Becky Wallace - Far From Normal

BECKY WALLACE

F AR

FROM

N ORMAL

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FOR G AVIN , L AYNIE , A UDREY ,
AND A DY .

Ive made up hundreds of fake people, but you four are my greatest creations. Love you always.

I LOVE C HICAGO . I TS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE PLACE IN THE worldexcept in the summer when its full of tourists. You cant go anywhere without running into one of those annoying, slow-walking, selfie-taking fanny-pack wearers. And for the last several summers, Ive been one of them. Minus the fanny-pack wearing part because even though theyre on trend, my grandma doesnt leave the house without hers, and I love Grammy, but refuse to dress like her.

As I stand outside 900 North Michigan Avenue, head tilted back to take in the beautiful gray stone building with its four castle-like towers, I realize that even without the typical attire, I probably still look like a tourist.

Not today, Chicago. Not today.

I tug down the hem of the little black dress I misappropriated from my aunts closet, make sure no one saw me gawking, and stride into the buildings side entrance with all the purpose I can muster. Thats where the employees who work in the buildings upper levels check in. The security machine issues a happy little beep as I scan my first real work badge and head to the elevators with a slew of other professionals, young and otherwise.

My wedge heels skid as they hit the metal grating just inside the elevator, but I recover fast. No one says anything to me, which is exactly what I want because that means Im blending in. I dont look like a seventeen-year-old whos interning with her aunt for the summer.

By the time I reach the twenty-seventh floor, its just me and my reflection. Even wavy and oddly tinted in the elevator door, I like what I see. With my hair down and Aunt Emmas dress on, I look like I belong in Chicago.

A new Maddie. A better Maddie. A Maddie no one expects to fail.

The doors open onto a reception area painted the perfect shade of orange. Its not too bright or too brown, an impeccable backdrop for the giant, stylized V that fills the space like artwork. Velocity Marketing has a cool vibe to match its reputation.

I bet Aunt Emma chose the design for the office. Shes got the best aestheticand the reputation to match. I never would have put a lavender couch and a faux-fur rug into a Lincoln Park penthouse apartment, but shes got vision.

Lets hope it extends to me too.

Putting on my most confident smile, I approach the desk. Hi! You must be Patty. Ive heard great things about you. Im Maddie McPherson, the new intern.

Pattys super thick, painted-on eyebrows rise. Oh yes. She nods a few times, eyes raking over me, before continuing. Ive heard all about you too. Ill call William to take you back to training.

What could she have possibly heard? I mean, I had to apply for this internship just like anyone else. Emma surely put in a good word for me, but something about Pattys tone makes the yogurt I ate for breakfast sour in my stomach.

Great, I say, trying to sound more enthusiastic than nervous. Some kids at my high school wear these plastic WWJD bracelets, but right now, Im wondering less about what Jesus would do and more what Emma might. I clear my throat and try to engage Patty in conversation: Is that your dog? I ask, pointing to the framed photo at the end of her desk.

Umm-hmm. She ignores my effort and her bright pink fingernails continue clicking across the keyboard.

Hes really cute. I mean, Im assuming hes a he. The spiked collar sorta made me think

William is on his way, she says without looking up from her screen.

Oh Okay. Ill just stop talking now. I have a bad habit of babbling when Im nervous. Emma offered to bring me into the office today and introduce me to everyone, but I didnt think that would give a great first impression. Im here to prove that I can stand on my own, that I can be successful without having to be babysat by my super-busy, super-talented aunt.

Thank you, Patty, I say, pretending shes busy and not plain rude.

A door behind Pattys desk swings open, startling me. Its cleverly hidden so you cant see the seams unless youre looking, and the V breaks in half to move with it. Its almost something out of a spy movie. And when a good-looking, dark-haired guy with a stubbly chin and a black button-down shirt walks out, I wonder if Im about to be inducted into MI6 or the NSA or whatever. The fact that his pants have a silvery sheen, though, kills the whole fantasy for me. Theyd look okay onstage or at a ballroom dance competition, but for the office? Nope.

He holds out his hand. Hi. Im William. You must be Coffee.

What? No, I say with a half laugh. Im Maddie.

Patty snorts.

William gives my hand a solid shake before turning back without any explanation or direction. I hesitate for a heartbeat then follow him before the secret door slams shut.

No top-secret weapons or retina scanners wait for me on the other side. Two banks of cubicles flank a narrow walkway. Polite voices float over the textured half-walls, buzzing with more noise than you would have guessed from the reception area.

All of the other interns have already had their training, so youll have to jump in with both feet, William says as he strides toward one of the offices that line the buildings outer wallno view of the lake from this side. We have a hierarchy of assignments. Im sure your aunt gave you the breakdown of how this all works.

Im not sure exactly what all hes talking about, but if he means that I will do a ton of grunt work in return for a sparkling letter of recommendation and a tiny stipend at the end of the summer, then sure. I guess I know how it works.

I wish for the millionth time that my mom would have let me skip the last few days of school so I could have started on Monday like everyone else. But since she wasnt super supportive of me spending the summer in Chicago, I had to make some concessions.

A girl leans out of the cubicle closest to Williams office, eyes wide behind glasses with enormous frames.

He points to her. For the first couple of days, youll shadow Intern. Then, if we discover something youre good at, well find an assignment for you. He turns to face me once he crosses the threshold of his office, blocking me from following. And now, I need coffee. Two sugars and a dash of hazelnut creamer.

And then he shuts his door in my face.

I stand there staring at the brown wood, mouth half-open. What the actual hell?

Im pretty sure I didnt say that out loud, but the girl with the huge glasses answers me like I had.

They burn through a lot of interns around here. He doesnt bother learning anyones names until theyve stuck around for more than a few weeks. Shes wearing one of those chunky cardigans that looks like it was hand-knitted and has her blond hair piled in a messy bun right on top of her head. Shes pretty in that effortlessly nerdy way. Hes actually a good guy once you get to know him.

Doubtful. Okay I hesitate, shifting my weight from one wedge to the other.