more or less me running around getting forgotten things, and keeping the judges happy," she explained.
Cynthia said nothing in response, reaching for her wallet in her back pocket.
Diantha stepped ahead of her. "Put her as my guest, Marsha," She said to the woman at the ticket table. For a split second she was eternally greatful for name tags.
Cynthia was too distracted by the thought of oh, that's her name, to dispute it.
The redheaded woman laughed to herself, grabbing for a spreadsheet from the back of a folder. "Finally using that, huh, Ann?"
Diantha gave a noncommittal shrug. "After a few years of helping out, I figured I should do that sometime." Up until nows he hadn't had anybody to use that for. Siebold never visited her until she had lengthy breaks, and all of her other friends were already helping the band out in other ways.
After having her sign the spot next to her name, Marsha then handed Cynthia a red wristband. "Alright, Cynthia, you're good to go. Enjoy the competition!" She felt a little bad that Marsha had remembered her name, but it took her until now to figure hers out.
"Thank you," Cynthia said as they began to walk towards the stands. "And thank you; you didn't have to do that," she said to Diantha as she fit the band around her wrist.
She glanced at her with a smile. "It's no problem." She looked to the field. A band was about to march on, so the entrance to the stands was about to be closed off for another ten minutes, give or take. Stopping away from the stands, she figured it would give them a few minuets to talk before she had to go back to her PA work. "Getting you in the competition is the least I can do for your help earlier. Though, Avery should have been given at least two passes into the competition…" If her memory served right. The band's funding had been good this year, so it seemed likely.
Cynthia laughed lightly, looking up to the stands to see if she could spot her niece. Kay had told her she was signed up to sell programs for part of the competition. "She probably forgot. Like her mother, she gets a little scattered now and then, and she's been…distracted lately." As she said it, she spotted her niece walking the rows with a stack of pamphlets in her hand.
Diantha followed her gaze, laughing along with her as Avery met up with her friend by the bottom row. "Distracted by a certain color guard girl, perhaps?"
"Definitely."
"It's precious, really. Back when she was in my class, they would always make a beeline for each other once class let out for lunch," she explained, falling into silence as the band began marching onto the field.
The rest of the crowd around them fell into quiet, giving the band their full attention.
With a wave of a hand, Diantha had Cynthia follow her to the fence that surrounded the field so they could watch the band. As they reached the fence, the announcer finished introducing them.
Leaning against the fence, with Diantha at her side, Cynthia found herself at ease. The pain in her stomach, that was definitely already beginning to bruise, was forgotten, and she allowed herself to focus on nothing but the poppy, fun intro of the band. She hadn't caught the name of the show, but the overall tune was pleasant enough.
The ease she was feeling became even more noticeable when the band moved on to their second movement, and the baritone soloist poured their heart out in their rendition of Nessun Dorma.
For a moment, Cynthia allowed herself to look at Diantha. It was still an odd feeling to be around her, but one she was slowly warming up to. The gentle smile on her face, combined with the glow of the falling sun left Cynthia feeling warm.
She wanted to tell herself that anything warm towards Diantha was unwelcome, but it was fighting a losing battle. The feeling was there, and the more she concentrated on it, the more prevalent it became.
Turning to look up at Cynthia, Diantha wanted to say something —having felt her eyes on her for the better half of the last minute— but refused to break the understood silence for a performing band. Instead, she merely held her gaze, taking in the image of her blonde hair illuminated in the afternoon glow.
Neither had noticed that the ballad had faded out, the crowd in the stands clapping for the end of the movement.
The sudden, intense brass, downbeat of the next movement startled Diantha enough to make her jump.
The two women laughed quietly over it, putting their attention back on the field. Both tried hard to not think about whatever had, or hand't, happened between them.
Soon enough the show came to an end, the crowd clapping for the performance. Diantha and Cynthia turned away from the field, intent on heading up the stands.
"Ann!"
Stopping, Diantha turned around, watching Augustine approach the two. He had been helping out with concessions, and by the looks of it, he was finally done for the day.
"Just one second," Diantha said to Cynthia. "Augustine!" She greeted.
He smiled brightly at the two women. "Afternoon!" He gave his attention to Cynthia. Diantha hand't realized that she was taller than him. "You must be Ann's friend! I'm Augustine!" He introduced, extending a hand.
She took it, giving a firm shake. "Cynthia."
"Augustine here is also originally from Wisteria. He teaches science just down the hall from me," she briefly explained.
