Billings has been our home for the past eight years. We’re a family—a better family than the one I got at birth. Inez and I love how small the campus is. The way we run into students while walking from meeting to meeting, and how they’re always happy to see us even though they know we’re going to bug them about following through on whatever we’re working on.
Our supervisors are solid and believe in us. They pay us well—for higher ed, at least—and support our growth and professional development. The campus is beautiful and right in the middle of the city. It’s perfect, or will be if we can work things out with the professors. And I’m on my way to improving that, one faculty member at a time.
Most importantly, we agreed we would fight this thing together. That we’d stand by each other’s sides. And now she’s leaving? Without talking to me, or even mentioning that she’s considering it? I feel completely blindsided. Abandoned.
“I know,” she says placatingly. “And I really do believe that. But if this initiative passes, my job won’t be the job I love anymore. And I’m tired. I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“So you’ve decided?”
She shakes her head. “No, I just want to explore the option.”
I turn my head away, blinking my tears away. They blur the painting of the Tuscan countryside hanging on the wall, the greens and yellows and reds swirling together like a Van Gogh painting. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
We’ve been each other’s sounding boards for every step in our careers. She helped me decide I didn’t want the job at the large public university I interned with, and I helped her prepare for the presentation that was required as part of the Billings interview process. How didn’t I know she is considering leaving?
She shrugs, a sad smile on her face. “I don’t like conflict.”
I’m flooded with guilt as I realize she didn’t tell me because she didn’t think shecouldtell me, and my reaction to the news is proving her right. She’s a grown woman, capable of making her own choices without consulting her friend. I’m not being abandoned, even if the buzzing in my veins says otherwise.
A broken little sob escapes me. “Of course I’ll support you. I want you to be happy.”
She steps forward, taking one of my hands between both of hers. “I know. But I knew you’d be disappointed, too, and I don’t want to disappoint you. You’re my best friend.”
“You’ve never once disappointed me.” I sniff, pasting on a smile and infusing as much excitement as I can into my tone. “What’s the job?”
“Director of Health, Safety, and Security,” she says, rolling her lips together as her eyes shine.
“Well, fuck, Inez,” I say, tears springing back up in my eyes, both because I’m happy for her and because I know I’m losing her. How can Billings compete with a job that’s literally all about crisis management?
Inez nods, her own eyes filling with tears, and I pull her in for a hug. We stand in the middle of the tiny living room, clutching each other and crying.
“You’re going to be so fucking good at that job.”
“I haven’t gotten the offer yet. Dr. Lascano set up a special Saturday interview because she knew I couldn’t get away, but I still have to get it.”
“There’s no way they’ll meet you and not pick you.”
“But I haven’t decided, even if they do,” she says. “I don’t want to leave Billings, but I don’t know if I can keep going.”
There’s still a chance. I saw a ray of hope at the Galleria Borghese with Sydney, a little hint of what our campuscouldbe like if we find a way to work together. It would be supportive and collaborative, all the things Inez and I always wanted. She won’t leave if we can finally make that a reality.
I kiss her cheek as I pull away. “They definitely won’t offer if you don’t fix your makeup.”
She wipes under her eyes, laughing. “Oh gosh, is it bad?”
I run my thumb under her eye to swipe off some of the mascara that flaked off. “Nothing a little touch-up won’t fix.”
She nods, a little hiccup escaping her. “I love you, Quinn.”
I swallow thickly, fighting down another round of tears. “Love you, too.”
We fix our makeup side by side in the little bungalow bathroom, giving each other one more hug before running to our respective cars. I watch her pull away, turning in the opposite direction from where we’re heading. Already pulling away from me.
Colton’s in the back seat when I slip in.
“You okay?”he asks quietly.
“Fine,”I say, pasting on a smile.
