Ava's Wishes

by Karen Pokras

  “So you’re saying I’m a lost cause? Please! You have to give me another chance. I’ll pay you double. I’ll even sit in with your other student. Just please. If I don’t pass, I’ll have to take it again, and my advisor already warned me they aren’t going to be offering this class in the spring, because so many people move on to Statistics II.” Ava shuddered just thinking about it. Luckily, that wasn’t a required class for her. Just the thought of it made her break out in a cold sweat. She took a deep breath and continued, saying the words she hoped would not become a reality, “If I fail, I won’t be able to graduate on time.” Her tears began to flow freely. The thought of missing graduation and having to take Statistics for the fourth time, over the summer no less, was too much for Ava to handle.

  “Oh, all right,” Suzanne agreed hesitantly. “You can turn off the waterworks. You know you would have done much better as a drama major, don’t you?”

  Ava used everything within herself to control her eyes from rolling. The important thing was that Suzanne was going to continue to tutor her.

  “Honestly, Ava, I don’t know if I can even help you at this point. Are you at least willing to take it seriously this time?”

  She wiped her eyes and nodded.

  “You’re running out of chances, you know,” Suzanne stated, packing up her books. “Meet me in the library on Saturday at one o’clock and don’t be late.”

  “Thank you,” Ava replied meekly. She waited for Suzanne to leave the room, then regretfully pulled out her cell phone and called the gallery to let them know she would be missing work on Saturday.

  Just as she hung up, her phone rang again. Finally. Ava clicked the talk button, and the voice started before she even had a chance to say anything.

  “Sorry I couldn’t call you right away. We were reviewing for finals, and I’m already so lost in this class. Twentieth Century Literature, ugh! I don’t know how you creative types can stand this stuff. I’ve got Calculus IV next. Now there’s a subject that makes sense. There’s a right answer and a wrong answer, and a logical way to figure it out. Logic, Ava, simple logic. All that other stuff is just hokey bullshit if you ask me.”

  Ava laughed. Some days it was hard to believe her and Holly were actually related.

  “Tell you what, Hol. I’ll take your Literature exam for you, if you take my Statistics exam for me,” Ava offered.

  “I wish. Told you to transfer here last year when I started as a freshman, didn’t I? At the very least we could have tutored each other. How’s that going anyway?” Holly asked.

  “Not good, but it’s not the tutor, it’s the subject. I think I might fail … again.”

  “Is that why you sounded so down in your text?”

  “No.” Ava filled Holly in on art class and Carly’s attempts at being … funny? Come to think of it, Ava wasn’t sure what Carly’s intentions were, but they most definitely were not funny.

  “Aw, hon, I’m sorry. Carly was being an ass. She was probably just jealous you were the one getting the attention. I mean, honestly, can you blame her? After all, everyone knows you are the hottest Haines sister.”

  “Uh huh. Didn’t you say you had to get to Geometry or something?”

  “Actually it was Calculus IV, and yes, I do have to go. Feel better, sweets?” Holly asked.

  “A little. You sure you don’t want to switch places for exams?” Ava asked.

  “Look, you’re the one who wanted to go to a small school, Ava,” Holly reminded her sister. “You could totally sit in on my Literature exam here and no one would notice … you’d just be a number in my class of eighty. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure your professor would notice that his beautiful, tall, auburn-haired student was suddenly replaced by a short, chubby blonde.”

  “You’re not chubby, and you’re not short,” Ava corrected. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Okay, gorgeous? I don’t know about that. I’ll rescind chubby, but I’m sticking with height challenged … especially when standing next to you. Plus, there’s the dramatic difference in our hair color,” Holly said. “My point is, I’m pretty sure your teacher would notice.”

  Ava sighed.

  “Don’t stress, Ava. I have faith in you. Beauty and brains … you can do it. Anyway, this love fest needs to wrap up, I really do have to run.”

  “Thanks, Holly. You’ll do great also. Throw the logic out the window, and write from your heart. It works, trust me. Love you.”

