She didn't say anything else and reluctantly took the seat next to me. I was kind of hoping she would have chosen another one. Now I have to sit next to her. There goes my idea of avoiding her.
The day went by pretty fast. I met Julie and Will for lunch and he told me all about Max Carmichael.
"Wow, I feel so bad for you Avery. Max is a cold hearted bitch," he exclaimed. "I went to high school with her. She's something' else. Her family is part of this rich group of upper class people; I've never even known her to have any actual friends."
“If she’s from such a high profile family then why did she attend a public school?” Julie asked.
“I have no idea,” Will replied. “Everyone else in her family attended some fancy private school but Max didn’t.”
"Oh well, I’ll deal with it I guess. I'm just going to ignore her best I can."
"Good luck, sounds like she's got it out for you," Julie added. "And you're competition."
I rolled my eyes and finished my coffee and muffin. I really didn't want this to be a big thing. Maybe Max will just grow up and leave me alone…or maybe not.
Chapter Six-Competition
The week went by quickly. I avoided Max like the plague, trying to keep to myself at all times. Naturally, since we sat next to one another, there were a few incidences where our paths crossed and she seemed to intentionally bump my shoulder or mutter insulting comments under her breath, but I kept my cool. Will became a regular part of mine and Julie’s life. We went to school with him, we hung out at the cafe while he was working and he hung out with us when he wasn't. We had regular movie nights and Will showed us all the great spots in the city like the waterfront and the outdoor theatre downtown. I was settling into a comfortable routine and happy with the addition to our tiny group. Life in the city wasn’t so bad.
"So, I think I might look for a part time job," announced Julie one day. The two of us were hanging out at the cafe on the old brown leather couch where we usually sat, while Will was working. Well, he was sitting on the arm of the couch while keeping an eye on the counter. "You know, for some extra spending money."
"Yeah, I was thinking that too. Tess gives me money when I need it, but it would be nice to earn some myself. Plus, it would give us something to do while Will is supposed to be working." I grinned at him.
"Hey, I don't mind you being here, it keeps me company when it's slow. But if you're looking for part time work I know that a gallery downtown is looking for an assistant."
"What gallery?” I asked.
"Um, I think it’s called Gallery Danes or something," he replied.
My heart jumped at the name. "Really, are you sure that's the one?" Gallery Danes was my favorite gallery in the city, the world even. Tess took me there once when I was younger. I instantly fell in love and obsessed over it for years. To work there would be a dream.
"Yeah, I’m positive. I read about it in the paper at school yesterday. Oh, and I also read that the school library is looking for someone too," he added to Julie.
She brightened with a smile. "Cool. I guess we know what we're doing tomorrow,” she said to me.
I sat back on the couch and smiled at the thought of working at Gallery Danes. But I was just a student. Would I stand a chance at getting a job like that?
I parked my bike on the side of the building where there are usually a few bicycles and motorcycles. I took off my helmet and laid it on the seat. Hopefully my hair wasn't scary looking. I quickly did a flip and untangled it the best I could with my fingers. I caught a glimpse of myself in my side mirror. Good enough, I guess. I did a quick rub under my eyes to make sure no makeup had run and took a deep breath as I walked inside the gallery.
Man, it was breathtaking! The cathedral ceilings were at least fifteen feet high and everything inside was white and massive. The cold marble floors stretched all the way to a large front desk crafted out of shiny metal. I walked up to the desk clerk to let her know that I was here for the open interview. She completely ignored me. After a few seconds she finally looked up from her computer. Her tired grey eyes washed away against her pale complexion, the poor thing looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a very flat and bored tone.
"Uh, yes, I'm here for the interview," I replied. "With Celadine Danes."
The clerk eyed me suspiciously and then rolled her eyes before turning back to her computer.
"Go sit down over there with the others, I’ll let Ms. Danes know that you are here." And then she went back to completely ignoring me.
I brushed that confrontation off for the time being. I needed to focus for the interview. I so badly wanted to work here. I'd work here for free for Pete's sake, if they'd have me.
I turned into the waiting area only to find about a dozen other kids from school here for the interview as well. Oh well, a bit of healthy competition never hurt anyone.
Then I noticed Max, the evil blonde bitch herself, just sitting there with her legs crossed like a super model and her usual angry set look on her face. The chairs on either side of her were empty; no one would dare sit next to her. She literally was like the plague.
I boldly made my way over to Max and plunked down on the chair to her left. I heard quiet whispers of shock from the rest but Max just shot me a look so cold I would have froze to death on the spot, if possible. I just smiled a brazen smile back at her and grabbed a magazine from the table in front of us and pretended to read it. God I hated her. But, if there would be any competition at all, she would be the healthiest, so to speak.
It seemed like an eternity as everyone went in and out of the interview. In the end, only Max and I were left.
"You know, you can leave now," she suggested. "I won't tell anyone."
What the hell was she doing? Did she actually think that she could intimidate me?
"Now, why would I do that?" I asked, playing along.
