The Compass by C. T. Lang (carter reed .txt) 📕

For a dread-filled moment, Alex waited to hear the panel’s reaction. She anticipated laughter, maybe even resentment. After all, she had tricked them.
“Okay, I get it,” she said, turning her back to leave, “It wasn’t a fair bet. Besides, I can’t sing anyway, so I guess I’m just not cut out for The Compass crew, or whatever. It’s okay, not a problem.” (I will not break down. I will turn around and walk out of this room like I don’t care. Boys don’t cry.) But the moment her hand reached for the doorknob, she heard the partition open with a whir. Alex spun around to face her judges.


The Compass
Chapter Three: Ship’s Hierarchy

Alex could have matched the three voices to their owners before they spoke another word, so it didn’t surprise her to hear the blond boy dressed as an eighteenth-century pirate introduce himself as Joshua Westbrook, Captain of The Compass. (So he’s the Carolina boy I heard earlier. Now that I see him, he does look like he’d belong on a Charleston harbor, not in this cold, classy college setting.)
“You’re the first one to get the better of us,” said one of the twins crossly. (They’ve gotta be twins. I mean, they have the same blackish-brown hair, same olive-tan skin, same dark brown eyes… like mine. Weird. They must be twins, or at least related.)
“Ten doubloons he can’t guess which of us is which, Captain!”
“Grey, you idiot, he’s never met either of you. How could he know your names, ye scalawag!” Captain Joshua Westbrook intervened.
“Well like I said, I’m Grey, and this is my brother, Trey.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Alex,” said the other twin, warmly. With not much further ado, they went to supper.
It was a little like Peter Pan, Alex mused. Seaman Ryan Somers was so enthusiastic about ringing the dinner bell that Mark Antony had to run back to the kitchen and grab the lasagna that the young “sailor” had left there to burn. Trey and Grey, or “Tag” as they were called here, set to questioning Alex about her home training, while First Mate Jenson Burke grilled her on her class schedule.
“So you can do advanced calculations in your head, but you can’t make pasta?”
“No pasta? No Italian soups or anything? How about rice noodles? Can you do Thai food?” (Oh please, guys, I’m just American!!)
“Well, no. My mother only taught me how to make the normal stuff, like meatloaf and baked chicken and barbecue. But I can make any kind of pie you want, and I’m not a bad hand at cornbread. Cornbread casserole is easier, though, because if you’ve got the right sized tray, then—Why are you all staring at me?”
“No reason,” Jenson said with a perfect poker face, but Ryan gave it away.
“Oh my gosh that’s so cool, Alex! The girls will absolutely love you if you can cook for them, and I’m sure they’ll think it’s cute that a guy can cook, it really almost makes up for you looking like a girl… Oops! Sorry, I didn’t mean to ‘fend you, Alex, mate, I was just sayin’ how you’re such a nice guy to talk to and you’re not even like all stuck up like Jos—I mean the Captain can be sometimes and—“
“Ay! I am not stuck up!” Joshua interrupted in irritation, and then Jenson stopped both of them with a tap on his glass.
“Captain,” he began formally. “Hadn’t you best go on and explain the function of The Compass to Alex before we assign him to a specific berth?” Joshua thought about this for a moment, and then nodded.
“You’re absolutely right. I give you my leave to give the new recruit the lay o’ the land, as it were, to read him the Articles of Service on this ship.”
“Aye, Captain,” Jenson said with a smirk. (I’m guessing that’s the First Mate’s trademark. He is kinda good-looking, in a “misunderstood genius” sort of way.)
“First things first, Alex. This fraternity, The Compass, is, as you know, a self-sustaining corporation. We, the crew-mates, keep to a tight schedule to guarantee a memorable experience for our audience. I must speak honestly; at last count, virtually all of our audience members were female, so we strive to meet their demands for a good show. You were tested in singing, and your voice register is quite acceptable. You were tested in use of dynamics and facial expression, yes-they-could-see-you-the-entire-time, and for an untrained novice, you show some promise. Now, you have a choice.”
At this point, Joshua took over.
“To join The Compass means to obey our rules, to be present for every rehearsal, that is, Monday through Thursday, from precisely five to seven o’clock, and to comport yourself always as a respectable sailor should. That means no partying with other frat houses, no leaving the deck after the Axes curfew, and for sweet Caribbean’s sake, ne’er let me catch you consortin’ with a lass in a vulgar manner!” Alex couldn’t help the flash of triumph that came to her eyes. (This is too easy. I don’t have any classes past four on weekdays; I have no desire to ever, ever, ever go back to one of those hell-houses, and as for fooling around with girls… that’s just too hilarious.)
“Well, you drive a hard bargain, Captain. What’s in it for me?” Alex said with the look of a blackjack player with a winning hand. The reactions came instantaneously. Trey and Grey (Tag) frowned in disappointment; Ryan’s jaw dropped; Mark Antony folded his muscular arms in front of him and attempted to affect a look of disdain. Jenson’s businesslike manner went from office-temperature to icebox in 0.2.
“If that’s the way you respond to our generous offer, I think I speak for our Captain when I say…”
“…that we’ll offer you ten percent of whatever you earn here.” Joshua softly finished for his First Mate.
“Excuse me?” Jenson was incredulous.
“Ten percent, Alex. That’s my final offer.” Joshua was practically whispering, and in that moment, Alex forgot that she was Alexander DeAiken, a boy who had always disdained romantic foolishness. (I never thought I would find someone who would stand up to me. What would Jef say to this?! Looks like I’ll have to figure this one out on my own.) In reality, the choice sat right in front of her.
“Done,” she whispered back. As the table began to applaud her with shouts and slaps on the back, Alex’s eyes locked with those of The Compass’s Captain, and for a fraction of a second, Alex saw a young Carolina boy running to spread the news about his biggest catch yet.


