Chapter 1
“While Jane returns your exams, I have an announcement.” Dr. Barton gave his teaching assistant a stack of Blue Books to hand back to the class. “As soon as I find that note to myself. Let’s see...”
It was my last class on the last day of spring semester. I was twenty-three. After this I only needed six more units to complete my master’s degree, and if I didn’t find a real job soon I’d have no choice but to go on for a PhD.
I wasn’t hooked on school. I was hooked on student loans.
For six years, they’d allowed me to support my niece and keep her out of foster care. It was no hardship. I love learning. But keeping Stacey safe was the main thing. She deserved it, after what she’d been through. I tried not to think about how much I owed. But what was I thinking, majoring in humanities? That was for people with trust funds. People who didn’t need jobs.
My best friend Lisa pointed at the time on my cell phone. A quarter after two. My stomach clenched. I’d let her talk me into throwing an end-of-semester party, and tonight was suddenly coming at me like a speeding train.
The usual excuses—being broke and living with a minor—didn’t work this time. Lisa offered to pay for the food and the keg, and Stacey was out of town on her high school graduation trip. I was starting to freeze up inside just thinking about it. I don’t mix well with crowds and loud noises.
“Here it is.” Dr. Barton pulled a rumpled piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. The lines of middle age had invaded his face, but he was one of those men who’d be good-looking all their lives. “We’ve added two internships to the summer session. It starts a week from Monday. Three weeks in residence at the dig, hands-on study of the Maidu culture, and six units. Easy A.”
Six units. Just what I needed. For a split second I wondered if there were student loans for a summer internship. Yeah.
My name is Nora Deven, and I’m a loanaholic .
Jane Marks, the TA, handed me and Lisa our exams. With satisfaction, I noted my A and slipped the Blue Book into my backpack. That was the one upside to not having a job—time to study.
As Lisa and I got up to leave, Dr. Barton stopped us. “Ms. Deven, Ms. Newberry,” he said. “Before you go, you two may be interested to know that yours are the next two names on the internship list. Congratulations.” He pulled four manila envelopes out of his briefcase and set them on the desk.
“Good job, you guys.” Brad Morgan was sitting on Lisa’s other side. He’d had a crush on her since last semester. He was one of the interns already selected. “It will be great to see some friendly faces up there.”
“Can’t do it,” she said. “I can’t take the time off work.”
Brad’s face fell. For two minutes, the poor guy must have anticipated being with Lisa for three weeks with no Frank in the picture, her boyfriend since high school.
“Thank you, Dr. Barton,” I said. “It’s great, but I have to find a summer job.”
I’d just found out my old standby at the mall toy store was a no-go. When I stopped by recently to ask about a summer schedule, my supervisor was gone and the new one said they weren’t hiring people back for the summer.
“There’s good news on that front,” Dr. Barton said. “This year interns will be paid a stipend. The dig sponsor has generously funded the spots to the tune of $6,000.”
I couldn’t believe I heard him right.
“Excuse me, Dr. Barton,” Cindy Slater said from the front of the room. “Is that to share or for each of us?” Cindy was the other student who’d already been given an internship.
“That’s each.” Dr. Barton raised an eyebrow at me. “Very generous, I’d say.”
He took four manila envelopes out of his brief case and put them on the desk. Heading for the door he said, “Have a safe summer everyone. You interns can pick up your packets there on the desk. Let me know by Monday if you’re in or
“While Jane returns your exams, I have an announcement.” Dr. Barton gave his teaching assistant a stack of Blue Books to hand back to the class. “As soon as I find that note to myself. Let’s see...”
It was my last class on the last day of spring semester. I was twenty-three. After this I only needed six more units to complete my master’s degree, and if I didn’t find a real job soon I’d have no choice but to go on for a PhD.
I wasn’t hooked on school. I was hooked on student loans.
For six years, they’d allowed me to support my niece and keep her out of foster care. It was no hardship. I love learning. But keeping Stacey safe was the main thing. She deserved it, after what she’d been through. I tried not to think about how much I owed. But what was I thinking, majoring in humanities? That was for people with trust funds. People who didn’t need jobs.
My best friend Lisa pointed at the time on my cell phone. A quarter after two. My stomach clenched. I’d let her talk me into throwing an end-of-semester party, and tonight was suddenly coming at me like a speeding train.
The usual excuses—being broke and living with a minor—didn’t work this time. Lisa offered to pay for the food and the keg, and Stacey was out of town on her high school graduation trip. I was starting to freeze up inside just thinking about it. I don’t mix well with crowds and loud noises.
“Here it is.” Dr. Barton pulled a rumpled piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. The lines of middle age had invaded his face, but he was one of those men who’d be good-looking all their lives. “We’ve added two internships to the summer session. It starts a week from Monday. Three weeks in residence at the dig, hands-on study of the Maidu culture, and six units. Easy A.”
Six units. Just what I needed. For a split second I wondered if there were student loans for a summer internship. Yeah.
My name is Nora Deven, and I’m a loanaholic .
Jane Marks, the TA, handed me and Lisa our exams. With satisfaction, I noted my A and slipped the Blue Book into my backpack. That was the one upside to not having a job—time to study.
As Lisa and I got up to leave, Dr. Barton stopped us. “Ms. Deven, Ms. Newberry,” he said. “Before you go, you two may be interested to know that yours are the next two names on the internship list. Congratulations.” He pulled four manila envelopes out of his briefcase and set them on the desk.
“Good job, you guys.” Brad Morgan was sitting on Lisa’s other side. He’d had a crush on her since last semester. He was one of the interns already selected. “It will be great to see some friendly faces up there.”
“Can’t do it,” she said. “I can’t take the time off work.”
Brad’s face fell. For two minutes, the poor guy must have anticipated being with Lisa for three weeks with no Frank in the picture, her boyfriend since high school.
“Thank you, Dr. Barton,” I said. “It’s great, but I have to find a summer job.”
I’d just found out my old standby at the mall toy store was a no-go. When I stopped by recently to ask about a summer schedule, my supervisor was gone and the new one said they weren’t hiring people back for the summer.
“There’s good news on that front,” Dr. Barton said. “This year interns will be paid a stipend. The dig sponsor has generously funded the spots to the tune of $6,000.”
I couldn’t believe I heard him right.
“Excuse me, Dr. Barton,” Cindy Slater said from the front of the room. “Is that to share or for each of us?” Cindy was the other student who’d already been given an internship.
“That’s each.” Dr. Barton raised an eyebrow at me. “Very generous, I’d say.”
He took four manila envelopes out of his brief case and put them on the desk. Heading for the door he said, “Have a safe summer everyone. You interns can pick up your packets there on the desk. Let me know by Monday if you’re in or
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