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“That will never happen, though.”
“Maybe one day.” I shrug. “You never know.”
“I guess. But I’ll be long gone before it does.” She blows out a puff of air. “Will you turn your face a little to the left for me?” I do as she asks reluctantly. Mainly because with my face turned, I can’t look at her. “So what’s next?” she asks after a few moments of silence pass between us. “After college, I mean?”
“If you don’t know the answer to that question by now, you haven’t been paying attention to anything.” I grin, getting a quick objection when I try to look at her.
“Stay just like that,” she instructs. “I know you want to play in the NFL,” she says in a tone that clearly statesI’m not stupid. “I just meant, like where do you want to play?”
“Honestly, I haven’t given it all that much thought. I think I’d be happy anywhere.”
“You wouldn’t be upset if you end up on a crappy team?”
“Not at all. In fact, I’d almost prefer it.”
“Why?”
When I look back in her direction this time, she doesn’t object, having stopped mid pencil stroke to study me for a moment.
“There’s something about coming into a program and being the person who gets to be part of taking something subpar and making it great.”
“Kind of like you did here.”
“I guess, yeah.”
“But wouldn’t it be easier to go to an already established team?”
“No, because an already established team is established for a reason. And usually that means they have a great quarterback standing behind that line. I have no desire to play second to anyone, no matter how good they are.”
“Because deep down you know you’re better?”
“You said it, not me.” I grin.
“Okay, but let’s say youhadto pick. Where would you go?”
“Probably somewhere out here, on the West Coast. Don’t get me wrong, I love where I’m from, but California...”
“There’s something special about living here,” she finishes the thought for me.
“Exactly.”
“I understand. It’s one of the reasons I chose USC.”
“It doesn’t hurt that there’s a Laboe office right here in L.A. either, does it?”
“How did you...” She seems surprised, which given everything she’s learned about me these past few weeks, she shouldn’t be.
“We have mutual friends. Besides, I was in your room, remember.”
I have never seen so many sketchbooks in one place and that’s not counting the various designs she has pinned on the wall next to her bed. And while I knew she was vying for an internship at some fancy designer in L.A., I didn’t actually know the name until I saw the folder on her bedside table.
“So what’s the plan? Is that the ultimate goal?”
“It is.” She nods, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my eyes tracking the movement. “But they are very selective and only two interns get chosen each year out of thousands of submissions. And even if you’re lucky enough to land the internship, less than ten percent of their interns actually come out with a job offer at the end of their year. It’s extremely competitive. And that’s here in L.A. You should see the stats for their New York office.”
“When do you find out?”
“Well, first I have to get selected to interview. Interviews aren’t being held until December and if I’m lucky enough to land one of those spots, I should know no later than March or April.”