He nodded. "Yeah, it's a pretty small world we've got going on." He gave Diantha his attention. "I'll be quick, you got a minute?" He asked.
She was quick to respond. "I have to run this up to Melissa," she said, patting the folder in her hand. "If you'll let me run this, I'll be back down in a few minutes."
"Sure thing! Take your time." He looked up to Cynthia. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Cynthia."
She responded with a quick, "Likewise" before heading up the stands with Diantha. "So," she began. "I take it he knows?" She asked, leaving it open-ended so nobody around them might understand.
She nodded. "Yes. He knows." He knew just about everything regarding who she used to be.
"And so I'm not wrong in getting the feeling that he already knew who I was?" She followed up.
Diantha laughed to herself. "Oh, he knows precisely who you are." Referring to them being exes. "I don't know who he was trying to fool."
Walking together a bit longer, they found Kay sitting at the end of the row that lead up to the press-box. Avery stood by, talking to her, her face red from embarrassment.
"No, no!" Kay said, amused. "Lean down here, let me look at that."
"Mom," she grumbled, dragging it out.
Cynthia was already just as amused as her sister was.
Getting closer, she saw the bright red kiss mark on her niece's cheek. She only needed one guess as to who it was from.
"It-It doesn't mean anything! It's just a thing the guard girls do, mom! Maggie said so herself!"
Cynthia held back a laugh, approaching them. "So, it was from Maggie, huh?" She teased, making her jump.
"Oh, god, not you, too," she grumbled, hiding her face behind a small stack of programs. "Hi, aunt Cindy."
The second Kay noticed Diantha, her amusement dropped. "Oh, hey," she said, forcing herself to keep her tone even.
"Hello, Kay. I'm glad to see you're doing better," She said, picking her words carefully. She stood by carefully, as to not block the stairs, and tried too hard not to be visibly shocked by her appearance. She was only nineteen when she had left, and in her early twenties the last time she saw her. From what she remembered of pictures, she looked a lot like her and Cynthia's mother now.
Kay put a hand up, refusing to keep eye contact. They were in public, so she had to keep things under control. "Look, thanks, but I'll be real with you, uh, Ann. I'm still not mentally prepared to like…see you again. I want to keep things civil, though," she explained, feeling her sister's disapproving stare.
Although she found herself hurt by the words, Diantha merely nodded, not willing to make anything of it. "Fair enough. I hope you enjoy the rest of the competition." She then looked to Cynthia, one foot on the next step up. "I'll —my offer from before still stands. If you ever want to get coffee, or anything, you have my number. I'll see you around." Without looking back, she began to make her way to the press-box. With it being towards the end of the competition, she was hoping more than ever that she would be done for the day.
"Want a program, Aunt Cindy?" Avery asked, hoping it would dissolve any tension. She figured she wasn't supposed to hear anything Diantha had said, so she opted to move ahead.
Cynthia shook her head lightly, but said "I would love one."
Handing her the three dollars, they said goodbye to her, so she could continue walking around the stands selling more before it was time for her to meet up with the rest of the band for the host performance.
"Why do you have to be like that?" Cynthia asked as she sat next to her sister.
Kay shrugged, looking up from her program. "What? Were you actually enjoying hanging out with her?"
"Kinda?" Cynthia answered. She thought about telling her what had happened in the parking lot, but decided against it. She would talk about it once she had thoroughly processed it.
Kay looked at her, surprised. "I'm just being honest with her, okay? And you, too, I guess. I'm not ready to see her again."
Cynthia said nothing in response. Instead, she grabbed her phone, looking at the time, then at the program's schedule. They had just hit a fifteen minute intermission, afterwards was Fairweather High School, followed by Beech.
After sitting in silence, listening to the rustling and conversation around them, it wasn't long until Diantha came back down the stands.
A twinge of guilt shot though Cynthia as she passed without making eye contact.
With a sigh, she found herself rising to her feet. "I'll be right back," Cynthia said.
Kay only responded by rolling her eyes.
In only a few strides she had caught up with her. "Hey, Di— Ann."
Diantha forced a laugh. "It's best to call me that while on school grounds," she said, not stopping, and not looking up at her.
Cynthia walked with her to the end of the stands, getting her to stop just before the stairs. Not far away she could see Augustine waiting on Diantha. "Hey, look…I'm sorry about Kay. She's just…"
Diantha shrugged. "She's your sister, and she's protective of you. I understand. There's no need for any apologies, Cynthia."
Cynthia didn't see it that way, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. "So…coffee sometime?" She ventured.
