"I can help with that," you say.
"No need," Darcy quickly says. "I've got it." She's not about to share any of the credit.
"I did do my fellowship work on feral patterns, some of which were decayed." You need Dr. Ellison to favor you over Darcy. You say, "I don't feel like your summoning background is a good fit for this task."
"Bomomsay Clestenrogo's got a point," Wilcox says.
Anger creeps into Darcy's voice. "He really doesn't. Feral patterns aren't the same as what Fletcher's dealing with."
Dr. Ellison taps her fountain pen on the table. "No, it makes sense for Dr. . to tackle this particular task. And since both of you are already involved in preparing the symposium, it's not as if you have more time than he does."
"Sure, okay," Darcy says. She grips her notebook so hard that her knuckles turn white.
"Very well." Dr. Ellison notes Darcy's name on her task list.
Hope This Wasn't a Mistake
The next item on Dr. Ellison's agenda is curriculum. She's pitching a cross-disciplinary class with a material sciences professor and a crafts design professor. She, Eze, and Wilcox have a deep discussion about how to structure the class so that the department can investigate the pattern properties of new materials without the other two professors knowing what's going on. The class has been in the works for months, as has the curriculum discussion, so it's hard to follow and even harder to pretend to pay attention. You end up studying a water-stained ceiling tile to find shapes in the stain's contours. You're pretty sure Darcy's working on a sudoku puzzle in her notebook.
Finally the three of them finish their discussion. Dr. Ellison looks through her papers and then makes a "tch" noise. "I have been woefully unprepared all day. I left my notes on the next agenda item in my office." She stands. "I'll be back in a moment."
As soon as Dr. Ellison is out of the room, Wilcox turns to you. "First faculty job, right?"
You nod.
Wilcox returns your nod. He glances down at a pattern card in his hand.
Your arms wrench themselves together as if they're magnetized. Your ankles click together painfully.
That is Very Not Cool