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Professor Elan elevated my work for the year’s best and wrote a recommendation for the Givenchy summer internship. I wouldn’t have had the opportunity if it hadn’t been for her and Tomas. There was also Paul, who broadened my horizons to art and travel. My style had elevated. I wasn’t just ready-to-wear knit; I could do couture.Unbelievable.
“No hugs. I need to stay cold and aloof.” She squeezed my hand, then whispered, “But I’m thrilled and expect you to excel in Paris this summer. Make us proud.”
I still wasn’t sure I’d go to Paris, despite Paul’s urges, but I told her, “I’ll do my best, thank you, and thank you so much for the recommendation.”
The rest of the students entered the class, and once seated, Professor Elan announced. “We have wonderful news. Nadia Sokol’s copper dress has been selected as one of the year’s best and will walk with the other seven students.”
Professor Elan paused, and a soft clap sounded from somewhere behind me. Then absolute silence.
My stomach squelched, but I stiffened in my seat.I wasn’t beloved, but I still applaud every student’s success this semester.
“It’s a great honor, and I’m very pleased with Nadia’s progress,” Professor Elan continued. “However, just because it’s the end of the semester doesn’t mean no work.” She launched into her regular class presentation, and the tension humming around the room deflated. I returned to sewing my take on the summer’s single-breasted suit jacket. I had made it into a polka-dotted mini-dress that only had minimal sewing left to finish it. After a while, I stood and went out into the hall and called Paul. It took a few rings before he came on the line.
“Sorry, Nadia. I’m in a session. What’s up?”
“My copper dress made one of the year’s best.”
“That’s wonderful news. We’ll celebrate.” His joy over the line was like a warm blanket in the winter, welcoming and soothing. My classmates’ reaction surprised me, though I had experienced a similar adverse reaction from a few students after Professor Elan praised one of my floral dresses following the trip to Paris. “Thank you.”
“Thank yourself.Youput in the work. Talk to you soon.” Paul had to go, and I had to return to class. I went into the gender-neutral restroom first.
Buzz.
Xander: You won!
Nadia: Can you believe it?!
Xander: Yes, I can. You need to believe in yourself.
Nadia: Can I stop by after class?
Xander: Of course you can, silly.
I pushed the bathroom door and went into the stall and sat down. My eyes stung with unshed tears. My emotions were on a rollercoaster.What’s wrong with me?
“…Nadia, something.”
“Sokol, like loco.”
I froze. Students talking about me in the bathroom hadn’t happened since high school.AndI thought college was better. Most of the students ignored me until I started to rise.Ignore them.Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from listening to them.
“…professors are going crazy over her shit, but Nadia’s designs are nothing innovative. It’s absolute amateur garbage. Look at her online portfolio.”
“Horrible.”
“God, it gets worse. Look at this grandma’s craft shit.”
I frowned.I removed most of the knits.
“No way. We should get a petition to the alums to remove that ugly dress.”
“Professor Elan is so star struck with Paul Crane that she’s putting her before everyone else. I hear she’s going to Givenchy this summer.”
“What? No fucking way. We got to do something.”
“I think I heard she has a sick dad?”
“What does that have to do with anything? She’s ruining the integrity and reputation of our program. We didn’t pay all this money to have someone like her represent our best.”