That got her attention. "You have my number," she reminded.
"Right…well, I guess I'll see you later." With that, she took her leave, too unsure of what to say. When she had gotten up to follow her, she didn't have a plan, and it was evident. It seemed to be the theme of her day.
Diantha's eyes lingered on Cynthia for a few more seconds. With a hard blink and frustration sitting low in her stomach, she forced herself to think about something other than a botched conversation. Like Augustine, who was still waiting patiently by the entrance.
"Ann!" He greeted again.
His enthusiasm was infectious enough to take her mind off things. "So, my dear Augustine. What did you want to talk about?"
He smiled. "I've been thinking about how you and I never have dinner anymore. Why don't you come over tomorrow, and I'll make us dinner," he offered.
She laughed, finding herself stepping forward, as if to keep their conversation to themselves. It was unlikely anybody would be listening in, but that didn't stop her. "This is not a conversation we should be having on school grounds," she joked.
He rolled his eyes, in a good-natured way. "We can grade papers."
"I purposely never assign homework on competition weekends. You know this, Augustine. Besides…" she noted that he leaned closer to her, leaving little space between them. Still enough to where an outsider might think they were only standing close because the crowd around them was loud and they needed to hear one another, but Diantha was fully aware that it was closer than she wold normally allow him. This was far closer than her usual arms-length.
She didn't want to think too hard about why she was suddenly letting him in.
"Besides?" He echoed, looking down at her.
She laughed to herself. "Sounds a bit like a double meaning, don't you think, Augustine?" The words alone left a small hint of color on his cheeks, and the repeated use of his name, she could tell, was getting to him.
He stepped back. "Come on, Ann, you know me."
"Unfortunately I do," She jabbed, taking a second to glance at her phone for the time. "Actually, if you would like, Melissa told me I'm done for the day, so we could go get something now if you wanted," she offered.
He laughed lightly. "Admittedly, there isn't anywhere I can think of that is open right now that wouldn't feel like a cheap date." He had picked that wording on purpose.
She laughed turn. "I haven't really eaten since breakfast this morning, so I'm not picky in the least right now."
Despite knowing exactly how the night was going to go, she let him lead the way…
Early morning rays filtered into the room, waking Diantha far earlier than she would have liked on a Sunday morning. For a few seconds, if even that, she struggled to remember where she was. The duvet that weighed heavily over her didn't belong to her, and the sheets weren't the color she was expecting. However, it was the sound of breathing that cleared all the confusion.
Memories of a cheap dinner, distracted flirting, and accepting an invitation back to Augustine's house sat at the front of her mind. And while being in his house was nothing new, it was the activities that followed that were.
Carefully she slid out from the covers, finding herself wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of shorts that didn't belong to her. She told herself that she would worry about where the rest of her clothes had ended up after she got something to drink.
The entire way to the kitchen, she chastised herself. While everything in the moment might have been a good idea, now in hindsight, she found herself regretting most of it. Even as well as she knew Augustine, she prayed this wouldn't make things too uncomfortable at work.
She had been to his home enough times to have a general idea of where things were at. Finding a glass, she filled it up with water, and stood by the sink, staring out the window. His home was in an older section of town, the large oak tree in the front starting to show the first signs of changing colors for fall.
The stillness of the house might have bothered her, but she instead allowed herself to find peace in it.
The peace was interrupted when she heard the door to Augustine's room open, followed by footsteps. The closer they drew towards the kitchen, the stronger sense of dread crept into her stomach.
Setting her glass down in the sink, she turned in time for Augustine to enter the small kitchen, resolved to be upfront about how she was feeling.
"Morning, Diantha," He said, stretching his arms out with a loud pop.
The sound momentarily distracted her as she was unable to suppress her visceral reaction. It was dramatic enough to get a laugh from Augustine.
"I know my body is forty going on ninety, but you don't need to be that dramatic about it."
She couldn't help but laugh in response, leaning back against the sink counter. "I think you're just hoping I'll disagree and compliment you." Against her better judgement, she gave him a thorough look over. "Which, unfortunately, I guess I'm inclined to do. I wouldn't have come within even fifty feet of your bedroom if you looked that age."
He laughed, far more genuinely this time, but before he could continue, she interrupted him. "Actually, look, I just want to be completely honest with you this morning, Augustine."
"Alright," he responded, allowing her to continue.
"It's not necessarily that I regret everything last night. Admittedly, that was…very nice, but I'm not…I don't want to make anything of this."