"Because you know, deep down, that you won't get this job over me. I've worked far too long and hard for this job and it shows in my portfolio." She seemed a little unsure of herself as she said this. "So, to save yourself the trouble, I suggest you just leave. I'm just trying to offer you some friendly advice."
I just stared at her in amazement. She actually believed this. She actually believed that I was not good enough to get this job.
I smiled coolly and said, "Now why the hell would I want the likes of you as a friend Max? Why would anyone for that matter?" I knew this was hitting low, but I didn't care. I'd had enough of her attitude.
"Oh, maybe, that’s why you don't have any friends?" Her jaw dropped as I added that. She was about to come back at me with something even more cruel I’m sure, but the desk clerk called to her.
"Ms. Danes is ready for you now." She motioned towards the door with her hand then went back to her computer. I smiled at Max and simply said, "Good luck."
Max got up and strutted into the interview room without even so much as a glance back at me. She was in there for a good twenty minutes or so before she emerged. She looked at me with a fake surprised look.
"Oh, you’re still here?" she asked. I just ignored her and continued pretending to read my magazine.
"Well, good luck, although, I'm sure I got the job, Celadine loved my portfolio." She grabbed her jacket from the chair next to me and turned on her heel as she left, blonde hair swinging back and forth as she strutted out.
"Avery?" asked the very bored desk clerk. I looked up at her in acknowledgement. "Ms. Danes is ready for you now." She gestured towards the door just as before. I smiled in thanks and made my way into the room.
At first I was taken aback by the sight of Celadine. I expected an old artsy looking woman with grey hair and glasses or something. But, instead, I stood looking at a young woman in her late twenties or maybe early thirties, creamy skin and cat-like dark violet eyes that were f
ramed in thick black eyelashes. Her hair was a heap and tangle of black dread locks that she kept whooshed on top of her head. She was kind of scary, yet absolutely stunning. She smiled at me and motioned towards the chair in front of her. "Sit down, please," she offered with a slight accent that I couldn't quite place.
I didn't know what to say, I was fairly confident all day until this moment. I stuttered as I said, "It's very nice to meet you Ms. Danes, thanks for having me." That sounded so lame. I mentally slapped myself.
"Please, call me Celadine, I insist. Formal references make me feel...old." She smiled at some private joke I wasn't getting. "Now, why do you want this job Avery?" she asked bluntly.
This caught me off guard. "Um, well. Uh, I like art, a lot." I cringed. Did I really just say that? 'I like art'? Geez, Max was right.
Celadine laughed at my little moment. "Well, one would hope so Avery, any other reasons?" Was she just amusing me or did she actually consider me a candidate after that?
"Well, ever since I knew I wanted to attend the school for arts here in the city I automatically knew that this is the gallery that I wanted to work at some day. I love the collections that you choose to show here, the effect and feeling that each collection gives is moving and unique to this gallery. My aunt is a designer and she helped bring out the creative person inside of me at a very young age."
"Oh, how young, may I ask?" Celadine interrupted me.
"I guess about six years old. She would give me a canvas and a brush and tell me to go to town. At the age of ten I probably had more art supplies at my disposal than any mature artist." I smiled at the thought of my awesome aunt.
"So you lived with your aunt as a child?" Celadine asked.
"Ah, yeah, my dad was always away on work so Tess took me when I was an infant. I've been with her ever since." This was kind of getting off topic for an art gallery interview. But who was I to say?
Celadine was looking at me, eyeing me curiously. "I see, and your mother, where is she, if you don't mind me asking?"
I looked down at my hands. I didn't really know much at all about her and it always saddened me to think of her. I mean what kind of mom doesn't want her own kid?
"She...left, when I was a baby." I continued to stare at my hands, fidgeting with a strand of my hair.
"I'm terribly sorry to hear that, and I’m sorry for asking such an intrusive question," she apologized. "Sometimes I don’t think before I speak."
"Um, that’s okay," I replied. "Do you want to see my portfolio?" I asked, trying to get off of this uncomfortable topic.
"Yes, I do, of course. Hand it here." She held out her hand, getting back on track.
I passed her my black portfolio. It was a gift from Tess when I finished ninth grade. Before that, I was keeping all my work in shoe boxes. Celadine flipped through everything with an expressionless face. When she was done she handed it back to me without a word. I was starting to get self conscious; did she not like anything in there at all? There was a brief, uncomfortable silence for a moment.
She stared at me curiously, elbows on the desk and her head resting on her palms. I just stared back at her, what else was I going to do?
Finally, she broke the silence. "Well, this was an interesting interview. I have a few people that I am considering, give me a few days and I will call to let you know either way," she said coolly.
"Okay, thank you for seeing me. I look forward to your call." I stood up and shook her hand. Wow, she was unusually chilly, like a doctor. As I turned to leave, I looked back at the strange woman. "Oh, by the way, good luck with the Bryant showing this weekend." I knew she was showing his line because it was in the paper this morning. She looked surprised and impressed.