  Chapter 4

  “Look, I said I was sorry, Ava, how long are you planning on staying mad at me?” Carly asked.

  Ava sat in the student center dining hall, pushing around the salad on her plate. She wished she no longer had to even eat meals in the dining hall. Wasn’t that one of the perks of being a senior? Getting the apartment, living off campus, eating normal food again? Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have time on most days to get back to her apartment in between classes to eat lunch, and by the time she thought of packing her own lunch, she was usually running late. A gourmet-less meal at the student center dining hall was generally the only option left. Salad was typically a safe choice.

  She took a sip of her iced tea. Almost two days had gone by, and she had yet to speak to her friend. “Oh, I don't know, Carly, maybe forever?”

  “Well, at least you're being reasonable,” Carly responded, taking a bite of her own lunch. It appeared to be a sandwich of some unidentifiable meat.

  Ava continued to make a swirling mixture of lettuce, chopped carrots, and salad dressing on her plate as her agitation grew. The more she twirled, the more she thought it looked like a modern art painting she remembered studying in Professor Morey’s Art History class last semester. Is this how the greats came up with their ideas? she wondered. Using food as a model churned with emotion?

  She had planned on having a quick bite to eat alone today before heading off to the studio to work on her project, when Carly sat down unexpectedly with her tray. Well, not really unexpectedly. They ate lunch together almost every Friday. Ava had hoped the cold shoulder treatment would have been enough of a hint to let Carly know she wasn’t ready to talk yet.

  “You went too far you know,” she said, continuing the melodic movements with her fork.

  “Will you at least admit he's cute?” Carly raised her eyebrows, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

  Ava looked at her friend. Of course he was cute. His hair was brown with just the right amount of natural red highlights. Highlights Ava paid good money to have put into her hair twice a year, hoping to achieve the same effect, only to be disappointed in both the outcome and resulting dent to her wallet. As if that wasn’t enough, the brown flecks in his incredible green eyes matched his perfect hair … well, perfectly. She had tried not to look directly into his eyes, but it was nearly impossible. They drew her in with unspoken words—words she worked hard to ignore. But, it wasn’t just the hair or the eyes, it was the lips. Ava had always had a thing for lips. Maybe it was because she liked to imagine herself kissing … no, she wasn’t going there with this guy. She didn’t care if he was cute. Right now she needed to stay focused. Besides, cute didn’t erase arrogance.

  “I see you smiling. I knew it!” Carly sat back in her chair looking smug.

  “Knew what? I haven't admitted anything, and I wasn't smiling. I was smirking. There's a difference.”

  “Oh really? Care to enlighten me?” Carly asked.

  “I'd love to, but I have to run.” Ava collected her barely eaten yet artistic plate of salad and placed it back on her cafeteria tray.

  “Wait! Do you want to hang out later?” she asked as Ava stood to leave.

  “I don’t think so,” Ava answered curtly.

  “You're still mad at me, really? I was just trying to be funny, Ava. Honest. I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear on my favorite paintbrush and oils I won’t do it again. Forgive me?” Batting her eyelashes, she smiled.

  Ava sighed. While she knew she should still be mad at her friend, she didn’t se
e the point. As much as she hated to admit it, Carly was just being Carly. It wasn’t the first time she had acted this way, and it wouldn’t be the last. “No, Carly, I have to work on my project for my Printmaking class, study for Statistics, finish my sketches, and then head over to the gallery for work tonight. Don't you have finals coming up?”

  “I already finished my Art History paper, and most of my portfolio projects.” Carly grinned. “I only have two sketches to finish up for Senaca’s class. We’re not all double majors you know. What about after work? Sounds like you’ll need a drink by then.”

  “Probably,” Ava agreed. “Or sleep. I’m not sure which one I’ll want more when eleven o’clock rolls around.”

  “Why are you working so late? I thought the gallery closed at nine-thirty on Friday nights. Is there an opening tonight you forgot to tell me about? You are still mad at me, aren’t you?”

