“It’s okay,” Gabe cooed, holding my hair back as I leaned over the chipped porcelain toilet in our bathroom. “Do you want some more water?”
He handed me a cup and I gulped down the remaining liquid.
“Here’re more towels,” said Teagan, entering the bathroom. “You okay?”
I sat up. “I just can’t believe it,” I said for probably the two-hundredth time that night.
“We know,” said Gabe, rubbing my back.
After Alida had said Daphne’s name, it was as if time stood still. All I knew is that Daphne and her gang squealed and ran up to Genevieve, and I sat there dumbstruck. As it was near the end of the day, Gabe and Teagan quickly ushered me out of the building before the heaving sobs could come and brought me straight to our apartment, where I proceeded to get drunker than I ever have been in my life, thanks to a bottle of tequila Gabe had managed to buy from a shady liquor store nearby. I am not a big drinker; I’m not even legal. My parents let me have a glass of wine every now and then, but tonight I didn’t care. I just did shot after shot (which is disgusting, by the way). And now I was paying the price.
“I think she’s done barfing,” Gabe said to Teagan.
“Let’s get her up,” said Teagan.
The next thing I knew they each had an arm around me and were practically carrying me into my bed. Teagan had put towels along the floor and squeezed a trash can into the minuscule space between my bed and the wall. Gabe pulled the cover over me and even kissed me good night.
As I lay there, the room spinning, I couldn’t stop thinking about the afternoon’s turn of events. I wasn’t like Veruca Salt from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but my parents had always said work hard and you will get your rewards. It had proven true. Until now. I worked hard and got into Columbia, my dream school. I worked hard and got to be editor in chief of the school newspaper. I worked hard on my essay and got the Cotton internship for Skirt. And I worked hard and didn’t get the internship in Genevieve’s office. It would be one thing if I had had a real competitor. But Daphne totally got the job just because of who she is or, more importantly, who her father is.
Okay, okay, I know I was warned. Gabe and Teagan told me countless times that Daphne had it in the bag. But I was naive. My problem is that I have too much faith in rules and regulations, you know, a strong sense of justice. I believe in taking turns, I believe in democracy. But that’s not what the world is like, and I really learned that the hard way today.
I still couldn’t get over their flagrant nepotism. “Welcome to the world,” Gabe and Teagan had both said. So I guess this was growing up—learning that if you bust your butt, it’s all for naught. I was pretty discouraged. I was also embarrassed. I had told everyone that I wanted the job. James knew, Richard knew, Alida knew, and Daphne knew. And now they all knew that I had failed. It was mortifying.
Why the hell did Daphne even need the internship? She was guaranteed a job there anyway. She was probably just that type of girl who needed to always get that golden ticket. Veruca Salt. Why couldn’t she realize she didn’t need this position to get where she needed to be? She could have just stepped aside and let me get it. I knew that wasn’t realistic, but I wasn’t feeling rational. My confidence was totally shaken. I just wanted to quit. The more I thought about it, the more that seemed like the right decision. Tomorrow morning I was going to tell Alida and leave. Sorry to disappoint the people at Cotton, but this girl was going Wool.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Alida said, her voice extremely serious.
I had planned to go marching dramatically into her office and hand her a resignation letter, but before I could, she grabbed me and pulled me into the Xerox room.
“I am, too,” I said, preparing to make my speech. Gabe and Teagan had been pleading with me all morning to change my mind, telling me it would be the stupidest thing I would ever do, that I was just being stubborn and defensive, get over it and forget the whole thing, and start having some fun this summer. But I was planning on ignoring their advice.
“Kira, everyone here knows you deserved that internship. I shouldn’t be telling you this, so please don’t repeat it, but we all know why Daphne got it,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s ridiculous, but our hands were tied. Let’s face it: Her dad’s our boss, and what she wants, he wants. It was a huge, huge scandal a few summers back when her stepsister didn’t get it. This time, there was nothing we could do.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but it doesn’t make it better for me,” I said, feeling brave. “I worked really hard and I feel like I was robbed. So I have no choice—” But before I could finish, Alida cut me off.
“I know, and everyone here loooves you. So what I want to say is that even though this sucks, please don’t leave or do anything silly, because we all totally want to recommend you for a job as soon as you graduate from college.”
A job? I blinked a few times, just to see clearly. They loved me? Suddenly, my shoulders collapsed and I felt as if I could breathe. “Really? Wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s true. So please, just stay the course, and keep doing what you’re doing. I’m sure you feel the world is so unfair—and it can be, as you’ve seen—but it’s the last battle that counts, and in the long haul, hard work is rewarded.”
“Thanks, Alida. Thanks so much.”
I was psyched. Okay, so good can come out of bad. Things can happen in a different order. When I exited the Xerox room, Gabe and Teagan were lingering, pretending to fax something so that they could find out what went down. I waited for Alida to be out of earshot before whispering, “It’s all cool.”
“Yay! So you’ll stay?” asked Gabe.
“Totally.”
We group hugged, but when we split apart I spotted Daphne waltzing in with a cup of Starbucks.
“Hey!” she said with a wave, before turning left toward Genevieve’s office.
Although Alida had quelled my desire to bolt, I still felt that tingle of rage inside me.