by Riley Rivers
He spent a minute fumbling with his phone to set his alarm to go off in a couple hours, before setting it down by his head. Up at six, which would give him ’til nine to camp out in the library getting work done before he would need to pack up and get ready to drive over to the warehouse for his ten pm shift. Off at six, pass out until eleven, then up to head to the gym to shower, and from there to the laundromat. Laundry took an hour and a half, which was easy study time, then back to campus to park and go back to the library—and maybe grab some more sleep before his astronomy lab. Spend a couple hours after class on astronomy homework to try to get it out of the way, then at midnight drive over to the Meijer on the nicer side of Detroit where he was a little less likely to get murdered, park, and sleep.
Cameron closed his eyes and breathed out.
***
Tuesday and Wednesday passed in a blur of work, school, and sleep when he could grab it, which was basically the story of Cameron’s life. By the time he clocked off shift at six am Thursday morning, he was very, very ready to curl up in his trunk.
The only positive side to getting off work at six was that the roads were pretty empty. The drive from work to campus was pretty much a straight shot of highway, and by fifteen to eight, he was finally driving into a structure to park.
His fingers shook as he set his alarm for noon. It would only give him two hours to get up and over to Life Drawing, but that class was ’til five and then he had Astronomy six to ten, and if he was going to survive the next nine hours and have a hope of paying attention and actually participating in class, he needed as much sleep as he could get.
But tomorrow was Friday, thank fuck. Friday he didn’t have any classes, just his regular shift that started at ten pm and went ‘til six on Saturday morning. It meant that instead of trying to work ‘til midnight after Astronomy, he could pretty much go straight to bed and catch up on sleep for real before holing up in the library or a lab until it was time to go to work.
He dropped off to sleep fairly quickly and, as was typical now, slept like the dead until his alarm jolted him awake.
He also woke up ravenous, as was also typical, so once he’d crawled out of his trunk and made it back into the driver’s seat, he grabbed his family-sized pack of trail mix. After inhaling the first couple mouthfuls, he was able to manage to slow his chewing and take his time for the next several. Then he reached for his water bottle, which, as always, he’d filled right before leaving for work.
Cameron ended up also polishing off an apple, two heaping spoonfuls of peanut butter, and finishing the entire water bottle before he felt less like his stomach was caving in, but he still pulled out his stash of jerky to slowly chew over a piece. He had one apple left, as well as a few carrots, so he’d take those and make a couple peanut butter sandwiches with the last of his bread and be set for the evening. At least one plus side to the cold was his perishables having a much longer time limit.
He’d have to pick up some more groceries tomorrow too, but he reminded himself that it was okay. With the two extra shifts he’d taken and the third one coming up, he was still going to be within his budget even with having to factor in ninety dollars a pop per tire. It was okay. He’d be okay.
Cameron sighed and checked the time. He had an hour and forty five minutes ’til Life Drawing. And right now, he really wanted a shower and to change so he’d feel a little less like death.
Fuck it, he’d made the trip to Lifetime Fitness and back in way less time. Plus, the sooner he headed out to do the thing, the sooner he’d be done.
His phone vibrated with an alert just as he was pulling into the parking lot of Lifetime, so Cameron pulled it out of his pocket after he’d thrown a change of clothes and his toiletry kit into his duffel, unlocking his phone as he walked across the parking lot to the gym.
He nearly walked into the door to see that it was an email from Ezra.
The title of the email was “in regards to our conversation about an internship” and Cameron had to force himself to shove his phone back into his pocket and try to keep from hyperventilating. The email would still be there in twenty minutes, after Cameron had showered and changed and brushed his teeth and stuff.
He was suddenly so antsy he could barely think, every part of him wanting to read what Ezra had said, but it was an email. It could wait. He needed to take care of other things first. Bathroom, for one.
Okay. Okay, okay okay. Okay, cool. He’d take care of himself and get back to his car. He was allowed to read the email once he’d done all those things. That was the plan.
Okay.
***
Dear Cameron,
I hope this email finds you well. I’m writing because I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation on Monday and wanted to follow up with you. I was quite serious in regards to my offer of an internship. If you are interested we’ll discuss things further, but I’d be looking for at least eight hours a week if possible, though more would be great depending on what your school and personal schedule would allow. Obviously I understand that your hours might need to be flexible, but again, we can talk about it more if you do end up wanting the position.
I know it’s probably too late in the semester for it to count for college credit, but if the relationship lasts in the way I hope it will and continues past December, I’d be happy to do whatever was needed for you to get credit for the internship for the winter semester. Regardless of college credit, you will be paid for your time.
Please get back to me at your earliest convenience. Email is fine, but a phone call would be preferable if you are able, so we can talk things through.
Yours,
Ezra
Cameron had read the email three times in the parking lot of the Lifetime Fitness, driven back to Wayne State, parked, read it again as he’d walked over to the building where he had his drawing class, and was currently sitting in an empty classroom reading it over and over, head spinning.
