Chapter 17: Ben's POV: The Lawn

Ben's POV

I was crossing the quad on Tuesday with two bags and a borrowed speaker when Preston fell into step beside me.

"Ben. My man."

I kept walking.

It was noon, and the lawn was full of people eating lunch on the grass.

None of them were paying attention yet.

"You look tired," Preston said pleasantly. "Where are you sleeping?"

"Somewhere."

"The booth, I hear. That's sad." He shook his head. "I feel bad about the house. Dad's strict about the lease."

"You told him to be strict."

"I told him you'd been taking advantage of a friend." He smiled. "I can fix it, though. That's why I'm here."

I stopped.

Preston stopped beside me with his hands in his pockets and the sun on his sandy hair.

"One phone call to the manager," he said. "She'd put you back on the board tonight."

"My father gave the money for that stage, so she'd listen."

I said nothing.

"And the audio fellowship in the city, the one with the studio. Dad knows the director."

He tilted his head.

"A letter from him would be worth more than your whole transcript."

It was exactly the thing I wanted.

I had wanted it for two years, and it would have taken one phone call.

"What do you want in return?" I asked.

"Nothing." He looked hurt. "Just be smart. Saturday is a big night."

"Stay in the booth, run my speech, and don't let anything weird go out on the board."

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