Political Science 101

Chapter Twenty-Seven

AS THE SEA of people began to file out of the arena at the conclusion of the concert, Mitch and Ana stood at their pre-designated meeting place and waited for Ashlynn and Kelli to emerge. Mitch's ears were still ringing from the decibel level of the concert, which he found to be surprisingly entertaining.

Ana and he discussed, as they continued to wait, the wide array of differing types of people in attendance — young, old black, white, preppy, grunge — it seemed like there was no dominant demographic of any kind, which Mitch saw as a positive thing and admired that the diverse musicians he'd just watched could also draw an equally-diverse crowd.

"I'll go look for them," Ana said after they'd stood there for several minutes. "I'm sure she can't hear her cell phone and they're probably trying to get autographs or selfies or something."

"That's fine," Mitch replied, pleased that Ana had volunteered to venture into the turbulent sea of concert-goers. "I'll wait here." He watched as she disappeared toward the sage into the milling ocean of humanity still crowding the stage after the house lights had been turned on, clearly signaling that the performance was over; but one of the artists seemed to still be mingling at the front of the stage.

Mitch watched her until he could no longer see her. Every breath he shared with her, Mitch thought to himself, was Heaven to him. He closed his eyes with a very faint smile, thinking of her, and slowly falling in love.

"Hey there, Mr. B," an (entirely too) happy voice said, prompting Mitch to open his eyes suddenly. Kelli stood before him, apparently having been separated from Ashlynn. "Check this out!" She handed him her ticket stub, autographed by Vanilla Ice and proudly exhibited a picture of the two of them on her iPhone.

"Cool," Mitch said with faux-enthusiasm. "Where's Ashlynn?"

"She was in line behind me to get backstage to meet him, but when I was done, I had to come back out here. She shouldn't be long." Kelli gave Mitch a look and a smile which made him slightly uncomfortable.

"Nice guy?" Mitch asked, making small-talk.

"Oh, totally!" Kelli said, flipping her long strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder. "He's really cool, really down-to-earth; nice guy."

"Good," Mitch said as his eyes panned the exiting crowd, searching for any sign of Ana, or Ashlynn — or both. He looked down, hoping to finish off his overpriced rum-&-Dr. Pepper he'd gotten from one of the arena venders, but only saw an empty ring of water where his cup had been sitting on the wall ledge next to where he stood. And before he could say anything, he looked up at Kelli as she chugged the remainder of his cocktail. She set it down where it had been, off-center from its original position (as indicated by the previous circle of water), then let out a breathy "Ahhhh..." as though she was being featured in a 1980s Coca-Cola commercial.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mitch said, mostly out of shock.

"Oh relax, Mr. B. — Mitch — I'm a big girl." She gave him an impish grin. "There's lots you don't know about me."

Mitch inhaled, ready with a lengthy and wrath-filled reply, but before his retort was unleashed, Ana and Ashlynn emerged from the crowd, both with autographs and pictures they'd taken with Vanilla Ice.

"Sorry," Ana said with a cheeky smile, "but when I found Ashlynn, they said I could go backstage with her." She showed Mitch their selfie with Vanilla Ice on her iPhone, her on the celebrity's left and Ashlynn on his right. "He was the nicest guy," Ana said, looking at the picture again, not trying to hide the fun grin on her lips.

Mitch wanted to enjoy the moment with her — be happy that his girls had fun — but he couldn't. His smile was artificial. Because in the corner of his eye, he saw Kelli, impish grin still in place, watching him, hoping to make eye-contact. Mitch would not oblige.

The four of them left the arena and quickly made their way to Mitch's red 1998 BMW. Apparently, it had been raining all evening, and it didn't appear to be slowing.