I smile as both our phones ding with incoming emails.
Students:
We received some incredible news today that I could not refrain from sharing. As I mentioned on our last call, the leadership team has been working intensely to gain access to the athletes in the vicinity that are on the road to the 2016 Olympics. These are men and women from all over the world, who have traveled to work with trainers and coaches, and get a feel for the area. They are contenders for their categories, working hard toward their dreams.
It has been confirmed that we will be allowed to interview and photograph the aspiring competitors during our expo. I am working on the assignments now, but you will each be in groups of four, led by one of our professional leaders. I will not be leading, but instead will be floating around, joining you all at different times.
You all have different talents, and I assure you, I will build teams that carry equal weight in photography, journalism, world knowledge, and social awareness. This trip is quickly becoming the envy of all other summer programs.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to email me directly. I will however tell you, there are no requests for teams. These will be carefully worked through by me.
I look forward to seeing you all in a week.
Sincerely,
Professor Henry Grant
“Oh my God! This is unreal!” Quinn jumps up and dances around as I squeal, kicking my feet in the air.
Nate, Bryce, Dean, and Dave go quiet and stare at us with amusement.
“We have permission to interview the contending Olympians!” I practically scream. Bryce looks at me, stunned, then smiles widely, stalking over to me.
He tugs me off the couch and kisses my forehead lightly; before he can ask, I launch into the email.
“That’s incredible news,” he says when I’m done.
“Girls, what happens with all these photos and stories when you get back to school?” Dave questions us.
“Basically, we had to sign our rights away. Any of the work by the students that gets used, in any type of publications, will guarantee we get name recognition, but the school gets most of the credit, which is fine. In the end, though, IF one of our pieces is picked up for national exposure on the networks our leadership teams represent, we will be named as well. We will get no monetary payments, but we are allowed to use and note it on our resumes, internship applications, and grad school submissions. Also we’ll get recommendations from the national journalists. This is highly unlikely since the real journalistic work starts closer to when the final athletes are named,” I explain.
Quinn never quits dancing in her little circle until she throws herself at Dean. “No matter what the outcome, this type of opportunity basically guarantees a spot in the MFA program,” she sings.
When I lock eyes with Bryce, my breath disappears. His are shining bright with pure pride.
“This is going to be a lifetime experience. I wish I could share it with you.”
“Oh, buddy, don’t you worry. You’ll know every detail of the trip as if you were standing beside me. Did you forget? I’m the photographer?”
“I’m counting on it, babe, because you’re going to blow this out of the water.”
His confidence in me adds to the ever-growing list of things I cherish about him. Another moment to add to memory.
Quinn rolls her eyes when Bryce flashes his military ID and asks for a buddy pass to walk us through the airport to our gate. She’s been lenient on him since we got home from Florida, not busting his ass too much. But I can see that’s about to change.
“You know, Bryce, I think you may want to check and see about what housing assignment they’ve given you in Rhode Island. Pretty sure you’ve turned into a total girl.”
And I was right.
He keeps his mouth shut but narrows his eyes at her. She cracks up and walks ahead of us.
“Are you kidding me? This line is ridiculous.” She turns back to me and transfers her carry-on to Bryce. “I need to use the restroom and can’t wait to get through this madhouse of people. Can you carry my bag, and I’ll meet you at the gate?” Without waiting for an answer, she side steps me and disappears around the corner.
We show our documents to the TSA agent, and I get a glimpse of Bryce’s buddy pass. It is exactly like my ticket. He catches my eye and winks then leads me to the express lane.
“Bryce—”
He places one finger on my lips to quiet me then lowers his head to my ear. “Get through security, and I’ll explain. But you’ve probably figured out by now that I’m not dropping you off at the gate.”