Iron & Wine

by Candace Osmond

  ***

  Monday morning at school was crazy. Everyone in my class was talking about their interview with Celadine. Apparently, no one had heard a reply back yet, which 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 wished she’d ignore me 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 watch Mr. Vanner open it. To everyone’s surprise, 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 toward the front. Just before she left the room, she glanced back at me, and only me, and gave me a triumphant and evil grin. When the door closed, the entire class started up in conversation about what had just happened. I sat there, dazed. I stared out the French doors beside my desk, 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 the smug look I expected, 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 them harder and tighter across her chest. The chick had some serious anger issues. I wanted 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.

  She looked at me strangely. "Did Ms. Carmichael not give you the message?"

  "Um, yes she did. But I was just making sure," I told her.

  "Yes, you have the position, if you want it."

  "Why couldn't you just tell me yourself?"

  She grinned a little. "Because I thought it would be amusing to have her deliver the message to you," she explained.

  I thought about that for a moment. It was pretty funny, mean, but funny.

  "Thank you," I said. Just then Celadine came out of her office and gracefully glided toward us.

  "So, I assume you got my message? I hope you will accept."

  "Yes, of course, I will! Thank you so much for this opportunity," I replied.

  "Very well then, when can you start?" she quickly asked.

  "Um, right away I guess."

  "Good. Come with me and I’ll show you around. Listen carefully. I do not like to repeat myself," she ordered, already walking away in the direction of the showroom.

  I scuttled after her, wondering if I should take notes or something. The gallery was huge. It took us about two hours to go over everything as we walked around.

  "So, basically, your main concern is to do what I tell you. If I need errands run, you do them. If I need the filing done, you do it. Freight comes in on Tuesdays, we hold free art classes on Wednesday nights and most of our showings are on Fridays. If you ever need anything when I am not here, Mona will be happy to help you," Celadine explained. Mona was the lifeless desk clerk.

  "Okay, sounds good." I tried to store everything away in my mind as she spoke.

  "We’re done for today. I would like you to come by tomorrow after school for a few hours. It's Tuesday and it will be a great time for you to learn how to receive and put away the freight shipments.”

  I nodded. "Sure, I’ll be here around four thirty."

  "We’ll see you then," she replied and nodded. She then turned and walked swiftly away to her office. On my way out I gave Mona a wave and she just nodded. It was better than the glare I usually got.