Laura Cassidy - Eighteen Kisses

‘I think I know you…’ he said. ‘You’re friends with Hannah Murray, right?’

‘Yeah…’ I said, still not recalling where we’d met.

‘I’m mates with her brother Mark,’ he explained, and then it began to dawn on me.

‘I thought I knew you all right,’ I said. ‘You look different though.’

‘I cut my hair.’

‘That’s it.’ I knew exactly who he was now. He used to hang out with Hannah’s brother, reading comics and listening to music in their garage. Hannah was always complaining because they rarely let her in there, and when they did they’d make fun of her musical taste, just because she’d never heard of whatever obscure band they were listening to that week. I’d never actually spoken to him or even been introduced, but I remembered he looked a lot different back then – his hair was really long and used to kind of take over his face. I hoped he wasn’t as pretentious as Hannah had described.

‘So, you want to be a music journalist too?’ he said.

I realized I should probably fake an interest in journalism. I wouldn’t tell him that I really wanted to be a singer-songwriter.

‘Yeah, maybe,’ I said. ‘I thought this would be interesting anyway.’

‘But you don’t actually want to work on a music magazine?’ he said, sounding surprised.

‘Well, I’m not sure yet, but music is my life.’

He looked at me like I was crazy.

‘What?’ I asked self-consciously.

‘No offence,’ he said, ‘but you do know that loads of people would kill for this internship? Why did you apply if you don’t really want to work here?’

‘Um… well, isn’t the whole point of transition year to try things you might not normally do?’ I couldn’t believe I was actually quoting Miss Jennings, but how dare he talk to me like that.

‘So how’d you get this?’ he asked. ‘Does your dad work in the music industry or something?’ he added with a grin. He probably didn’t mean it in a bad way, but I couldn’t help but be offended.

‘No, actually, my dad’s dead,’ I said bluntly. ‘Does yours?’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered and looked away awkwardly.

I heard my phone beep in my bag and took it out, hoping it would be Nick. It was Mum, wishing me luck. I texted her back, then we sat in silence. I tried not to let this Dillon guy get to me, but I couldn’t help feeling annoyed. And I wished Nick would text me. I couldn’t believe he still hadn’t apologized. I wasn’t having a good time with boys this week it seemed.

After a few minutes a blonde-haired girl came into the lobby. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m Ellie, assistant to the editor.’

We introduced ourselves and she shook our hands. She was wearing high-waisted shorts, a white T-shirt, dusky pink brogues and a gold necklace that said ELLIE, which was good, because the second she said her name it went out of my head. I could feel Dillon looking at me, but I didn’t make eye contact. I couldn’t believe I’d have to spend two whole weeks with him. He was just as irritating as Hannah described.

‘Follow me,’ said Ellie. We walked behind her into a room with over a dozen desks arranged in rows.

‘This is team Electric !’ she said. ‘Michael, Patricia, Cliona, Paddy…’ Each person waved or said ‘Hi’ to us in turn. They were all incredibly stylish. I looked down at my own purple skinny jeans and Thin Lizzy T-shirt, and wished I’d gone for something a bit more sophisticated.

‘The two of you will share this desk,’ said Ellie, pointing to a table in front of us with one Mac and two chairs.

‘In there is the office of our editor, Tim,’ she added, pointing to a door on the far wall.

‘Beside it is my office, and beside that is the meeting room.’ Dillon and I both nodded. ‘And over there is the archive.’ She motioned to a box room where hundreds of magazines were shelved. ‘We’ll probably get you guys to tidy that up at some stage, although we’ve got lots lined up, so there may not be time. Firstly, I’ll give you a quick overview of what you’ll be doing for the next two weeks.’

Dillon took out a notebook and I rooted in my bag for a notebook that wasn’t there. I was so disorganized. I thought we’d just be photocopying stuff and making cappuccinos – I didn’t think we’d have to do actual proper work. Dillon seemed to notice my panic and tore off a page from his notebook and gave it to me. I took it from him grudgingly and grabbed a pen from the desk to start writing down what Ellie was saying.

‘… Next Wednesday is the Electric Unsigned showcase in Rage Rock Bar and you two will be working on the floor. We’ll need you there at four p.m. till late; it’s tough going, but you’ll get guest passes for your friends in return.’

Dillon’s eyes went wide with excitement.

‘The following Wednesday we’re going on location and you’ll assist on a shoot. It’s a cover shoot so it’ll be a great experience for you both.’

‘Who are you shooting?’ asked Dillon.

‘Willis Middleton.’

‘No way!’ he said.

I couldn’t believe it either. I’d always found Willis Middleton fascinating – an ageing British rock star who lives in New York, but also owns a castle in Galway. He’s known for his awesome bass solos and outrageous behaviour.

‘Yep, it’s his first interview in three years,’ she said. ‘And his first contact with the press since he got out of rehab. He’s known to be a bit… sensitive, so it’s really important that it goes well. Hair and make-up starts at seven a.m.’

‘Have you heard his solo album yet?’ I asked Ellie.

‘He sent us a few tracks,’ she said. ‘They’re awesome.’

Dillon seemed impressed that I knew about his solo venture. Not that I cared.

He resumed scribbling away, his face intense with concentration. This all sounded like a lot of fun, but I didn’t want to get too excited. I had to remember the real reason I was in Dublin. I still had to talk to another seven people and hopefully solve the mystery of Kayla’s disappearance before I went back to Avarna.

‘You’ll be working on lots of different projects,’ said Ellie. ‘So you’ll get a feel for all the different aspects of the magazine.’

Dillon pointed to the gigantic pile of CDs beside our desk.

‘Is that…’

‘The demo pile? Yes. Paul has been away for a few days so it’s building up. That can be your first task, actually, to listen to these. Arrange them into two piles – good and bad, basically. If you need anything I’ll be in my office. Oh, and lunch is at one. Good luck!’

I sat down on the swivel seat nearest to me and Dillon sat on the other one, his leg brushing off mine as he did. Our shared workspace was a bit too cramped for my liking.

‘I’ve always wanted one of these chairs,’ he whispered, spinning round. It was obvious that he was trying to make up for earlier, but I still found him super-annoying. I gave him a forced smile.

‘Isn’t it kind of crazy that they leave this to us?’ he said, looking at the pile of demos. ‘That we get to decide people’s fate?’

‘Yep, choose wisely,’ I said, taking a CD from the top of the pile and putting on my headphones. At least if we were listening to music then I wouldn’t have to talk to him.

After two hours of bad drum beats and too-long guitar solos, however, my head was just about ready to explode. I was so relieved when Ellie opened her office door and waved at me. I took off my headphones. ‘Jacki, can you help me in here?’ she said.

I wondered what she wanted me to do. I didn’t really mind what it was as long as I got a little break from this. Dillon was so engrossed in the CD he was listening to that he didn’t even look up. I walked into Ellie’s office and closed the door behind me.