“We’re doing fine,” I muttered, balling my fingers up under the desk. I didn’t want her to know how aggravated she made me feel. Between her and Tyler, this internship was going to be the death of me. Was it really worth graduating on time?
“Maybe you can try a nice gesture. I sent him an email yesterday thanking him for this opportunity and his response was really nice,” Sara said. Even if her smile was subtle, it was obvious from her tone that she was boasting. She saw herself in a perfect light, charging up her confidence to an overwhelming level.
If I sent an email to Tyler, it wouldn’t be nice, but it would surely be colorful. Honestly, it was best if we limited our contact as much as possible. Whenever we did cross paths, harsh words and glares were thrown around. Some people just weren’t compatible.
“You know, his assistant handles all of his emails,” I told her. Assistants always dealt with the nitty-gritty stuff for their bosses. Tyler wouldn’t bother himself with sending emails to interns. The only reason why he was looking at my report was to find a reason to be a jerk again.
Sara pursed her lips as she stared at me. She didn’t look all that pleased with my response, especially since she knew that it was the truth. Why would Tyler take time out of his busy schedule to email her? Unable to think of a response to bite back at me, she huffed and stalked her way out of my office without saying another word.
I shook my head, hoping that she didn’t find another reason to come back here and boast about something else. I was already wound up enough having to wait for Tyler to get back to me about my report. A twisting feeling churned in my stomach as I waited at my desk, feeling hardly able to focus on studying or doing anything else outside of thinking about Tyler.
My eyes kept darting to the clock on my desktop and then back to my textbook to read a couple of words. I wasn’t really absorbing anything but my own anxiety, though. As the last hour arrived, I almost thought that maybe I was in the clear. Perhaps, he forgot about my report, or he decided against looking over it.
Then, I received an email from him. I quickly clicked on the email, opening it up on my desktop. There was a file attached. I opened it, seeing that it was a scanned version of my report with all of his notes added. There weren’t just a few marks. He ripped my report apart, tearing apart every section of my paper. My eyes shot open wide as I glanced over his comments, trying to make sense of his criticisms. They weren’t even constructive! Some of his comments were just mean, saying that I was thinking shallowly or had no vision. Other comments didn’t even make sense, like he didn’t understand what I was trying to say in my report. He probably didn’t even try!
Rage steadily filled me as I read over his comments over and over again, taking in every rude remark. He didn’t look over my report to help me out. He did it to demean me. If he thought that he could get away with pushing me around just because he was the boss, he was sorely mistaken. I worked too hard to be treated like trash.
My movements felt automatic. I abandoned my computer and stormed to his office, not even caring if he was busy. He had to still be at his computer since he just sent the report back to me. He could spare a few minutes of his precious time to explain what the point of all this was. I could only take so much before I snapped. Everyone had their limits, and he was one of the few who tested mine. I was almost impressed with how quickly he made me break. There was just something about him.
When I reached his office, I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed his door open and stormed right up to his desk, glaring down at him as he looked up at me in surprise. It made me even more annoyed that he didn’t expect me to confront him about his comments.
“Did you expect me to learn anything from your criticism? You didn’t even tell me how I could improve. You just insulted me!” I snapped at him, unable to fully rein in my anger.
Tyler’s face immediately hardened as he stared up at me. “Your report was an insult. I thought you were a college senior, not a sixth-grader,” he replied, his voice seeping with verbal poison. He wasn’t holding back, but I wasn’t going to either. When it came to each other, we obviously didn’t care for politeness.