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He bought an iPad so we could FaceTime every night before bed. Even when he is working, he’ll take a break for ten minutes when I text him I’m tired. Quinn constantly makes fun of us and her favorite word to describe Bryce is ‘pussy whipped’ but he doesn’t care.

I, in turn, make fun of her as well. Her and Dean still keep in touch and she constantly talks about him. I learned he lives in Atlanta but was in Miami to visit friends. He’s a first year lawyer with a small firm. Apparently he’s a brainiac and made it through college and law school in five years. He’s twenty-three and seems like a nice guy.

It’s been four weeks since Bryce and I left each other in Miami. The winter weather has been awful in Virginia and flights have been difficult. I can tell he’s getting aggravated, but there’s nothing we can do about it.

Quinn and I have similar schedules again this semester and today we are meeting with our previous World Journalism professor. Several students were invited to a luncheon to discuss the pieces he submitted for the local show.

When we walk into the conference room, it’s already crowded with several people I recognize from class. Professor Davis greets everyone cheerily when he arrives and suggests we get our plates so the meeting can start. As we file through the buffet line, he sets up his computer to the media screen and starts a rolling slide show. Pictures fill the screen with what I assume is all our individual work. My photos come through last and the slides start over.

Once we’re all seated, Professor Davis stands at the end of the table and stops the show and smiles at each of us individually.

“All of you in this room allowed me to submit your projects to a local contest that was focused on world journalism. The panel of judges intended to bring awareness to different social subjects. I was recently given the news—all of your work was chosen to be included in the exhibit in Washington DC!” His excitement is contagious and we all cheer along with him.

Quinn and I hug tight and high-five our peers. It takes five minutes for the room to calm down.

“This exhibit has been in the works for quite some time so your contributions are being added last minute. As I explained when I asked about submitting your work, there is no compensation. However, you can have as many tickets to the event as you wish. You’re invited to a cocktail party to meet the other journalists too. The event is scheduled to run from February ninth through April first. Here’s a packet of information for you.” His PA passes around folders for each of us to review.

My heart falls when I see the cocktail party scheduled for Friday the Thirteenth. I wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with Bryce. But the next page has two tickets to the party stapled to the invitation. The rest of the packet is basically an informative guide and a few forms we must fill out to release our work for the allotted amount of time.

“Now, let’s take a look at the works you rising stars submitted. If you don’t mind, when I get to your piece, please tell the others a little about the subject.” Professor Davis starts the slide show over and introduces the first picture.

I type a quick text to Bryce, hoping he’ll be able to work his magic again.

Me: Great news! Can you get here Feb 13-15? Friday Night cocktail party in DC! Call you soon with details.

Bryce: DC??? You did it! Your piece made the exhibit! Congrats!

Me: Thx, don’t say anything to Nate. Need to call parents and him.

Bryce: I’ll be there no matter what! So proud.

Me: Talk soon. Xoxo

Before we even get to Quinn and my projects, I’m in tears. The stories that go along with the pictures are heartbreaking and uplifting. One particular piece of work is a story about a wife reuniting with her husband as he departs his ship in Norfolk. The picture capture both of them coming towards each other as his boots hit the ground. I’ve seen thousands of shots of military families reunited, but the angle and editing on this specific one is incredible.

By the time our luncheon is over, I’m humbled and proud to be with such talented people.

~~~~~

“Tell me about some of the other works,” Bryce asks me during our nightly FaceTime.

“I’d rather you see them yourself. My explanations will never do them justice. The talent in that room today was unbelievable. I can’t believe Quinn and I are involved.”

“Babe, you’re incredible. Never doubt yourself. So tell me about the rest of the day.”

“Well, my mom cried and cheered at the same time. My dad was really sweet. They’re coming up the last weekend of the month and staying a few extra days. Nate’s going to try and come with them, but we’ll see.”

“Yeah, Nate told me that too. Were they upset about not coming opening weekend?”

“No, once I told my mom about the opening party. She understood I wanted you to be my date and it’s our first Valentine’s together.”

“Speaking of that. I got a Thursday night and Monday morning flight. That okay?”

“Perfect. I can’t wait. Oh and I’m going to try and get us a room on Friday night. It’s a long drive home that late.”

Bryce goes silent and his face twists on the screen.

“Or not. You don’t look too thrilled.” My voice filled with hurt.

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