Photographs of Graves

I kicked myself for a long time after that for not telling Graves about Oliver. I also very intentionally didn't ask him to put a label on things: I really didn't want one and I didn't think he did either. Words like “mine” and “only” and “us” and “we” were chains that I had learned chained me down and scared me shitless. I wasn't incapable of commitment: On the contrary, I was too capable. I was trying to issue some restraint. In my experience relationships got overcomplicated and messy and, as far as I'd been concerned, were doomed to fall apart. That's how it had to be: Unless you decided to be a polygamist, only one person could fit with one other person. All others were destined to end in failure as we pursued that one person that fit.

I didn't want to doom what we had, whatever it was. I didn't want to one day hate Graves. I respected him too much.

“Murphy, you are thinking too hard on something,” Ana asked, concerned. We shared a bedroom with two beds across the room from each other and she was watching me from hers. She had changed into a pair of black shorts and a tank top, showing off a great deal of her tattoos. A vine of blossoming roses and wildflowers spiraled up her side and a dragon made of cool hues curled around her right hip. Stars and butterflies wound up her arm, flying up in vibrant colors to her neck. I had seen earlier that the majority of her back was taken up by wings that were a mix of an angel's and a monarch butterflies'. On her neck was a sparrow.

“Did the things with the attractive man not go too well?” she asked. I sighed, contemplating what to say.

“I feel like I should have said something to him that I didn't,” I confided. “Something about a boy that I was with over the past school year.”

“Did he have a disease?” Ana gasped. I shook my head.

“No, nothing like that.” I looked at the ceiling. “Nothing like that at all.”

~~

Marion was a very lenient mentor. That is to say, about anything involving Graves she didn't pry or set boundaries. She spoke to us as if we were young, but equals in the sense that we could take care of ourselves. She demanded our respect: As long as we gave her that we were fine.

She had us at work by nine-thirty, half an hour before our jobs actually started. We would be shadowing her. I subconsciously glanced around for Graves, but I was too immersed in the work in front of me to really let those feelings for him bubble to the surface: As much as I was attached to worldly things like people, writing was my true passion. When Marion sat me down with an article, a sound bite, and a template, I immediately took out my computer and was swallowed whole by the article. It was a paper on female rights in Iran and the justification of arranged marriages based on the conversations of a few interviewed women, a journalist who was a veteran reporter in Iran, and an Iranian state figurehead. Ana was given the same topic, just with different soundbites. Our task? To collaborate and make a top notch paper on the subject by one o'clock.

I knew instantly why I'd been selected to be with Ana. She was absolutely brilliant, could remember things she heard word for word, only had trouble putting them down into an article or imbedding a phrase. She was also extremely passionate, so much so that she needed a filter for her thoughts as she put them down. That's where I came in: I came in as filter and polisher, putting the writing in an easy, free-flowing style that came to me so naturally. Ana could just whisper quotes in my ear as I needed to imbed them, making going back to each sound bite unnecessary.

“Brilliant,” I whispered.

From the smug look on Marian's face I could tell that was an accurate statement. I picked up quickly that their was a silent competition between staff members on whose interns could outperform the others; and, of the interns, we seemed to be doing quite well in the race.

I knew I would have been smoked without Ana. Sure, I could write fast and write well, but I couldn't grasp every single little thing about a person's view in one go. We complemented each other well. Even so, we were sweating bullets as we tried to get our article out and to Marion before one o'clock.

When we came sprinting to her with less than ten minutes to go before due time she looked positively triumphant. I thought she was going to yell “this is Sparta” or high five us or something. Honestly. Instead she just smiled at us, said “good work”, and quickly walked into a back office which we knew belonged to Elisabeth Martin. Ana and I got close enough to hear Mrs. Martin say “second” to Marion.

Someone had beat us.

“They will not be doing that again, I think,” Ana said quietly. I turned to look at her and she was giving me a wickedly determined little smile on that pretty mouth of hers. She had taken out both of her snake bites and instead coated her mouth with pale pink lip gloss that glittered in the office lights. Aside from that, though, all her other piercings were still in. I smiled back at her.

“No, I don't think so,” replied.

~~

All of us were highly competitive. To be here we had to be: There were only fifteen or so of us that were here to be journalists out of the hundreds of students that had been looked at. And putting a bunch of highly competitive, highly alternative writers in a foreign country with an internship and a race was like getting a bunch of dogs bread to fight and putting them in a ring after making each of them snort crack. That was the kind of feeling I had, anyway, as we all went to take our lunch break.

There was a back room of Morrow & Sons that was dedicated to tables and chairs for staff. We all occupied this, although some of us were sitting on the floor or leaning against walls due to a lack of chairs. In one corner Mikael and Cosette had already found a corner, which Ana and I meandered to. I, of course, picked up a cup of coffee on the way, along with a turkey sandwich. I leaned against the wall; Ana leaned against me. Mikael snorted.

“Well aren't you two a cute couple,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“It is sad, but I do not think Murphy enjoys sex with women,” Ana pouted. “No, Murphy?” I could have hugged her. She was so cute with her very blunt English.

“Not at present,” I laughed. Ana gave a bright smile.

“I hope you do not give me the false hope,” she said, winking, before getting a finger sandwich. Something about her reminded me of Zoe, just far less profane and more angelic seeming. I smiled.

“Hey, no one will blame you, if I were a bird I'd swing for her any day,” Mikael said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders companionably and gesturing at Ana. I laughed as he continued to watch her leave. “Is she really a lesbian?”

“Sorry Mikael, she's really a lesbian,” I chuckled, giving him a return arm around the waist. He rocked us back and forth, swaying us to an invisible tune. I laughed again as Ana returned, looking confused.

“What is happening? I hear no music,” she pouted. She turned to Cosette. “What is happening here? Does he get my woman? I do not want him to have my woman.”

“No, I don't believe he has your woman, Ana,” Cosette assured in her thickly accented english. Ana maintained her pout as she took another bite of a finger sandwich. Mikael gave me a large hug, playing with Ana.

“I'm sorry, I definitely stole your girl,” he laughed, smiling impishly. He was so tall that his arms wrapped around my head rather than my shoulders. I made a gagging noise under his tight grip.

“Excuse me, Mikael? Who's girl did you steal?” a calm voice asked behind us.

“Oh hey Graves, I stole Ana's. I took Murphy here,” Mikael rubbed my head fiercely. I looked up into the eyes of Graves, blue with eyebrows raised into his eyes.

“Oh really? I wouldn't do that,” Graves advised with an arch look. Mikael looked confused, but after a moment took some sort of cue and backed off, clearing his throat a little. Ana smiled brightly at Graves, walking over to me and slipping her hand in mine. She swung our arms in a wide arc.

“Thank you, Mr. Graves. I believe that Murphy is my girl,” Ana teased. It was just so great because she was fully aware of the kind of... thing that was going on between Graves and I. I was beginning to love this girl's personality more and more. Graves just smiled, giving Ana a challenging look. She was not swayed.

“Of course, Ms. Korozov,” Graves said lightly. He looked up at me. “Oh, but just remember, Ms. Murphy, we have a meeting today at the little shop down the street today after work. Don't be late.”

Graves winked and sauntered off before I'd even gotten in my “okay”. I exchanged a look with Ana. We just smiled, a small triumph between two girls.