  “No and no. The next big exhibit we have is that photography one coming up right after finals. That one called Images in Flight. I told you about it, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, the one where the crazy guy flies an airplane and takes pictures of the ground at the same time,” Carly responded.

  “Sort of. It’s not like he’s 30,000 feet up in the air and hanging out the window with one hand on the controls or anything, but yeah.” Ava paused, thinking about how it was Thomas Malloy actually managed to take those photos while flying an airplane at the same time. “Anyway, I can’t work this Saturday, and we have his exhibit coming up soon, so I’m putting in some extra time tonight.”

  “What’s up on Saturday? Hot date?” Carly asked.

  “Yeah, if you want to call a study session with my statistics tutor, Suzanne, a hot date.”

  Carly shuddered. “Um, no. If that’s your definition of a hot date, you need more help than I originally thought.”

  “Who says I need help?”

  “Wow, you really are stressed, Av. I’m just playing with you. You should consider that drink tonight. It’ll do you good.”

  “I guess. All right. Come by the gallery at eleven o’clock. I really do have to run, though. I’ll see you later.”

  Chapter 5

  “Ava, dear, what do you think about this?”

  Ava had only been working at the Main Street Gallery for six months, yet Cynthia Simms, the owner, seemed to value her opinion; more than her own at times. At first, Ava thought Cynthia was just testing her young intern. Perhaps she was. However, Cynthia always appeared satisfied with Ava’s responses, and Cynthia’s openings and exhibits were always a full house, thanks to Ava’s keen eye for arrangement. Over the six months Ava had been working there, Cynthia had promoted her from gofer, to file clerk, to assistant, to Cynthia’s artistic director. All unspoken and unpaid, of course. After all, this was an internship for college credit. Regardless, each time Ava was given more responsibilities and independence, a new intern was brought in to take over Ava’s previous menial tasks. As far as Ava could tell, she was the only one of the interns Cynthia showed any real interest in. She was also the first, and only, intern trusted to handle gallery openings. A first for Cynthia’s interns, who normally only worked during the day and behind the scenes.

  Securing a Main Street Gallery internship was no easy task. While there were plenty of art galleries in this quaint college town, the Main Street Gallery internships were some of the most sought after positions for art majors. The Main Street Gallery had a reputation for bringing some big name artists, and Cynthia Simms was known in the industry as one of the major players. Cynthia was quite picky about whom she brought into her gallery, and she rarely gave her interns any real responsibilities … that is until she agreed to take Ava Haines on as an intern. Ava impressed her from the moment they met at the interview. Not only did Ava have an interest in both business and art, she had done her research. She knew all about Cynthia and what exhibits had recently come through the gallery, as well as what exhibits were coming through over the next month. Cynthia couldn’t help but be intrigued. However, what really captured her attention was when Ava subtly suggested adjusting an overhead spotlight just slightly to accentuate one of the paintings on the current exhibit. At first, Cynthia was put off at the moxie Ava demonstrated, but she humored Ava and adjusted the light. The difference was stunning. She hired Ava on the spot.

  Ava took a step back. With the Images In Flight exhibit just one week away, she wanted to be sure everything would be perfect. “I think the photo of the meadows should be to the right of the photo of the lake, and the one of the mountains should be the showcase piece. It should be what patrons see as they enter the gallery.”

  Cynthia stood next to Ava and tilted her head, trying to see what Ava was seeing so clearly. “Yes … yes … you are absolutely right.” She promptly switched the photocopied picture of the meadows—provided by the photographer for planning purposes—with the copy of mountains piece. “Of course.”

  Ava marked her clipboard with the approved layout before removing the paper copies, being careful not to tear them as she removed their tape.

  She was about to re-hang the paintings of the current exhibit, which still had another week to go, when a deep voice startled her, “I agree.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, we’re closed,” Ava began. She wished there were some sort of bell for the front door to let her know when a customer walked in. Cynthia was against having one. She thought it would disturb the zen-like atmosphere she was trying to create in the gallery.

