Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“Please,” she says with an elegant wave of her hand. “Call me Everly. We’re going to become a family here over the next while. I prefer a first-name basis.”
“Sydney,” I say, jerking an awkward thumb toward myself. “But you already knew that.”
“I know everything about you, Ms. Denik,” she says. “I’m the one who reviewed your application and approved you.” Her gaze flicks over me for a moment, as if really seeing me for the first time, and her expression softens. “I’m really glad you’re here, Sydney. You’re quite a special girl.”
I feel my cheeks go pink. I’ve never been one to handle any kind of sentimentality or compliments, and from the look on her face, it appears to be a mixture of both.
“I’m also glad to be here,” I tell her. More than she knows. Especially when there’s a chance this will all be taken from me at any moment.
I applied to the Madrona Foundation in January as part of my Senior Synthesis Capstone Project. The foundation regularly has internships for students during the summer months, so I decided to shoot my shot, even though I know that admittance is extremely competitive.
To my surprise, I was accepted. I knew my grades were good enough, I knew that the project I did last year with dark fungi had gotten a lot of attention in mycology circles, but honestly, anytime something goes well for me, I’m surprised, if not wary. Life has a way of conditioning you, and when you’ve gone to the school of hard knocks, you expect those knocks each time.
Once the shock wore off, I was more relieved than anything, especially since I would receive a stipend which would go a long way for me since room and board is included. In addition, I would help the researchers here in their quest to use fungi in neurological advancements. They’d already made promising strides in Alzheimer’s treatment with a local, and previously unknown, fungus found on their grounds, and because Alzheimer’s is so dear to my heart, I knew I could maybe make a difference here, if not produce something amazing for my capstone.
But then the knocks came, as they always do.
I fucked up.
I fucked up bigtime and made a huge mistake.
Self-sabotage has always been the name of my game.
And so, the day before yesterday, I received a phone call that I’d been dreading but knew was coming.
I’d lost my scholarship to Stanford.
Which meant I’m now unable to finish my senior year because I’m broke as fuck, and there’s no way I can afford tuition.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass me by. I never got a chance to ask the administrator if that meant my internship at Madrona was called off, so I decided to chance it. And when I got my email from the airline yesterday, telling me to check in to my flight to Vancouver, I turned in my key to student housing, put the remainder of my belongings in my friend Chelsea’s garage, and this morning picked up my bags and got on that flight.
Once I landed in Vancouver, I hurried to the seaplane terminal downtown, hoping and praying that I’d be allowed on board for the final journey to Madrona. The pilot asked if I was Sydney Denik, and then I got on that plane with the two staff members and Amani.
Somehow, by the skin of my teeth, I’m here.
I just don’t know how long I have until someone figures it out. So far, neither David, Everly, nor the receptionist seem to think anything is off. Everyone has been treating me like I belong here. Maybe the department won’t reach out to the foundation; maybe they’ll be so glad to be rid of me that they’ll purposely forget. Maybe because they already gave me my stipend in a lump sum, they can’t recall it.
Or maybe the reason that David left the room so quickly is because he got a call from Stanford just now, and it’s a matter of minutes before I have to face the humiliation of getting back on that seaplane.
The thought of it is like a fist over my lungs. True terror. Having a dream come true, getting just a taste of it, before having it all ripped away.
I’ve needed this win so badly.
Everly clears her throat, bringing my attention back to her, and nods at the map in my hands. “I know David has been called off somewhere, something to do with the solar farm. I’d be happy to take you on a tour. Did you want a chance to settle and put your things away first or—?”
“No,” I say quickly, sliding the map into the front pocket of my jeans. “I can do that later.” If I’ve got the head of the foundation offering to show me around, I’m not going to pass that up. David was fine, if not a little strange, but Dr. Everly Johnstone is an icon.