This can’t be real except it’s way too detailed for a dream, so…maybe it is? An internship with Katharine Breakspeare would be…perfect. Beyond perfect. Way better than anything with the firm I’d hoped to intern at because actually I’m not interested in corporate law anymore, and I’m not interested in grinding my father’s firm into the dirt, but I am interested in getting an up-close-and-personal look at the legal superstardom that is Katharine Breakspeare—
Who is still waiting for an answer, Celine. Pull yourself together! “Wow,” I breathe inanely. My heart is fizzing like champagne. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I would love that. I’m absolutely interested in other avenues. I’ve decided I’m definitely open to other fields and I so admire your work and an internship would be—” An honor seems too feudal and my liege-y, so I swallow my excited babble and say simply, “Yes, please.”
Katharine laughs and pats me on the shoulder. I may never bathe again. “All right. I’ll be in touch. Enjoy the party!” Then she drifts off into the crowd, her steps perfectly in time with the piano music coming from the corner of the room. My heartbeat, however, is not in time with anything, except maybe the speed of sound.
“Ohhhh my God,” I breathe.
“RIGHT?” says the curtain, and I almost scream until Brad steps out from behind the fabric.
“Bradley!” I splutter. “What the bloody hell are you doing in the curtains?”
He wrinkles his nose and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was looking for you out of the window. Then I heard Katharine talking and realized no one could see me and it’s like, what do you do? Step out and give Katharine Breakspeare a heart attack?”
“But you don’t mind giving me a heart attack,” I snort, hand still pressed tight to my chest.
“Well, you’re not nearly as important to the culture. Toughen up, Bangura.” But he winks and steps closer. His hand finds mine—not the one on my chest, that would be a bit scandalous, but the other one—and I can feel him fiddling with the button on my glove. “Anyway, I was hoping you’d be happy to see me.”
I am. I love you. Is now a weird time to remind him? I don’t know how to do this stuff like a normal person. “Um,” I manage.
He laughs and it’s reprehensibly gorgeous. Brad is extra handsome tonight, his hair freshly twisted and kissing the tips of his eyelashes, his skin glowing against the deep purple of his three-piece suit. “I’ll just infer from the available evidence,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking the bare skin of my wrist.
“You look lovely,” I offer. “Even for you, I mean.”
“And you,” he says, his eyes soft, “look like Katharine Breakspeare’s intern.”
A grin spreads across my face. I temporarily forget all about Brad’s hotness because I am Katharine Breakspeare’s intern. “I do, don’t I?”
“Yep.” His grin matches mine. “It suits you. I knew you’d—”
A muffled tap tap tap sounds through the room and the music subtly quiets. I turn to the stage and curse Katharine Breakspeare’s name for the first time in my life, because she’s up there with a microphone interrupting my moment. “I think it’s time we honored our Explorers,” she announces, “don’t you?”
Right, yes. I suppose that is technically why we’re here.
BRAD
I hold Celine’s hand all the way to the stage until we’re separated by the tyranny of the alphabet. She heads toward the front of the line to stand next to Aurora, who looks adorable in a pink dress that matches her permanent blush. At least I’m next to Sophie, who is wearing lavender of all things (really did not have her down as a pastel girl, but she looks good).
“Hey, Romeo,” she mutters as everyone’s called, one by one, to the stage. “You and Celine married yet or what?”
“Pending,” I murmur back.
Katharine calls up the kid in front of me.
“Are you gonna propose when we go to McDonald’s later?” Sophie asks.
“If you’ll take a picture of us kissing under the golden arches.”
“Deal.”
Katharine calls my name. After she hands me my fancy, rolled-up Explorers certificate, Celine catches my eye and beams.
I love you.
