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On Monday, Ramona calls Claudia to ask if they can meet at a local ice cream parlor instead of the library. “You had me at ice cream,” Claudia says.
As they eat spoonfuls of mint chocolate and black raspberry chip, Ramona explains the change in venue. “I won.”
Claudia smiles, uncomprehending.
“The Word Beneath Your Wings contest. Round trip tickets to anywhere? I won!”
Eyes wide, Claudia begins to squeal. “Seriously? Oh my god, that’s fantastic!” They jump up and hug, swaying from side to side in their excitement.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Ramona continues as they sit back down. “Your comments for my piece were spot-on. I made all the changes you recommended, and look how well that turned out!”
Claudia chuckles. “I’m glad to have helped. But remember, no amount of polish can turn quartz into a diamond.”
Ramona blushes.
Rather than critique the stories they brought, the girls spend the rest of their meeting celebrating Ramona’s victory and arguing about where she should go with her grand prize tickets. “Cambodia.” “Norway!” “Russia?” “Hawai’i.” “Miiiii-ami.” “New Yawk City.” “Hey, what happened to Djibouti?”
They’re still laughing when they part ways, but that night, alone in her study, Claudia sighs. She’s happy for Ramona, really. But this is exactly what she’d been afraid of when she decided to tell Ramona about the contest: losing a great opportunity, and wondering if she would have won had Ramona not been competing too.
No, you can’t think of it like that, she reminds herself. There’s always going to be stiff competition. Wouldn’t you rather lose to your friend, someone you respect and care about, than to a complete stranger who might be an undeserving jerk?
She nods. Feeling a better, she turns on her computer. “When one door closes, you’ve got to open a few more,” is her motto. So every time a story comes back with a rejection, Claudia finds another contest or magazine and sends the story right out again.
As she scrolls through the listings on her favorite writing website, Claudia notices something funny. Ramona’s name is listed in three separate places under the Contest Congratulations column. Three different wins, all within the past month, none mentioned to Claudia.
Somebody has been keeping secrets.
# # #
In May, MJ and her fellow graduate students get a two-week break before beginning their third and final term. A few return to their respective home countries to visit family, but most want to travel someplace fun within Europe, taking advantage of the perfect weather and their convenient location.
Theresa and her friends want to see Spain, and she invites Felix to join. Felix in turn invites MJ. MJ’s roommate is going to Amsterdam with their mutual friends, but MJ has no interest in weed or absinthe. Instead, she decides to go to Paris with a group of older students from the lab, but when Dr. Storm asks to tag along, she politely bows out.
“Spain it is,” she tells a giddy Felix. Theresa looks decidedly less excited.
But as they embark on their 10-day, 4-city tour, all anxiety and awkwardness is forgotten. They smile and snap pictures in Seville, they play on the beaches of Barcelona, and they marvel at the beautiful architecture in Valencia. Everything is awesome.
From Valencia they travel by night train to Madrid. Each room holds 2 bunks. They have 4 rooms and 9 people, which means someone doesn’t speak Spanish as well as they thought.
“Can we just buy another bed now?” MJ asks. As the last to join the group, by default she’s the one without a bunk.
Theresa shakes her head. “Train’s full.”
“You could take a bus instead,” someone offers. “They meet at the same station.”
“No way!” Felix and MJ reply in unison.
Theresa glances at them, then says quietly, “MJ and I can share.”
Normally MJ would protest a little bit, out of politeness, but when she thinks about the alternative, she decides not to risk it. “Thank you!” She grabs a surprised Theresa into a hug.
The group splits up to settle into their cabins. Felix, Theresa, and MJ crowd into theirs. As Felix peeks out the window, Theresa notices the complimentary toiletries are missing.
“I have my own,” MJ says.
“Me too,” Felix says.
“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll go find a set for myself then.” Reluctantly, Theresa leaves.
The train begins to move, and Felix stays at the window, transfixed by the view. MJ relaxes with a book on the bottom bunk. After a few minutes, Felix sits next to her.
“This trip has been great,” he says.
She smiles. “It’s not over yet. We’ve still got Madrid.”
He nods. “I’m really glad you came.”
“Me too.” She puts the book down. “I have to admit, I was nervous at first. I didn’t want things to be weird. But I think it’s going pretty well, this bunk mishap aside.”
Felix nods again.
For a few moments they just look at each other, with the beautiful Spanish countryside rushing past their window. Then, when the quiet becomes overwhelming, MJ reaches for her book. At the same time, Felix reaches for her hand.
Suddenly they’re kissing. MJ doesn’t know how it happened, who moved in and who didn’t move back. But her lips part to accept his and they connect, hearing nothing but their own frantic breathing and the jostling of the train down the tracks.
Then the door swings open. MJ and Felix separate immediately, but it’s too late. Theresa is standing in the doorway, one hand holding a bag of toiletries, the other clasped over her gaping mouth.
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