The Compass
Chapter Four: Maybe This is Home

It was late Sunday morning, and life was good. Most of the playboys and party-girls were recovering from hangovers, so Alex was free to walk across the Axes campus without worrying about any harassment from the other frats. (It’s been a whole week since I’ve been bullied… I wonder if Jenson or Mark Antony had any say in that?) She couldn’t help thanking God again for her new home. Sure, the first night had been terrifying. (I thought for sure they’d have some kind of hazing, and I’d be discovered and humiliated! But they really seem like good guys. I’m not letting my guard down, God, but I do really appreciate The Compass. You really had my back on this one. As usual.) She grinned and said a quick Amen as she turned onto the little pathway up to the “ship’s port.”
It was odd that nobody answered when she first knocked on the door. She’d been given a key, but normally there were two or three crew-mates home. The twins, Trey and Grey, always stuck together, and Ryan was never without Mark Antony. Jenson and Joshua didn’t always hang together, but sometimes Jenson humored the Captain’s wild ideas. (Well, that’s a boy for you. At least I’m still free to leave the house alone.) After sifting through her bag for her key, Alex pushed open the door.
“Where have you been, ship’s boy?!” Of course it was Joshua. From the moment she signed her contract to The Compass-- “It’s necessary for sailors to be sworn in!”-- the so-called Captain had begun the annoying habit of calling her “ship’s boy”. She lad learned to retaliate by calling him by his baptismal name.
“Well, Joshua, Ah don’t reckon it’s any uh yo business,” she said, mimicking his accent.
“I do not sound like that! And don’t change the topic, ship’s boy,” he retorted haughtily. “Where were you this morning, and why did you not tell anyone you were leaving? There are no classes on weekends, and…” he faltered, “…And you ought to tell us where you’re going!”
“It’s none of your business!” She strained to keep her voice deep as she yelled.
“Yes it is!”
“No, it’s not!”
“Alex! Josh!” Jenson intervened, coming into the hall, “Upstairs, both of you! Now!” Normally the fraternity’s Captain would have protested an order from his First Mate, but now he blushed feverishly and followed them upstairs. Unfortunately, so did the rest of the crew. Alex braced herself as they ascended.
(Oh no… he’s reeeeeeeeeeally mad. Please, God, just don’t let it be in the library!)
Luckily they went directly into what Joshua termed the “Quarters,” the room he and Jenson shared, as “privileged officers“. They had a pretty plush set-up, with two four-poster beds and a bay window that streamed in light to the whole room, as well as overlooking the picturesque courtyard and “Maritime Pond.” (How typical of our Captain… the boy’s obsessed with the sea.) The view was great, but this morning all eyes were on Jenson.
“I believe you have some issues to sort out. This shouting is most unbecoming. If you have something you wish to say, any demands to make or questions to be answered, bring them up now.” (Leave it to Jenson to be the ship’s diplomat. I should’ve known.)
“Alex left The Compass this morning, without telling anyone where or why!”
“Alex, is this true?”
“Yes!” she said unashamedly. “I didn’t do anything wrong, so I don’t see why it’s anybody’s business where I was!”
“Don’t you?” Jenson’s black eyes were cold. “You aren’t just a member of this fraternity, Alex; you’re an employee. We haven’t even had our first event yet, and already you’re disappearing on us! Can you imagine how this looks?” (Oh. I get it. They think I’m deserting, or some madness. But how can I set them straight? It’s weird for a guy to be devoted to God, at least here, in the Land of the Rich and the Brainless.)
“I went out for a walk.”
“For two hours?”
“Yep,” Alex said with false bravado. Jenson paused, and no one else dared to speak. He tapped a pen against his clipboard in an irritated fashion, as if to convey that waiting for her to confess was just wasting his valuable time.
“Alex, do you have a girlfriend?” (Whoa! I