  Ava wondered why Cynthia hadn’t locked the doors to the gallery yet. They’d been officially closed to the public for a while now. She supposed it was because it was Friday night, and there were still people mulling about. Cynthia wasn’t one to turn down a sale … even if it was after hours.

  “No, no, it’s okay, Ava. This is Thomas Malloy, our esteemed photographer. I guess I forgot to tell you he’d be stopping by tonight to drop off some promotional materials. Thomas, this is my intern, Ava. I didn’t realize that the two of you hadn’t met yet.”

  “Oh,” Ava said, completely embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. It’s very nice to meet you, sir, Mr. Malloy. Your work is wonderful … really. I’m a big fan. We’re so very excited to have your exhibit here. It’s great … I’m sorry, I’m babbling. I get a little star struck sometimes when I meet the artists.”

  Thomas Malloy laughed. A strong, sexy, hearty laugh, which Ava couldn’t help but notice came from sensual, yet soft looking lips. No. She needed to stay focused. School. Work. Graduation. And definitely not one of Cynthia’s clients. Not one of Cynthia’s extremely good-looking, sexy clients with amazing lips. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

  “I’m flattered,” he said, “but the pleasure is all mine. Please, call me Thomas. Cynthia says you have a real talent for arranging art. From what I just saw, I can see you really know your stuff.”

  “Oh,” Ava stammered, thrown off a little by his English accent, something else to add to her list of things to ignore. She tried desperately not to sound like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. “It’s easy when I have great pieces to work with.” Cringe.

  “You know the door’s not locked— Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting? You did tell me to come at eleven, didn’t you, Ava?” Carly asked as she practically bounced into the gallery wearing a tight fitting, low cut, and very short, sparkly purple dress.

  Where exactly were they going for that drink, a strip club? Not to mention the fact that it was December. Wasn’t Carly freezing? Ava was feeling completely and inadequately under-dressed in her blue sweater and black pants, until she noticed Thomas giving Carly a strange look that resembled a stifled laugh. Ava had to admit; Carly did look pretty ridiculous in that get up.

  “Right,” he said. “Well, Cynthia, I’ve got those extra postcards you’ve asked for, as well as business cards, and some other miscellaneous promotional items here. Also, the photos for the opening will be delivered in the next day or so. I can see my exhibit is in very capable hands.” Thomas nod
ded to Ava and smiled. “I was going to see if you and Cynthia wanted to join me for a late cocktail, but it seems as if you maybe have other plans?” Thomas looked at Carly with that weird stifled laugh look once again.

  “Oh, Thomas, darling,” Cynthia replied with a sigh. “Can we make another time? I’m afraid I must get my beauty sleep tonight. It’s been a very long day, and tomorrow it seems I’m not going to have my star intern with me to help in the gallery.” Cynthia lightly touched Ava on the shoulder and smiled.

  “Ah, big plans this weekend?” Thomas asked, looking at Ava.

  “Oh,” Ava answered. Why did his questions make her so uncomfortable? “No, I’ve just got to study. I’ve got final exams coming up this week.”

  “Yes, I remember those days. I’m not as old as I look you know,” he said, winking.

  Ava wondered exactly how old he was. If she had to guess, she’d say he was in his early forties. “You don’t look old at all. I mean …” She laughed nervously, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

  “What she means is that there’s no reason you can’t come out with us tonight! We were just going out for a drink. Isn’t that right, Ava?” Carly blurted.

  Chapter 6

  “What?” Carly looked at Ava from across the table as she waited for her drink to arrive.

  Ava stopped glaring at Carly long enough to look around the crowded bar before she started talking. They were lucky to get a table at The Corner Spot that night. Friday nights at eleven o’clock was one of The Spot’s busiest times, especially when school was in session. Securing the table was a major score. Thomas had ordered the first round of drinks and promptly excused himself to make a quick phone call outside.

  “Well, let me see now. First you come to the gallery looking like you forgot to put on half of your outfit—”