"Look at him!" one of the girls beside me hissed enthusiastically to her friend.
"He's hot," said Chatterbox Two.
I stiffened. I was pretty sure they were not talking about Chancellor Collins, who looked like he'd passed on seven months ago and had been dug up for the ceremony.
"Must be Christian Grey," Chatterbox One confirmed.
"Is he single?"
I bristled. "I don't think so," I murmured, feeling oddly protective toward these two babbling idiots.
"Oh." Both girls looked at me in surprise.
"I think he's gay," I muttered.
"What a shame," one of the girls groaned.
As the chancellor kicked off the ceremony with his speech, I felt Christian Grey's eyes boring into to me. His stare was so intense I could almost feel the red dot of a laser tracker on my forehead. I sank into my seat, hunching my shoulders trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
As the chancellor droned on, Christian Grey looked away from me, fixing his gaze at the WSUV banner overhead. He didn't look at me for the remainder of the chancellor's speech, thank God.
Maybe he'd given up and moved on. Maybe he saw I'm with someone and he just wanted me to be happy.
A girl could dream couldn't she?
"In conclusion, I'd like to lead things off with a speech from our valedictorian Cherry Bentley. But first, a word from our newest and most generous benefactor, Christian Grey.
The audience stood to applaud.
Holy Crap! Christian Grey was going to speak. The students took their seats and I noticed many of the women, and some of the men, had their hands tucked under their robes. He approached the lectern and surveyed the hall like a hawk watching a field of bunnies.
"I'm profoundly grateful and touched by the great compliment accorded to me by the authority of WSU today. It offers me a rare opportunity to talk about the impressive work of the environmental science department here at the university..."
Holy smokes, what a windbag! The two girls next to me leaned in, their perpetually wagging tongues hung out of their mouths a little. I rolled my eyes.
He droned on "...our aim is to develop viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for third world countries..."
Blah, blah, blah. Give me a break. He didn't fly all the way from New York to Washington State to end world hunger. He flew all the way from New York to Washington State to make my life a living hell.
I felt my phone buzz again and look at a text from Shari.
OH SH*T!!! I CAN'T GIVE MY SPEECH! HE STILL THINKS YOU'RE CHERRY BENTLEY!!! :-O
I texted back
I CANT HELP U WID DAT

YES YOU CAN! YOU HAVE TO GIVE THE SPEECH FOR ME!!!
I looked up at the stage and Christian Grey was blathering on with some sob story about his personal experiences with profound hunger with his eyes fixed in the distance. I dialed Shari. This wasn't the sort of thing we can resolve over IM.
"Shari. I can't give your speech for you."
"Oh, my god! You have to! When they introduce Cherry Bentley and I haul my ass up there instead of you, he's going to go all bats**t on me and freak the f**k out!!!"
"He's going to find out sooner or later."
"It has to be later! After I start my new job at the New York Times next week! I just know he'll screw that up for me when he learns that we've played him for a sucker!"
"And what about the other two thousand people here who know I'm Fannie Clark and not Cherry Bentley? They'll drag me off the stage before I can even open my mouth."
"No they won't! I know ASL."
"ASL? Is that some weird fetish thing?"
"No, dummy! American Sign Language."
"Shari. No." I said and hung up. I hoped that's the end of it, but Christian is still droning on and Shari is on her feet and coming toward me.
She knelt before me and took my hand in hers. "Fannie, please. You have to do this one little thing for me."
I felt terrible, because I wanted to help. "No Shari."
"Please, Fannie," Shari begged. "This will work. The people who don't know us will think you're Cherry Bentley and I'm your interpreter. The people who do know me will think you're giving the verbal part of the speech for me and I'm just showing off."
"I can't. Besides it would look weird that I don't have those fancy purple robes."
"You do now." Shari pulled her robe off, the cue cards spilling from her pocket, revealing a slinky blue backless Italian designer dress with just a hint of side-and-back cleavage. Angel's eyes widened at the sight of the coppery-haired siren down on all fours in front of him, since he's only human after all. But he averted his eyes in a hurry.
She held the gown out to me but I wouldn't take it.
"Forget it. I'm not prepared. And you know I get stage fright."
"You don't get stage fright," Angel said.
"Yes, I do."
"You didn't get stage fright in freshman drama class. You totally killed it. I flubbed my lines ten times and you just keep going like a trooper, altering your lines around my mistakes."
"Yes, well that was different," I muttered.
"How was that different?" Angel asked.
Because I was young and infatuated and hoping to get laid. Of course I didn't say that. What I said was, "It was different because that was acting. And because you were there with me, quick to smile at me and cheer me on."
"I'm still cheering you on," Angel said with a voice that touched my heart. "Only this time I'll be cheering you on from my seat. If you get scared, just look at me and I'll smile and you'll know you have a friend in the audience."
"And you won't be up there alone," Shari said. "I'll be right up there next to you."
What can I say. I'd have to have a heart of pure ice to say no after that. "Very well. Hand me the cue cards."