Thirty Happens by Elizabeth Butts

didn’t bother teaching you in the four years he’s had you in his class. As a matter of fact, I’m going to call him once this meeting is over and give him a piece of my mind as to how much his teaching is lacking these days.”
    I raised an eyebrow in question. The two of them had this unique banter of insults that traded back and forth, often using me as their own personal messenger pigeon. I was shocked at first, considering these two were supposed to be old friends, but I guess this was just how their friendship worked. Must be a guy thing. Maybe an old guy thing. Like, the older you get, the grouchier you become or something.
    Jenkins mentioning my beloved professor made me sad for a moment, remembering the look in his eyes when I walked into class this morning. It started with surprise, then sadness, then determination. I hated seeing him look so sad. He was normally a boisterous type of guy, and this morning he was quiet and subdued.
    “I think Stat has done a perfectly fine job teaching me. He must have because you sure are utilizing the crap out of my impeccable editing skills.”
    Okay, so that was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration of my abilities as an editor. More than once I had been called in to be questioned about how I let some small grammatical errors slip by. Such as the misuse of a semicolon. That resulted in a fifteen minute lecture on how semicolons were supposed to be used. Lucky me that I got the mentor who minored in English. To this day I don’t know why I got the lecture, and not the person who wrote the article. Needless to say, I now refused to even consider using a semicolon. I avoided them like the plague for fear that I would get it wrong and have to listen to another fourth grade grammar lesson.
    Jenkins grunted at my generous assessment of my editing skills. I just shot him a warning glance, kind of a ‘go ahead, make my day’ type of look. I’d been perfecting that look for the last couple of months, trying to get it just right so that I could watch politicians or criminals as they withered in their shoes as I interviewed them in my future as a hard-hitting journalist.
    “So, what’s this big thing that Stat was so remiss in not teaching me?”
    He leaned forward, motioning for me to lean in as well like he was about to tell me a huge secret that no one else was supposed to know. It may be stupid, but my heart started beating a little harder. Not because I was turned on, you nasty freak, but because I thought I might just be getting a scoop on this career that would give me an edge over the thousands of others who would want to fight me to the top.
    “You’re supposed to report the news, not become the news.”
    It took a moment for his words to sink in, but once they did, I burst out laughing. I loved the fact that we were able to joke about this. Some people would think ‘too soon’, but for me, this was perfect timing, and all too necessary.
    “I’ll try to keep that in mind next time.”
    “Shit, you’re planning on there being a next time? Would you mind giving me a heads up in advance of this ‘next time’? My poor elderly heart couldn’t take another phone call like the one I got yesterday morning.”
    Huh. I guess he cared just a little.
    “Sure thing, boss. I’ll make note of it.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Wiseass.”
    I grinned at him to let him know I appreciated it, you know, the humor.
    “So, Jay, your school year is coming to an end, which means your internship with us will also be ending.”
    I frowned. This was not something I was prepared to deal with yet. I thought that I would have had plenty of time to come up with something to plead my case as to why I should stay on as an actual, legitimate employee.
    “I’m so not prepared for this conversation right now, Jenks.”
    He smirked at me.
    “Come on Karyn Jensen, aspiring Pulitzer Prize award winning journalist. What is the one thing I keep telling you and telling you that you have to remember to stay on