The Monday Morning Crawfish Revelation

It’s Monday morning and you are ravenous. You do the natural thing and pop into the dining hall, grabbing a breakfast burrito (and then a second for good measure), scarfing the whole lot down with a mug of coffee in a matter of minutes. Delicious. Then it’s off to Calculus, which whizzes by with all of its usual excitement up on the blackboard.

After that, it comes time for Writing Seminar. As you walk into the classroom, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of the beauties in your class. Everyone’s here, except for Lisa and the prof. They must both be running late.

You slide into the open seat next to Lucille, whistling a jaunty tune. You give her a cheery wave. She’s dressed in her usual black, a satin blouse with a tie by the neckline. She jots something down on her phone before raising an eyebrow at you. Her eyeshadow gives the simple movement a depth and sultriness that catches you off guard, and you inadvertently gulp.

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” she remarks drily.

“What, and you’re not?” you ask her.

“I’m doing fine,” she shrugs. “And I’ll be fine, so long as you refrain from suing the living hell out of my family.”

You give her an odd look, before saying: “Hah hah. Very funny.”

“I’m deadly serious,” Lucille replies, looking you straight in the eye. “Don’t do it. You’ll ruin us financially.”

“And… uh… why would I do that?” you ask.

Lucille stares at you, blinking a couple times. Those dark eyes of hers really are something else, aren’t they? And then you realize you’re getting distracted.

“You don’t know?” she asks, frowning.

“You weren’t joking?” you ask, now getting confused yourself. “I’m really lost.”

“What’s my last name?” Lucille asks.

“Uhm… Crawford, right?” you reply, after thinking for a second.

“What’s the name of the restaurant that you went to?” she asks.

“Which restaurant?” you begin asking, before you cut yourself off. “Oh. Ohhhhh. Oh shit! Crawford’s Crazy Crawfish. That’s where I got food poisoning! What! I had no idea your family ran that restaurant!”

“Yep, and my mom is stressed as fuck about it,” she says. “She’s really worried that you’re going to bring down the business.”

“She visited me in the hospital,” you say. “She was very nice. Brought flowers and everything.”

Not to mention good looking, you think. But that’s not the right thing to be thinking.

“She overheard your parents talking about a potential lawsuit while she was visiting,” Lucille says. “But you aren’t going to do that, are you?”

There’s a steely edge to her voice, a similar hardness to her eye. You suddenly remember the text from your parents last week.

“They’ve asked me what we should do,” you say. “But… I’ll tell them to hold off. It must have been an honest mistake, right?”

“Good,” Lucille nods. “I’ll tell her that.”

Charmaine, you notice, has been paying avid attention to your conversation. She hurriedly looks away as you glance at her, and then you glance back at Lucille, something else not sitting right with you.

“I thought you said you were from New York,” you say. “So how does your mom run a restaurant here?”

“Did I forget to mention that my parents are divorced? Well, they are,” Lucille says.

“Damn, sorry to hear that,” you say.

Lucille waves a hand dismissively. “It’s old news. You don’t have to apologize. They're better off apart anyways.”

Your next words are cut off as Lisa and the old professor walk into the room, talking about the reading for this class. The professor surveys all of you and claps his hands, saying: “Tremendous! Everyone’s here already! Let’s get this parley started!”

Class comes to an end, and you rush off to have a quick lunch, because you’ve got something scheduled at the half-hour.

You’ve been sitting on a chill electronica track with world elements, something very Polo & Pan inspired, and it’s perfect, save for one thing—you’ve never gotten around to finding a vocalist for the track. But now that you’re on a college campus full of hot girls…

Well, you’ve been reaching out to find the perfect vocalist. You managed to find someone on campus with some pretty damn impressive chops (who, you have to say, is quite a looker), and you’ve booked a two hour slot with them at the recording studio in the music department. You show up to the studio a couple minutes early, getting everything set up just right so that you can hit the ground running with this mellifluous girl.

You give the equipment a quick test and nod to your satisfaction. A knock comes at the door, followed by a distinctly feminine “Hello? Alex?”

The only question left… who’s your vocalist?

Lucille +20
Charmaine +5