Oliver paced the waiting room nervously, each step a cadence in his head.
"The undead" step "show us our" step "moral obligations" step.
Each step was a difference set, each step seemed to bring him closer to his goal. Each step was a movement in the right direction. His parents were waiting out there, his sister, he even saw Max and Marg through the small door window when they showed up. Everyone was here and yet he couldn't fight the feeling of sadness that she wasn't here.
He unbuttoned his jacket, sitting in one of the oversized wingback chairs. For the last two weeks he had given her space like she had asked. After their talk she had sent a simple message, "I need to think, give me time and I'll contact you when I'm ready."
And he had given her that request, did he like it? Hell no. But did he want this to work out enough that he was willing to jump off the moon if she had asked. So for two weeks there had been nothing but radio silence, Jennifer had even moved out last week and they were working on trying to be friends again.
Oliver stood again and took a deep breath. He could do this, this is what he had worked his whole college career for. So instead of focusing on what could have been he focused on what was. Sarah, the head of the research festival, knocked on the door softly before pushing it open. "Oliver," She tapped her clipboard as she listened to her headset. "You're on stage in two minutes. Ready to walk?"
With a nervous nod Oliver adjusted his tie and buttoned his suit jacket, he if wasn't ready he'd have to be.
The room erupted in cheers as Oliver was called to the stage, all the lights shined on him and he thanked God he could barely see the crowd of people before him.
One. Breathe.
Two. Smile.
Three. Wave as you walk to the podium.
Four. Talk.
Oliver counted his steps as he went through what he had prepared with Max and Marg for two hours last night.
He tapped the mic that was attached to his ear and nodded to the sound booth when he heard it finally click on.
He could do this. He had to.
"What do you call a zombie that can't run?" Oliver smiled brightly letting his eyes adjust to the lights beaming down on him and waiting for the chatter to subside. After a few seconds he chuckled to himself, "The Walking Dead."
The sound booth played a track of drums and the room chuckled with Oliver.
He could do this.
"But in all seriousness I'm Oliver Langston, a senior communications major from good ol' Waco, Texas and I doubt you'd be surprised to know that zombies have indeed taken over my brain. I'd even venture to say that not only my brain, but a majority of the brains probably sitting in this room. I mean why else would you come to a keynote titled, The Walking Dead Are Taking Over: An In-depth Analysis on Zombies and the Media." Oliver smiled again and tried to roll the tension out of his shoulders.
"Continuing on the serious note can we stop for a moment and just laugh about the fact that a zombie's diet can't actually be that healthy, imagine all that raw meat. That has to do something to you, you know?" The room chuckled again and with every word he spoke it got more and more easier to be in the rhythm of things.
He was halfway through his talk when he noticed her. Her hair was pulled into a low bun and she watched him with a smile. She wore a black dress and he almost missed her if Max and Marg wouldn't have sat directly behind her.
He must have said her name because there was a low chatter throughout the room as they tried to figure out what he was saying. She blushed and gave a small wave in greeting and Oliver tried to pick up his place.
He had no idea how he was supposed to do this but he could do it.
YOU ARE READING
Sincerely Yours
ChickLit"Oliver had watched the way she watched the world around her as they had walked to the café and he more than anything wanted a glimpse of what she saw." It all started with a single library card, a single book, a single note, a single girl, and a si...
