Sophomore Switch(52)
Author: Abby McDonald

I slowly exhale. “That was . . .”

“Terrifying,” Ryan finishes from my other side. We sit in silence for a moment, adrenaline still dashing through my bloodstream. “Come on.” He finally gets up. “We still have to face the real critic.”

My pocket begins to vibrate. I check the caller: it’s my father. “I’ll catch up with you.” I push Ryan down toward the front of the room, then retreat through the crowd to the hallway outside.

“Dad, hi!” I exclaim, overflowing with happiness. “They liked it — our film! We just had the screening, and it went really well, I think. I hope!” I know I’m babbling, but I want him to understand that this is a success. My time here hasn’t been the waste he thinks it is.

“Of course it did, Emily.” He sounds more relaxed than usual. “Well done.”

“I didn’t think we’d get it done in time.” I keep talking, the fluorescent-lit beige corridor striking me as the wrong place to celebrate such a victory. “But we’ve been working all week and —”

“That’s wonderful,” he interrupts. “But I’ve got even better news. You got a letter in the post this morning, and I’m sure you can guess what it says.”

“You opened my mail?” I try to keep up, but I can’t help glancing back toward the auditorium, wondering what Lowell is saying.

My father laughs. “I knew you’d want to hear right away. You got it!”

“Got what?” I watch two of the gum-snapping girls from my class stalk out of the doors, obviously displeased. “What are you talking about?”

“Your internship, silly. With Sterns, Cahill, and Coutts. I’m sure you’ll get other offers, of course, but this is the big one.”

“The big one,” I echo, only half listening.

“It looks like my time on the golf course with Giles paid off, eh? Not that your sterling record didn’t have anything to do with it, but every little bit helps. Now, I’ve already started looking into flats you can rent for the summer, something in the city, I think, perhaps Pimlico or Marylebone. Perhaps even buy outright if the price is right; you’ll be needing somewhere after you graduate, and if I cosign your mortgage . . .”

I listen to him ramble about property-value appreciation and the right neighborhoods while I try to take the news in. So I did it, after all. The prized internship is mine, and I’m one step further along in my five-year plan. California hasn’t ruined my chances: I’m still set for a summer beavering away in the offices of one of the most prestigious law firms around, and after that they’re almost certain to offer me a job.

The future unfolds before me in that corridor: certain, secure, and clear as if I’d mapped it out on my miniature whiteboard with indelible ink. Summer, then my final year in Oxford, then a move down to London and that well-located flat Daddy is so intent on buying. Everything is just as I planned.

“That’s wonderful,” I say, a new sense of satisfaction mingling with the elation from before. Everything is just as I planned. “It all worked out.”

“Of course it did! It’s like I always told you: you’ve just got to follow the plan.” He’s so proud, I can hear it beaming in every word.

“Thank you.” I feel a weight ease, that creeping discomfort that’s loomed whenever I think about going home. Now I know how everything will be, I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to worry anymore.

The doors slam open again, and I look up to see Ryan barreling toward me, a huge grin on his face.

“I have to go, Daddy,” I say quickly. “But it’s great news, it really is.”

“I’ll call when you get the other offers, and we can go through them all.”

I hang up and turn to Ryan with a smile. “I’ve got some news,” I start, but he puts a hand to my lips.

“Me first!”

He’s so full of excitement, he’s practically bouncing up and down. I giggle and thread my fingers through his. “All right, you go.”

“Lowell loved it,” he announces, pulling me to him and punctuating each sentence with a kiss. “He totally loved it. And that’s not all: Julian Morton is here.”

“The director?” I exclaim.

“They go way back.” Ryan laughs, slipping his arms tightly around my waist and leaning in, trapping me against the wall. “So Morton saw it and loved it too. He wants to mentor us!”

My mouth drops open. Ryan closes it with kisses while my mind reels until at last, I come up for air.

“But . . . What does that mean?”

“It means we’ve got jobs!” Ryan squeezes me tighter. “His new movie starts shooting in June, and he wants us to intern! Paid! We’ll be total slaves, I know, but we’ll get to learn about script writing and direction and a real-live production!” I gasp, swept along by his enthusiasm. “Can you believe it, Em? The whole summer on set together.”

And then I remember.

“Wait, Ryan, I can’t —” But he’s kissing me again, and whatever I need to say can wait. Gripping my waist, he brings my hips hard into him, and for a moment there’s nothing in my mind at all, just the feverish pull of hot mouths and racing blood and —

“Omigod!”

A familiar voice splits through my oblivion. Ryan wrenches himself away and I blink, still dizzy.

“Em?” The voice becomes a screech, and I turn to find Morgan gaping at me in disbelief, Brooke and Lexi flanking her with equally stunned expressions. “What the hell are you doing?!”

From: totes_tasha

To: EMLewis

Subject: just an idea . . .

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hey,

so, the end is nigh, but i was thinking, we totally need to hang out. what do you think about a tiny detour before we head home? spring break in florida is, like, a rite of passage. you could fly in for a couple of days before going on to england, and i could do the same in the other direction. how about it? i could really use a vacation before facing everyone back home, and there’s no way we can go home without meeting in real life!

xoxo

From: EMLewis

To: totes_tasha

Subject: re: just an idea . . .

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Oh, boy, sign me up. Things have got really complicated here — I’ll need a holiday whatever happens.