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Three of us had been picked for the internships at the same time.
A three-month deal, it would pay the bare minimum. I’d kept my apartment and worked any available weekend at the diner.
By week seven, Marnie sat me down after closing in one of the back booths.
She put a drink in front of me. “We need to have a talk…”
She looked solemn as she slid into the booth across from me.
I looked up worried. “What’s wrong?” My voice faltered over the words, afraid I was about to lose the most steady thing in my life.
“That’s my question for you. You’ve lost weight, your face isn’t glowing like it used to. What’s going on?” She leaned forward. “We’re worried about you, hon.”
I looked down at my chipped nail polish and took a deep breath, trying not to cry. I thought I’d done a better job hiding things. “I did the worst thing possible when I took that internship. It started okay; I did the morning coffee runs. I knew everyone starts off at the bottom and I was okay with it really. There was a rotation, we all did a week at different tasks. I pitched an idea two weeks ago, just sort of one of the last few shots of the day type thing when we were winding down. Client loved it, raved, best idea of the whole day…had me do the photos since it was my idea…but she wanted to do it, too…boss was not impressed afterwards, she came down on me hard. I’ve spent the last two weeks answering phones and posting approved photos to social media accounts, all I’m allowed to do without her supervision. I was told to never, ever show her up again. She hired the first intern already…who followed suit in critiquing me about everything. I’m not even allowed in to help with set up. My life has been a misery from seven-thirty to five every weekday.”
“Abbie…”
“She called me in Tuesday night because she’s supposed to go over our portfolio work as part of the deal. I brought it in, brought coffee…and she tore me apart. Asked why I ever wanted to be behind a camera in the first place…because clearly, I don’t belong there. I don’t belong near a camera, in front or behind…let alone in a photography studio. She ripped apart every photo I had, including the ones I’d won awards for…”
Jimmy sat down across from me. “Abbie…”
“I know, tough it out.” I punctuated the statement with a determined nod. “It’s only for a little longer.”
It’s what I’d been telling myself every morning as I went in to work.
“No, not at all. You don’t go back. You didn’t leave any photography equipment there, did you?’ Jimmy asked.
“No. My one camera ‘accidentally’ got pushed off the table one day…so I didn’t bring any of my own in after that. It was right before I became a receptionist.”
“You’re done there, Abbie. You know she’s just upset you spoke up and a client loved your work, your ideas more than hers. Jealousy is nasty.”
My shoulder shook as I tried to keep holding everything back.
But I couldn’t.
I’d passed the breaking point when Marnie reached out and rubbed the top of my hand.
I hiccupped, brushing the unshed tears away. “I’m not a quitter, though, and not going back…”
“Not going back is what you need to do for you. You don’t need to take that from anyone, a boss, a friend, nothing. Let her hire someone else… You’re talented Abbie, so talented. You have a great eye and an even greater future…so…take a step back, you’ve got your job here, work on your portfolio, apply somewhere else.”
I took a sip of my soda, shaking my head. I wasn’t ready to go back through anything like that again. Not now. When I said she’d ripped apart my work, I’d meant literally in some cases. Tore the photograph in half.But I wasn’t going to share that level of humiliation with anyone.
“You need a breather, Abbie. Take some time for you, the right job will come around.”
I picked at my thumbnail. “I don’t know. Maybe…maybe photography isn’t for me.”
I caught them exchange a look.
“You don’t need to make any big decisions right now.”
“Its not a big decision. It was a bad one. I’m done with photography. I can’t cut it in the real world. I’m going to step back for a while. You’re right, I can’t go back there…I can’t work in a studio…” I should have gone for a smarter degree—my whole family had been on my case about that. Maybe they were right.
4
Lucas
I had an afternoon meeting with one of my favorite clients,thenI planned on heading to the diner to see Abbie. I couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t texted me back. I could understand a day or two—she was working, probably picked up an additional shift or two for the extra money this time of the year—but usually, she remembered her best friend existed at some point.
