“I really, really like you,” I say instead.
“I really, really like you too.”
38
“So, what do you think?”
It’s the Friday before spring break. Dr. Lochley finally agreed to go over my portfolio with me; that way I’ll still have a week to work on it before the deadline.
She purses her lips as she taps around on my iPad, looking through my photos and documents, rearranging yeses into nos, maybes into yeses. Even one no into a maybe.
“If you have room,” she says, about a picture of Madison from last year’s production ofThe Bad Seed. “Now let’s look over the layout.”
My portfolio’s not just a collection of photos, it’s a whole website, with links to videos and stuff too. Dr. Lochley nearly stabs my iPad with the point of her pen before she realizes it, clicks it off and uses the soft nubby bit to swipe around.
“Hm.”
Is that a goodhmor a badhm? I can’t tell.
“I think you need to yes-no-maybe all this as well. There’s too much going on, so nothing really stands out. But the bigger problem is, there’s not a whole lot of you in here. Companies and universities and scholarship committees are going to be lookingfor candidates that bring something unique to their organization. You’ve got an Iranian last name, but you don’t mention your disability anywhere.”
“Oh.” Heat creeps up my neck. I don’t think she’s trying to be ableist, but it’s hard not to feel kind of weird about it. How am I supposed to talk about being hard-of-hearing in a portfolio, anyway? Take a picture of my hearing aids?Make a log of all the times Cam called me Jackthon?
Maybe I could add that I’m fluent in ASL or something.
“Another thing that’s missing is—”
Suddenly Cam bursts into the room. I jump, my elbow knocking my iPad against Dr. L’s coffee mug. I save the iPad from getting splashed, but that doesn’t stop the coffee (well, it’s mostly cream) from sloshing onto her plate of tater tots.
“Sorry!”
But Dr. L’s looking up at Cameron. “Good morning?”
“I got in!” Cam holds up his phone. The screen has gone dark, though, and he has to tap around and unlock it again before setting it on Dr. L’s desk right on top of my iPad. “I got into AMDA!”
Their upside-down logo glows on the screen. Dr. L’s face lights up as she stands and grabs Cam’s shoulders.
“That’s terrific!” She picks up his phone, skims it twice, then smiles back up at him. “I’m so excited for you.”
“Me too.” Cam runs a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out for the show, and he seems to think that the slight waves at the end count as texture. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. You’ve earned this.”
Dr. L pulls Cam to the couch and starts telling him about AMDA, and New York, and all the experiences he’s going to have,and I lose the thread immediately. Cam spares me an absent nod hello as he listens.
And I just sit in my seat, forgotten. Dismissed.
Again.
This wave of anger crashes against me. At Cam, for always interrupting. And at Dr. Lochley, for always letting him. Always picking him over me.
I can’t stand it. I stuff my iPad into my backpack, and despite my heavy stomps, neither of them seems to notice me leave.
I feel like I’m going to explode. I’m so tired of Dr. L giving up on me the minute Cam enters her orbit. Liam’s right. It’s not okay.
DR. LOCHLEY'S BREAKUP LIST:
ONLY PAYS ATTENTION TO ME WHEN SHE NEEDS SOMETHING
