Shrink

1

Some days like this, I dreamed of a bigger home, better than my seedy apartment complex, a better lifestyle than takeout most nights and crappy cooking others. And of a more confident personality.

Especially facing the most intimidating and renowned woman in her field, well, anywhere. Temperance Brennan, a rare combination of beautiful and brainy, (but sadly, as I'd begun to realize, very tactless), sat to my left, the heads of the Jeffersonian Institute board at the opposite ends of the conference table.

"I don't see the need of a replacement intern to fill in for Mister Bray while he is treated, especially one so uncredited as Ms. Antoine," protested Doctor Brennan, gesturing at my resume.

With a wave of his hand, a bureaucratic-looking head cut her off, leaving her to sit stewing, waiting for her next opening.

"Am I pronouncing this correctly? Papillon?" asked the blonde woman, another one of the heads. (She pronounced the tail end of my unfortunate name with as many l's as one can possibly fit into a sentence).

How was I supposed to correct her politely? As tactless as she was, Doctor Brennan at least had the confidence to be as blunt as she was.

I was about to open my mouth to confirm her mispronunciation, when once again, Doctor Brennan cut in.

"It's Papillon," she corrected professionally, folding her hands over my folder. "it's French for butterfly."

"I'm aware, Doctor Brennan," sighed the older woman.

"Clearly not," said the doctor smugly.

Ignoring that last comment, the meeting continued.

"Walk us through your university education, Ms. Antoine."

In a shaky voice, I began to tell about my years at McGill, then my undergraduate year at Concordia.

The table was silent, mulling this over. Finally, the head man that had initially cut off Doctor Brennan spoke.

"Would you mind repeating that last school?"

I sighed inwardly. One of my faults was always my quiet voice.

"Concordia," said Doctor Brennan crisply. "it is a small school, economically closed off. During my time in Montreal, I observed that most of the students there attended simply for the close proximity."

I swallowed, ducking my head. It was true, I berated myself, for my stupid patriotic pride. Small income, small school.

Suddenly, a cell phone went off. Doctor Brennan immediately fished it out of her pocket and answered.

"Brennan..Mhm..Okay, send me the address..What? Oh, no, this meeting is quite fruitless. Okay, bye."

"Fr-fruitless?" I breathed, tugging at the already threadbare sleeves of my coat.

Doctor Brennan left the room brusquely, not acknowledging me or any of the other members of the meeting.

"Well," exhaled the blonde woman. consider yourself on the Jeffersonian team."

My head snapped up, my voice high with confusion. "What? Why?"

"Well, you seem very devoted to your field. I believe you're the right fit. Also, just to piss the good Doctor off."

"W-well, it's settled then," I forced a smile on my face, feeling the blood rushing down to my toes. "When do I start?"

"As we've all heard, a new case has rolled in, so would Tuesday be too early? You can visit the Jeffersonian over the weekend to acclimate yourself to it, as well as pick up your clearance card."

"Got it," I answered robotically, staring at my clenched hands, at the small, silvery half-moon scars in the palms.

"Okidoke," crowed the balding man. "meeting adjourned."

"Okidoke."

"What was I thinking?" I sighed, heaving my bag onto my small twin bed.

The rumpled covers seemed to suck my rucksack in, and I so desperately wished to join it in the nonexistence of consumption by bedding.

Doctor Brennan was going to blame me for taking her beloved intern's job, and I'd be sacked, publicly shamed by the top dog of my field, and then some. How was I supposed to go on in life with that kind of rejection? This was so worse than dealing with a small town boy crush.

As I was beginning to formulate my exile to Albania and my new life as a baker, a thought popped into the messy winds of my mind.

What if I just played Invisible Girl?

I decided on this strategy, to be quiet, seen and not heard, so as to invoke as few complaints as possible, as I closed my eyes.