For the Record (Record #3)(21)
Author: K.A. Linde

“Okay, melodrama, calm down for a second. You’re not ruining anything. People make mistakes. Brady isn’t going to dump you for making one, and he’s what matters here, right?”

“No, I mean, yes. He is what matters. And you’re right: he isn’t going to leave me because I spoke to the press. I just feel like I should be better,” Liz tried to explain. “I feel like I mar his perfect reputation.”

Victoria shrugged. “Would you rather deal with this bullshit and have Brady or be alone and not have to deal with any of this?”

Liz gave her a look. “I’m just saying it’s difficult.”

“Every relationship is difficult. And I respect your decision to blubber . . .”

“I don’t blubber!” Liz cried. “You’re so bad at this comforting thing!”

“Maybe, but you’re not crying anymore,” Victoria said, shooting her a wicked smirk. “I think you should come to terms with your relationship with Brady. As far as I see it, it’s never going to be easy. You had to fight to get him and you’re going to have to fight to keep him. The lowest lows bring the highest highs. And when you find someone who brings you both, that doesn’t mean you should walk away; it means you have something special.”

Liz smiled despite everything. “When did you become the bearer of wisdom?” Wherever it had come from, Liz liked it. It was clear from Victoria’s face that she was happy and maybe even feeling similarly with Daniel.

“Happens to the best of us,” Victoria said casually.

“Or the worst of us,” Liz teased.

“Lowest lows and highest highs, bitch.”

“Well, thanks for dealing with my lows lately.”

Victoria beamed. “I have to listen to you so I don’t feel guilty burdening you with my highest highs.”

“Oh, God, I don’t want to know if you and Daniel had a threesome,” Liz said, pretending to cover her ears.

“Better!” Victoria squealed. “I got into three of the top genetics PhD programs in the country!”

“Victoria! That’s amazing! Which ones?”

“MIT, Berkeley, and Johns Hopkins. I’m still waiting to hear back from a few others, but I would be perfectly content at any of them.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Liz said. “Did Daniel get into any of the same schools?”

Victoria brightened further. “Johns Hopkins for now. He didn’t apply to Berkeley and MIT.”

“Well . . . what are you two doing this weekend? I’m flying up to D.C. to go to some banquet. Have you been on the Johns Hopkins campus yet?” Liz asked excitedly. “You could do a tour and finally meet Brady!”

“Oh, hell, yes, you know I’m in. I have to convince Daniel, but I can think of a few ways,” she said mischievously.

“I don’t even want to know!”

“Let me talk to him and I’ll get back to you. It’s kind of last minute, but I’m a last-minute kind of girl!”

Liz’s name appeared in the campus newspaper again later that week. Luckily it wasn’t on the front page this time. She only saw it because a few people in class glanced over at her and snickered. She dug the newspaper out of the trash once they were gone and read a watered-down version of what the Washington Post had run. Wonderful.

She tossed it back into the trash and exited the room. She had never thought that newspapers were going to be the death of her. Only a few weeks dating Brady and she already despised reporters, media, and everything else in between.

She wasn’t looking forward to her meeting with Professor Mires. She had put it off as long as she could, but she had to face her mentor. Professor Mires hadn’t seemed upset when she had seen her yesterday, but Liz wasn’t sure.

Walking into the journalism building, she pushed her shoulders back, took a deep breath, and straightened out the front of her skirt. Here goes nothing.

“Hello, Professor Mires,” Liz said, walking into her office.

“Liz, we’ve been working together for nearly three years. You can call me Lynda.”

“Yes, Professor Mires.”

Her professor chuckled and shook her head. She was a pretty woman who tended to wear hippie clothing with long skirts. Liz found that hard to reconcile with the high-end reporter Professor Mires had been in her younger years. “Please take a seat. How have you been?”

Well, that was a loaded question if Liz had ever heard one. How was she doing exactly? Angry that she was in the paper again. Disappointed about getting kicked off the newspaper. Elated that she was back with Brady. Happy that graduation was looming closer so she could escape it all. But of course she didn’t say any of those things.

“Fine,” she answered.

“Of course you are. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your final term paper for the internship through your Morehead scholarship,” Professor Mires said, jumping right in. “I’m going to need a rough draft before spring break so that we can get it cleaned up and out to the graduation department in time. How does that sound?”

Spring break. Well, that was coming up fast.

“Sounds fine.”

“Perfect. Now let’s discuss what you were doing . . .”

Professor Mires trailed off as Liz’s phone blasted to life. She quickly apologized and silenced the ringer. She would deal with that after her meeting with Professor Mires.

After a thirty-minute conversation about her work for her internship and the avenues they had been working toward regarding her final paper, Liz was free to go.

When she stepped into the hall, she fished her phone back out of her purse and pulled up the missed call. The caller ID read NANCY—NEW YORK TIMES. She dialed the number and waited.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Nancy. How are you?”

“Hi, Liz. It’s been an interesting afternoon to say the least. How have you been?” she asked.

“Just fine, ma’am. I’ve been keeping up with my classes and working on my internship term paper. I’m looking forward to seeing you and getting back to work at the New York Times over spring break.”

Nancy cleared her throat. “That’s actually what I want to speak with you about.”

“About travel arrangements? I believe the university was going to have me leave on Monday,” Liz told her.

“Unfortunately, Liz, the New York Times is going to have to terminate any further work with you,” Nancy said.