Truth be told, he had sort of brushed away the whole internship thing as a one-off end to a confusing but good afternoon, and hadn’t ever expected anything more. Even with Ezra taking Cameron’s information… Cameron hadn’t heard from him, and had been too busy to stew anyway. Or okay, maybe he had stewed a little bit, but he’d tried to talk himself out of it. Ezra was a busy man. He had important things to do. He probably barely even remembered an awkward lunch with some college kid, let alone the fact that he’d brought up an internship or whatever.
He’d tried to tell himself to calm down, and he’d done a decent job of getting the idea out of his head, squashing the disappointment that had risen up along with the hope.
And now this.
Cameron read through the email again. Eight hours a week. He could totally manage that. Fridays were his “off” days (kinda), but he would totally sacrifice them in the name of an internship with Ezra Green. Forget that it would look great on a resume, but possible college credit too, if things worked out? That would neatly check off the “hands-on internship” his program required for graduation—and being paid for it? And… more time with Ezra would be nice. Cameron liked the guy. He was interesting to talk to, and from his guest-speaking and everything, he seemed like he would be a good person to learn from. Ezra gave off a vibe that was easy to warm up to. Patient. Understanding. Not so quick to anger, maybe.
Cameron was definitely up to spending more time with him.
To learn.
Absolutely.
It would suck having to give up some study time, and losing out on the sleep would be… hard. But it was nothing that Cameron couldn’t handle. He’d done worse for less. And this was such a ridiculously good opportunity. He couldn’t say no, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.
He tried and failed to compose a reply email for much too long, continually drifting back to Ezra’s request for a phone call. Cameron could totally do that. Call him. Ezra had left a number right underneath his name. Cameron could call him. In fact, Ezra had even said that he wanted Cameron to. That he pref
erred it.
Right. He just had to… do that.
Cameron took a deep breath and saved Ezra’s number into his phone, then went and called it, hand shaking as he pressed his phone to his ear. Relax. Relax. He’ll probably be busy anyway and you’ll just be leaving a message. Come one, you can do this. “Hi, this is Cameron. I’m getting back to you in regards to your offer of the internship—”
“Hello, Ezra Green speaking.”
Oh fuck, oh god, not a message, not a message—“Hi! Um, hello. Um,” fuck “This is Cameron? Drake. Cameron Drake.”
A throaty chuckle. “Hello Cameron. Great to hear from you. How are you doing?”
“I-I’m good. I, uh, I was—I wanted to respond to your email and you said you preferred a call, so um. Yes. Calling.” Fuck.
“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well,” Ezra said, in this warm way that made it sound like he was smiling. “And thanks for getting back to me.”
“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”
“I’m hoping this means that you’re interested in the internship, and not that you’re calling me to turn it down.”
“I am definitely not turning it down,” Cameron said. “I am very much interested.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Do you have a moment now, and we could maybe discuss it? Or we could arrange another time.”
Cameron glanced at the clock on the wall in the classroom. Twenty to two. That would be plenty of time. “I’m good to talk now, if, um, if you are.”
“Great. Does that work for you then? Eight hours a week?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said quickly. “That works fine, depending on the day. You wanted a weekday, right?”
“I did, and I do understand you have a school schedule. What days work best for you?”
“Friday would be best,” Cameron said. “But I could do Tuesdays too.” He tried not to regret the words as he offered them up. He had work Monday night, so he got off Tuesday at six in the morning. He only had one class, being Astronomy in the evening from six ’til ten, so he could work a Tuesday, he just would really rather not.
But he would if he had to. No question.
“Fridays are perfect. They tend to be a restaurant day, so it’d be a good day to have you on board.”
“Restaurant day?”
“Whenever I’m freelance-hired to shoot at a restaurant for a paper or a magazine, I like to schedule them on Fridays if I can. Force of habit from when I was younger and Fridays were one of my free days. Now I just consider it a lucky day and a start to the weekend.” Another chuckle. “Even if I’m often working on the weekends.”
“Oh.”
“And the days that I don’t have a gig, I’ll still have plenty for you to do. Actually, how are you at scheduling?”
“Pretty good,” Cameron was able to say with finality. He lived and died by his to-the-minute schedule.
“Perfect. And it’s clear you’re organized. I’ve flown solo for a long time and haven’t had a producer in a while.”
Cameron blanched. “Producer?”
“Well, I won’t get too ahead of myself. Obviously you’re interested in the photography side. But learning all aspects of the business is important.”
“Right, yeah, of course. I know! I know, I just mean…” Cameron took a deep breath. Don’t blow this.“I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m happy to learn anything. Everything.”
“I kind of thought so,” Ezra said. “And I’m glad to hear it. Let’s count on Friday being a full eight hours then, starting at my studio in Franklin. Say eight to four? Some days might have to start earlier, if there’s an earlier call time, but we can say eight to four for a typical day.”
“Yeah, that’d be good. I can do that.” Franklin was about half an hour away from Wayne. He could get out of Thursday night Astronomy lab at ten, maybe knock out an hour of study time in the library, then drive straight to the Meijer to sleep. If he got up at six, that’d be plenty of time to drive to a Lifetime to shower and get ready and stuff and maybe try to eke out a little bit more homework time before he needed to head over to Franklin. He had his regular shift at the warehouse on Fridays, but that wasn’t until ten. If he finished with Ezra at four, that still gave him some downtime to study and sleep.