"Thank you, I’m very excited to work with him. You are welcome to come to the showing if you like," she offered.
"Wow! Thank you." I smiled at her and left the room a little more confident than a few seconds ago, but completely unsure of how the interview went. She seemed genuinely interested in me personally, but showed nothing towards my work. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
Chapter Seven-A Work of Art
Three days went by with no word from the gallery. I was beginning to think that I never got the job. I wouldn't really care, as long as Max didn't get it over me. I would never hear the end if she got it. I would have to changes classes. Hell, I’d have to change schools. I was slumped on the couch with a bucket of ice cream and some nachos when Julie came home to find me there.
"Avery! Tell me you did not sit here the whole day and mope?!" she cried as she attempted to grab the bucket from me.
"Yeah, so what if I did?" I grunted. "What's the big deal?"
"The 'big deal' is that you haven’t even heard from the gallery and you’re acting as if you never got the job!” she yelled.
"But Celadine barely even looked at my portfolio Jules! Oh, but she loved Max's, stupid Max," I complained as I scooped another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. "Why did I have to get stuck sitting next to someone like that?"
Julie plopped down on the couch next to me and put her arm around me.
"What I was trying to say was how could you think that you didn't get it? You're amazing and so is your work. You second guess yourself way too much Avery."
I smiled at that. How does she do it? She can make me feel better about something in two seconds, and here I spent the entire weekend re-thinking my career choice. I laughed at how ridiculous I was.
"You know, maybe you should become a guidance counsellor or something. You always know the right things to say to someone," I told her.
"Nah, you’re crazy enough for me to deal with!" she joked and grabbed the spoon from hand.
****
Monday morning at school was crazy. Everyone in my class was talking about their interview with Celadine. Apparently no one heard a reply back yet, and this made me feel a little better.
Max refused to look at me or even acknowledge my existence at all. Good. I didn't want to talk to her either. I wish she treated me like this all the time actually, it was nice and quiet.
The day rolled on smoothly as we learned about perspective drawing. I found it a little hard to concentrate as I worried about my interview; I hadn't heard anyone say that Celadine asked them any personal questions like she did with me. What did that mean?
Just then, there came a knock at the door. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look up when Mr. Vanner opened it. In stepped the concierge from the gallery, she looked awkward and uncomfortable away from her desk. The whole feel of the room changed as she looked around, searching. Her tired eyes found mine for a brief moment, and my heart did a little flip flop. But then her eyes landed on Max and she grinned.
"I am sorry to interrupt your schooling, but I need to have a word with Miss Carmichael." You could almost feel the disappointment fill the room as Max got up from her stool and strutted towards the front. Just before she left the room, she glanced back at me, and only me, to give a triumphant and evil grin. When the door closed, the entire class started up in conversation about what just happened. I just sat there, dazed. I stared out the French doors that I sat beside, thinking how much I was going to miss them when I had to change schools to get away from Max.
A few minutes later, Max returned to class. But instead of her expected smug look, she had a furious and almost embarrassed red face. She stomped over to her stool next to mine and sat down without a word. No one dared ask her what happened, people were afraid of her enough as it was.
Mr. Vanner picked up where we left off, deciding it was best to leave Max alone for now, obviously not wanting to deal with an angry teenage girl. She just sat there, staring straight ahead, hardly even blinking. I could feel the tension radiating from her, literally. There was an intense heat actually coming from Max and her fingers were making white indentations on her arms as she crossed t
hem harder and tighter across her chest. This chick had some serious anger issues. I wanted so badly to ask her what happened, but I managed not to. Class ended and everyone got up to leave, forgetting all about what had happened by then, but not me. I managed to make eye contact with Max while she was putting her stuff away in her bag.
"Hey, what happened out there? Is everything okay?" I asked, not really caring. I just wanted to know what was going on.
"Like you don't already know," she snapped." You got the gallery job, bitch." She began to walk away, throwing her bag over her shoulder. I just stood there for a second, in shock. Was this some kind of joke on her part? I ran and grabbed her arm.
"Hey! You don't need to talk to me like that!" I told her. "I was just asking, obviously something happened out in the hallway."
"Yeah something happened!" Max yelled into my face. "I was used as a messenger to tell you that you had it!"
"But why couldn't she just tell me herself?" I asked, confused.
"I don't know, maybe she doesn't like you! I'd believe it." And she turned quickly as she left, blonde hair swinging viscously back and forth and her heels practically leaving holes in the floor when she did.
After school, I jumped on my bike and flew over to the gallery. I had to check with Celadine to make sure that this wasn't some crazy joke. Once there, I approached the front desk. The concierge looked up at me with as much of a smile as she could muster up. She seemed so unmotivated in everything that she did.
"Hello Avery. Are you here to see Celadine?" she asked flatly.
"Ah, yes, I guess I am," I replied. "Hey, did I actually get the job here?" I asked her.
Iron & Wine (The Iron World Series) Page 4
