“Ms. Stern, come in.”
It sucks donkey balls to be me right now.
I wad my gum into a tissue and dump it in her trash can. Best to pretend I’m a half-decent human being. I smile to Penniman, who is a prim, New England-type in her early fifties, and wait for further instructions.
“Sit down,” she orders without lifting her eyes from the papers on her desk. I flop down into the chair opposite her, lacing my fingers together and tapping my foot against the table. I dread to think why she called me in here. Maybe she thinks I plagiarized the article. Frankly, I wouldn’t blame her. I usually suck.
“I want to talk to you about your assignment regarding…what was it about?” She lifts her chin and one eyebrow behind her reading glasses. “MMA. Yes. Well, to be honest, it was quite excellent.”
Great, so why are you saying this in a tone implying I sexually abused a kitten?
I nod, waiting for a but…
“I think we both know you’ve exceeded every expectation I’ve had, and I believe I know why.”
Jesus, did Shane arrange a press conference to let everyone know about me and Ty? I feel my pulse. Everywhere. My ears. My eyes. My neck. My arms. My heart. I'm so not used to being praised. There must be a catch somewhere here.
“The reason why you did so well is because journalism should have been your major. You poured so much passion into this article I couldn’t help but notice. Now, I happen to know Diablo Hill magazine is looking for an intern in their sports section, and I’ve put forward your name.”
Penniman slides a business card at me with Diablo Hill’s editor’s name. “Give Cameron a call. He’s expecting to hear from you.”
My hands shake when I take the card, and I blink in disbelief. So that’s how it feels, to be respected professionally. Butterflies flip inside my stomach like firecrackers. It’s not Heart. It’s not Brain. It’s…Me.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit, stammering, “I…thank you.”
Professor Penniman goes back to her pile of papers and waves me off like I’m an irritating mosquito. “Don’t make me regret this, Stern. It’s a huge opportunity.”
I stare at her, smiling like she’s just informed me that I won the lottery.
Penniman lifts her head and blinks twice, seemingly annoyed that I'm still here. “That will be all. You’re excused. And Ms. Stern, I’ll be watching you.”
Chapter Twelve
"Surprise!"
I don't particularly like surprises. It stems from my need to be in control over what's happening in my life, which, granted, is not a whole lot of things most of the time, but at least I don't get blindsided by my crazy family members.
Like now.
"What have you done?" The smile is drained from my face as I close the apartment door behind me and stare down at Izzy, who is wearing a mud mask and sipping some green-colored juice. She’s watching E! News, her long, tanned legs lazily stretched across the sofa.
Izzy nods with her chin toward her bedroom. The door's open, and I notice a huge suitcase lying on the floor, maxed out with her designer clothes and stiletto shoes, and I'm assuming by the amount of things she's packed that she’s migrating from the planet. For good.
"Are you moving out?" I blink. I hope she's not moving to LA. She's been wanting to do this for a while now. I can't afford this apartment. What am I saying? I can't even afford the microwave in this apartment.
"Yes, Blaire, I'm moving out and giving you a two hours notice." She giggles. "No, I'm getting a head start on packing for my trip. I’m going to Vegas next weekend...and so are you!"
I unleash a sardonic eye roll her way. "Is that green juice spiked with anything? Whiskey? Vodka? Heroin?"
Izzy jumps from the couch and skips her way to me, bubbly like a glass of Champagne. "Nana Marty and I have decided to surprise you. We knew Boyfriend Dearest had a fight in Vegas on the same weekend as Nana's wedding was scheduled, and since she couldn't find another venue here on such a short notice..."
I slap my mouth with my hands, my eyes bulging out of their sockets like a cartoon character.
Izzy nods enthusiastically and jumps in circles around me. "We are going to Vegas! We are going to Vegas!" she chants in a sing-song voice.
I feel the smile spreading across my face. This is awesome. And surreal. And hell if it isn't exciting. Izzy and Nana thought about me. They knew how much I thought it sucked that my parents didn't even bother telling Nana that I would be graduating in June. Never mind that it worked out fine and my graduation ceremony wasn’t actually until the weekend after the wedding. I thought I’d be busy with Nana, so I never even thought about going to Ty’s fight.