This could work.
“Perfect. Now, I don’t want to keep you hanging in terms of compensation. This will be a paid position, after all. I was thinking twenty an hour would be fair, paid weekly.”
Cameron opened his mouth and no sound came out.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Twenty an hour? That was literally double what he made at the warehouse. An eight hour shift making that much? For something he’d definitely be willing to do for free, just for the experience and resume boost?
Holy shit.
“Cameron?”
“Yes!” Cameron burst out. “I mean yes, sorry. I’m here. Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “That all sounds good. It all sounds um, really, really good.”
“Good,” Ezra said, the warmth back in his voice. “I’d love to get you on board right away, if you’re able to. Are you available tomorrow?”
Cameron froze, words stuck in his throat. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to so badly say yes. But he was stretched pretty thin this week as it was. Projects in Focus Photography and in Life Drawing both due next week, a test in his Survey class next Tuesday he needed to study for, on top of the Astronomy homework he was definitely going to get tonight… and he had that extra shift coming up Sunday night too. Plus, he still needed to go grocery shopping.
Then again, if he were to take the job—which he was absolutely going to do—he was going to have to get used to the new schedule sooner rather than later.
Maybe he could try to compromise?
When altogether too much time had passed, Cameron ventured, “Do you mind if we made tomorrow like, a half day? Or—or just started a few hours later. Maybe ten? Instead of eight? Just for tomorrow.”
“If you have something going on already, I don’t mind us waiting until next week.”
“No, no! Tomorrow’s good, really. I just have a project for Focus Photography that I’m finishing up, and I was going to use the morning.” Well, that and also sleep, but he could stand not telling Ezra that particular detail.
“Ten would be fine then,” Ezra said easily. “I’ll go ahead and prepare a W2 for you to fill out when you get here. In terms of payment, would you prefer a paycheck or direct deposit?”
“D-deposit would be great. If that’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all. Just bring your information with you when you come tomorrow. Okay?”
“Right, okay.”
“Oh—and I’ll send you my address. May I text it to you? Or would you prefer email?”
“Texting works fine,” Cameron said, still feeling a little over his head.
“Great. Then I’ll go ahead and text you my address, and I’ll see you tomorrow at ten. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Great,” Cameron said weakly. “I mean yeah, me too.”
“Alright then. You have a good rest of your day, okay?”
“Thank you. Um, you too.”
Ezra hung up, and Cameron pulled his phone away from his ear. He was still trembling slightly, coming down off of anxiety and adrenaline, and he spent a good long moment just staring at the phone in his hands. This was really happening. It wasn’t just some fever dream. He was going to intern for Ezra Green, and Ezra seemed to be one hundred percent on board with Cameron actually learning and working with him. On top of that, being paid for it?
Twenty fucking dollars an hour. After taxes that was seventeen dollars an hour into his pocket. An hour with Ezra would be like working two and half at the warehouse, and Cameron couldn’t believe his luck.
Obviously he wouldn’t count his chickens—he’d have to wait and see how things went for the next few weeks at least, but maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have to take on Sunday night shifts at the warehouse anymore. Even just working tomorrow fro
m ten to four would make him the rest of the money he needed for his new tires.
He’d still make his upcoming Sunday shift of course. He wasn’t going to say no to a little extra money where he can get it, especially since he’d made the commitment to work. But going forward, if he could go down a shift at the warehouse and still make more money, that would be huge.
God, okay, he needed to stop. Counting chickens before they hatched just led to disappointment when the eggs all ended up rotten.
Still. It was hard to help having hope.
Chapter Four
In the end, Cameron decided to skip the extra time for schoolwork in favor of extra sleep. The last thing he wanted was to show up at his introductory day at Ezra’s studio and look like he needed to take a nap on the floor.
Besides, he’d be done at four. Taking driving back and forth into account, that still gave him about six hours in the undergrad library before he had to go to the warehouse. And then Saturday and Sunday he actually was blessedly off until his shifts in the evening. He’d be able to catch up on the rest of his school stuff then.
It was surreal to plug the address Ezra had given him into his phone and start the drive over to Ezra’s studio. It was even more surreal once he started to drive through Franklin. Cameron hadn’t ever been to Franklin before. He’d heard plenty about it—enough to know that it was fancy—but driving through it and actually seeing the houses was… something else. He couldn’t imagine ever needing that much space. Ever. Or having stuff to fill the space with. Though he guessed that probably the people who lived in Franklin were also the type of people to collect art. Maybe even photography. Who knows, maybe one day someone in Franklin would hang a picture Cameron had taken on their wall or something.
A guy could dream.
His GPS had him take a right, going further into a subdivision, and Camera gave the screen a confused look. He had assumed he was going to Ezra’s studio. Ezra had specifically said that the address was to his home studio, hadn’t he? It was kind of weird to think about a photography studio in the middle of Franklin suburbia.