When he shrugged in a noncommittal way, it took her by surprise. She half-expected him to be very upset. It wasn't as if she had ever been oblivious of his affections towards her.
"I can't say that I wasn't expecting this. I mean, I didn't expect you to actually take me up on dinner last night." he amended. "But you not wanting a relationship with me, I've kind of figured."
She felt a bit amused. "And you pursued me nonetheless?"
His shoulders rose again in a shrug. "First and foremost, Diantha, you're my friend, but you're also very fun to flirt with."
She felt warmth on her face, and she wanted to derail from the feeling. "What do you mean by you didn't expect me to have dinner with you? We go out pretty often, when it's not a busy time of the year."
He remained quiet for a moment, seeming to think hard about he was going to say. The anticipation was getting to her. "If we're being honest this morning…I…" He leaned against the counter, rubbing his neck in thought. "I thought I lost out to Cynthia."
Again, she was taken by surprise. "Cynthia?"
"Well, I saw you two come into the competition together, and then you watched that performance together. It jus—"
"Oh, so, the second I stand by a woman I'm suddenly involved with her?" She asked a little more harsh than she intended to.
He put his hands up in defense. "Look, hear me out Diantha: It's Cynthia we're talking about, not some random woman. Regardless of how long you two hadn't seen one another, you do have history. Plus, you've been pretty…I don't know if spaced out is what I'm looking for. Distracted, maybe? Ever since that coffee date you had with her. It's subtle, but I've picked up on it."
She took a deep breath, ending with a long sigh. "I haven't even had time to really process how that went, and then whatever happened yesterday with the runaway marimba…I don't know. I don't want to risk making too much out of any of it with how closed off from me she still is."
"I can't tell you how to process whatever you two talked about, but, as your friend, I would say you should probably take some time to think about everything while we're on break these next two weeks."
That she couldn't disagree with, so she said nothing, allowing quiet to fall over them. Every little sound was amplified in the small kitchen. A shifting of feet. The small patters of leaves falling on the window.
"Do you want breakfast?" He offered.
She couldn't resist a smile. Truth be told, she was famished, but more than that she wanted to be in her own home, in her own clothes. "You're very sweet, Augustine, but I think I just want to head home."
"Fair enough."
She walked past him, heading back for his room to change back into her clothes from yesterday. Figuring she wasn't supposed to hear it, she ignored the heavy sigh and whisper of a curse from back towards the kitchen.
Quickly putting her own clothes back on, only pausing to take notice of the bruise across her stomach, she suppressed the gross feeling of not wearing clean clothes. She would debate on whether to shower or eat first when she got home.
Walking out of his room, he met her by the entryway. She walked up to him, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for being so understanding, Augustine."
He shrugged, giving her a smile. "You don't have to thank me, Diantha. Like I said, I still value you as a friend. This doesn't have to change anything unless you want it to, but-" he stepped away "-I do think you should really ask yourself what you want. Not just what you want in the moment, either. What do you really want, Diantha?"
She crossed her hands at her front. "It probably has more to do with me convincing myself to not be afraid of whatever that answer might be." Getting herself to even acknowledge it felt like half the battle.
He laughed lightly. "Sounds to me like you already know the general direction of that answer." He paused to give her one last look-over. "But regardless, if I see you during any of the break meetings, great, but if not, I'll see you after break."
She gave a quick nod, turning to head out the door, her purse sitting right where she had dropped it the night before.
Before she could leave, he called out to her one more time. "Oh! Am I still allowed to bring you coffee, or is that too much?"
She found herself laughing. With a look over her shoulder, she said, "I'd be offended if you didn't." She left out the dear Augustine, thinking it wasn't time for that endearment again.
She dug around her purse for her keys after closing the door behind her. The air around her was cooler than it had been in months, reminding her more of a typical Wisterian summer. As she got to her car, she looked for her phone, checking to see if there was still any charge on the battery.
There was, along with a message from a number she didn't have registered. However, she only needed to read the contents to figure out who it was from.
"Hey, I just wanted to apologize again for Kay last night. I would say she's bad at handling these kinds of things, but I'm honestly no better. So…sorry."
Before she could even type a letter of a response, another message popped up.
"Also, still up for coffee sometime?"
A smile worked its way on her face.
With quick fingers, she typed out her reply, and hit send before putting her phone back in her purse.
"Honestly, I'm not holding any of it against her, or you for the matter. Coffee sounds lovely. When were you thinking?"
Thinking on Augustine's question to her, the only answer she could think of was that what she wanted most was to see Cynthia at least once during fall break…
