Willa & the Extraordinary Internship

CH. 34

Writing was never a stroll in the park for anyone, but for someone who was penning their story from the very depths of their life experiences, it was a stroll peppered with creaking skeletons and shadowy ghosts lurking behind every memory. Plumbing through her friendships for memories, both good and bad, reopened Willa's barely-scabbed-over old wounds.

There was no one to grin with when she wrote a sweet chapter extolling the best parts of her friendship with Maryam and there was no one to drown her sorrows with when, as inevitably happened, the bad times replaced the good. There was Nate, of course, but he preferred to be a hands-off boyfriend when it came to Willa's professional life. There were some things, he told her, that you just couldn't do with a boyfriend attached.

So he firmly but kindly kicked her out of his apartment and told her to go home and write.

A week later, Willa had an extremely rough rough draft finished. Jackie had been salivating for days over what was taking Willa so long with the edit, but before Willa could email the new manuscript to her, there was something else she had to do.

So that was how she came to be at a Starbucks a few blocks away from campus, waiting for her former mentor to walk through the door. Willa had been too chicken to call Paige, so she'd opted for the more curt and businesslike email, asking Hello Paige, I'd like the opportunity to meet with you. Would you be free any time today?

Willa had doubted Paige would reply to her, but the fallen from grace author had. Just on the stroke of one p.m., the door opened, and in shuffled Paige. She wore a wide-brimmed hat and oversize sunglasses. She pulled them down to the tip of her nose, scanning the room for Willa. Taking mincing steps, she approached, still not removing the hat or the shades.

"Hi, Paige," Willa managed to say, surprised she could get the words out without bitterness.

"Hello." Paige sat down, smoothing her maxi-dress around her.

Willa slid a cup of coffee across the table to her former employer. "Just the way you like it." Sickeningly sweet and black.

Paige's eyebrows shot up over the top of her shades. "Thank you," she said with hesitation, reaching out to clasp the cup in her hand.

It was ironic, Willa thought as she watched Paige take a sip. When she worked for Paige, she was fetching her coffee, and now, when Willa was coming up in the world right when Paige's career was taking a nosedive, she was still getting her coffee.

The difference was that this wasn't a pandering coffee between eager-to-please employee and demanding boss, this was a coffee between equals. Two adults who were still struggling to find their way.

Maybe they had once almost found it, but it had eluded them, and they had to find their way back to the last point when everything worked. Like a hard reset, wiping everything from the past so it could start fresh.

"I didn't think you'd be getting me a coffee again," Paige commented, finally removing her sunglasses. Her hand trembled as she folded the tortoiseshell glasses and put it next to her coffee cup.

Somehow, Willa doubted it was from the caffeine. Paige was scared.

"I didn't either." Honesty seemed like the best policy. Willa noticed that Paige's face looked drawn and haggard, like she hadn't slept properly in days. Even though the professor was no spring chicken, she had always retained a vitality about her that Willa had envied. Like nothing touched her. Like she glided through life with effortless blase.

Paige wouldn't meet her eyes. "I suppose you've heard."

"Heard what?"

"The university is"—Paige swallowed—"terminating my contract."

That was news to Willa. Unable to hold back her surprise, her mouth dropped open. "I thought you were tenured."

"I'm up for tenure," Paige corrected. "Or should I say, was."

"I'm sorry." Willa wasn't sure if she really was, but it seemed like the socially appropriate thing to say, given the circumstances.

As if she hadn't heard, Paige continued, "I violated the university ethics code. It was"—her lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile—"bound to happen."

"I hadn't heard." Willa swallowed a throatful of her cappuccino. "You seem to be taking it rather well."

"I always hated teaching." Paige's smile faded. "Maybe they'll give your Nathan my old job."

It was a macabre joke meant to be funny, and maybe it would have been if there hadn't been an undercurrent of bitterness in her words. Willa's fingers tensed around her paper cup.

"So why did you call me here?" Paige asked matter-of-factly, pulling her voluminous hair into a ponytail. "I know you don't give a shit about my hero-to-zero career," she said, snorting. "Considering you're the reason it's zero."

Even though Paige didn't sound pissed or accusatory about it, Willa bristled. "You're the reason it's zero. You stole someone else's idea," she said angrily, digging her fingers so hard into her cup that it was a wonder it didn't puncture.

Then, switching tack, she said, "But you're right, I didn't call you here to talk about your career."

Paige raised a sardonic eyebrow. It no longer looked as cool and aloof as it used to. When Paige was famous and a literary superstar, she exuded cool. Now, she just looked like a washed-up, too-skinny has-been.

"I wanted to say thank you." It wasn't as hard as Willa thought it would be to say those words.

"Excuse me?" Paige's other eyebrow shot up and she glanced around suspiciously, like it was a trick. "You're"—she faltered—"thanking me?"

"You gave my manuscript to Jackie. You didn't have to."

Again, Paige looked uneasy.

"I just wanted to say," Willa said, stumbling over the words, "you know, um, thanks. Because Jackie offered to represent me. I have opportunities."

Paige looked down at her nails. "Yeah, well, you were a pretty good assistant."

"And you were right," Willa continued, "about the book. I was being pretty transparent."

Paige frowned. "I was trying to hurt you."

"Because I took your binder." Willa bit the inside of her cheek. "I screwed you over."

A brief smile flitted over the older woman's face. "No," she said calmly. "Because you were better than me."

Willa wordlessly stared at her. Not once in her dizziest daydreams did she imagine that that was true. "But you called everything," she said, voice hoarse. "Right on the head. That the book was a 'homage' to someone else," she whispered, tweaking her fingers in the air to imitate air quotes.

"Maybe I did," Paige replied. "But mostly I just wanted to hurt you, take you down a peg." A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "Maybe ten pegs, if I'm being honest. You surprised me, Willa. Yes, with Nate, in my office..." she shuddered, "but also by writing something more real than anything I've ever attempted."

If they were friends, maybe Willa would have confessed that even her story wasn't as real as it could have been. But this was still Paige, and even if she was harmless as a gormless worm right now, somewhere inside was still the woman who callously stole a young man's idea and perpetuated that lie for years.

Willa didn't delude herself that Paige was suddenly going to be a good person. Fresh starts didn't work for everyone.

But maybe it would for her.

Author's Note: Yay, fresh start for Willa! You guys think Nate has been a positive influence on her? Was anyone surprised to see Paige again?

Please don't forget to vote and comment! :)