Eventually, all nine of us are standing up there, being honored or whatever, and it’s time to name the Golden Explorers. I’ve already accepted I won’t be one of them, which doesn’t matter because (1) it was nice of the BEP to include me at all, since I missed most of the final expedition, and (2) when I look out at the crowd, I see my parents watching me with a pride so fierce even the most panicked and pessimistic corner of my brain can’t ignore it or explain it away. Mum and Dad know what I want for my future now, and they know that, no matter what they think, I’m going to get it. But the way they look at me is still the same.
The first Golden Explorer is Vanessa, which surprises no one. The literal golden compass Katharine hands out is palm-sized and beautifully ornate, and Vanessa holds it in the air like an Olympic medal. Obviously, I’m not jealous. A scholarship would be nice, but I can do without it. I can live with roommates. I’m in a very healthy place and I’m excellent at setting boundaries.
The second Golden Explorer is a quiet, hardworking guy named Nick, who is so shocked he almost walks right off the edge of the stage. I clap for him like I did for Vanessa.
Maybe I could get a job so I can afford to live alone? I’m certainly not about to ask my parents for help, not when they have to put money toward my sister studying abroad and—
Katharine announces the third winner, Bradley Graeme, and I pause in my thoughts to clap again. No one steps forward, though. Laughter ripples through the room, and Sophie smacks me on the shoulder. “Brad.”
I blink. “Yeah?”
“What’s your name, genius?”
What—
I look over at Celine and she is laughing so hard, a hand over her mouth, her eyes bright and happy and…I think proud? I look into the crowd at my parents, sitting beside Neneh and Giselle, and they’re all beaming and waving their hands at me as if to say Go. Then I look at Katharine, who is waiting at the podium with an amused smile and one last golden compass. She leans into the mic and says, “That’s you, Brad.”
Jesus H. Christ. I won a Golden Compass. I won a scholarship. I all but run over to the podium. “What? Thank you, but…I didn’t finish the expedition! Surely I shouldn’t…”
Katharine says into the mic, “Bradley is now explaining to me why he should not receive this award.”
Celine cups her hands around her mouth and calls, “Brad. Be quiet.”
Everyone laughs some more.
“It’s true that, due to an unfortunate accident,” Katharine says to the crowd, “Brad could not finish his final expedition. However, our team decided to average out all the data we had for his performance as a Breakspeare Explorer, and the results were undeniable. Brad scored a 4.9 on our matrix.”
I. Did? WHY? HOW?
Actually, never mind. I’ll take it.
Katharine’s still talking. “His performance was consistently high. Therefore, we made an executive decision to honor the work he was able to do, rather than count him out based on what he couldn’t complete.” She hands me the compass. It’s heavy and slightly warm and mine. “You are a Golden Explorer, Bradley. Congratulations.”
“…Thank you!” I manage. The next few minutes are a daze. Some closing remarks are made before Katharine instructs us all to party and we’re allowed off the stage.
I stumble down the steps and head straight for Celine who hugs me—carefully, thanks to my ribs, but it still counts—in public, without a second’s hesitation. Like she’s just overflowing with the need to touch me. The cocoa-butter scent of her skin fills my lungs as I murmur into her neck, “I love you.”
She pulls back, shock and pleasure merging in her expression. “Brad!” But she’s grinning like she can’t help herself.
“What? You started it with all the hugging!”
“People can hear us!”
“So whisper,” I tease. Of course, I don’t really expect her to announce her feelings in public like this—
But she does. “Fine. I love you, too, obviously.” And then—even though we have seconds before our parents rush over to crowd us, even though our friends are already swarming with congratulations—she grabs the back of my neck and kisses me. Hard. My heart grows wings and flies away.
Me and Celine, we’ve been best friends. We’ve been enemies. We’ve even been a secret.
But right now?
We’re everything. Anything. Whatever we want.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Obsessive-compulsive disorder runs in my family, so I wasn’t surprised when it finally kicked down the door of my brain, waltzed right in, and made itself at home. Upon receiving my diagnosis, I tutted a bit, panicked a bit, made several emergency cups of tea, and finally decided I’d better stick the whole thing in a book.