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It’s everything, and I’m delirious.
The final week of the Arrowmile internship arrives all too quickly. I receive a few curious or pitying looks from people in the office after the email leak, but nobody really brings it up; and when it becomes common knowledge that I’m only a first-year and technically not eligible for the internship, they only comment that my application must have been very impressive, and I take that as a win.
As the other interns wind down and enjoy long lunches, I work at breakneck pace trying to finish things I started rather than hand them over.
Old habits die hard.
But I haven’t been staying so late anymore. Elaine and the others are determined not to let me; and I’m easily swayed when Lloyd is there to tempt me away to enjoy summer evenings in the city with him, packing three months’ worth of dates into a couple of weekswith trips to museums, the zoo, art exhibits neither of us really ‘get’, ice-cream shops, and even a trip to the theatre. I spend a good chunk of the money I was trying so hard to save all summer, but can’t bring myself to regret a penny of it – not when it means these memories with Lloyd.
But there are still the final presentations to focus on, showing off everything we’ve done during the internship to managers and board members. It’s meant to be a final chance to get seen, to push us outside of our comfort zone one last time. Something to add to our future job applications, or, hopefully, to impress the folks at Arrowmile enough to secure ourselves an offer when we graduate.
Izzy has a full breakdown the night before, and when Louis and I go to check on her, we find Monty pacing the hallway and muttering to himself as he recites his presentation from a series of flashcards, looking stressed-out for once. Dylan keeps sending pictures of his slides to the group chat and asking if they make sense or are too technical, or if we think he’s included too many jokes.
The big day arrives whether we’re ready or not though, and the entire twelfth floor has been dedicated to the Arrowmile interns showcasing our summer. Desks have been pushed aside and chairs lined up inhaphazard rows, facing a large screen standing near the windows.
Everyone has ten minutes to present, plus ten minutes for questions afterwards. Nadja warns us to keep to our time limits – because shewillcut us off, if we go over, which isn’t a terrifying conceptat all.
I take a seat with a few of the others near the back. It’s alphabetical, which means me, Elaine and Dylan are among those who get to torture ourselves with nerves and adrenaline waiting for our slots in the afternoon.
For all our nerves though, the day runs smoothly, and nobody has too much to worry about beyond tripping over their words slightly or fumbling to answer a question coherently. Freya has technical issues when her laptop decides not to connect to the projector, but gamely starts without a PowerPoint behind her until someone fixes it, and Verity talks so fast her presentation is done in five minutes flat, but then she dazzles during the questions afterwards.
When it’s my turn, my heart is in my throat and my mouth feels fuzzy, like it’s been stuffed full of cotton wool. I’ve rehearsed plenty, but as I stand there in front of this huge crowd of important, influential people in this impressive company, knowing this could be whatmy future hinges on, the entire thing suddenly turns into an out-of-body experience.
I smooth out my Elle Woods-confidence-infused pink dress, take a breath, force myself to smile, and say, ‘Hi, everybody. My name is Anna Sherwood …’
And the next thing I’m sitting down with my laptop on my lap and Elaine is squeezing my arm, whispering, ‘You did so great! That was amazing!’ and Dylan is on my other side saying, ‘Bloody hell, Anna, when did you have time to do all that? Talk about a tough act to follow … Wish me luck!’ Then he gets up to take my place at the front of the room.
I tune him out as he sets up and starts talking, trying to filter through the static that’s taken over my brain. I recall my steady voice talking methodically through my slides and the surge of panic when Nadja cleared her throat for my two-minute warning, and making everyone laugh at my reply when one of the managers asked if I felt like I was too much of a people-pleaser.
I think … No, Iknow, it went well.
I relax, the mood in the room helping to set me at ease as people chuckle at Dylan’s dorky jokes or hum with interest. Finally feeling back to normal, I twist to look over my shoulder, spotting Lloyd standing a few rows back, his shoulder leaning against a wall and arms crossed over his chest.
He looks nervous, too, but gives me a thumbs up –good job.
Thanks, I mouth back, then nod at him and give a reassuring smile. He puffs out a breath, blowing some of the hair up from his forehead, but smiles back. Still nervous, but ready.
The last presentation wraps up and the applause is louder this time – for all of us, and because it means this long day is over.
Nadja begins to move out of her seat, but I beat her to it, bolting from my spot in the front row with the other interns presenting this afternoon, and standing to face the crowd once more.
‘Hi, everyone, sorry – if you could just all stay seated for a second …’ I look around them with an expectant smile, clasping my hands in front of my torso so nobody notices them shaking, trying my best to exude an authority I most definitely do not possess.
But people hesitate, and stay where they are.
‘Thanks. So, um, as I think most of you are probably aware, up until recently, there were fifteen of us on the internship programme. But, um, due to some, um, unfortunate, um, circumstances …’
I’m saying ‘um’ too much. I look like an amateur. I’m losing them. I’m screwing this up.
I notice Monty near the back – looking at me like I’ve lost it, or like he’s hoping I’ll announce a round of shots. He pulls a face as if to say,fuck if I know,but then gives me two thumbs up anyway. Next to him, noticing, Verity gives me an encouraging nod.
I’ve got this. I can do this.
‘I thought there was someone else here who could use that empty slot, now that other intern has left.’
Nadja purses her lips, frowning at me, but doesn’t try to stop me. Topher is whispering something to her, looking a bit less eager to see where this is going.
But I look away from them, over at Lloyd – and wave him over to take his spot at the front. Heads turn and whispers rush through the crowd. Lloyd says a quiet thanks to me as we pass when I return to my seat, and plugs his laptop into the projector before anybody has really had chance to get their head around this change in the programme.
