Subject:Issue One Theme—Please Vote
Thursday, September 12 | 5:18 AM
From:Parker
To:All
Look.
That’s none of your business.
Subject:Issue One Theme—Please Vote
Thursday, September 12 | 5:32 AM
From:Mal
To:All
To theMixxedMediastaff:
With the majority vote, Option 3: Carving Our Space will be the theme of issue one.
Emerson and I would like to publish by the first of the month. As that’s a tight turnaround, yes, please send in pitches or stories as soon as possible.
Please reserve e-mail chains for zine business.
Best,
Mal
CHAPTEREIGHTHONK IF YOU’RE A LOSER
“Hey, space cadet, wait up!”
Maddie called after Mal, saying quick good-byes to her soccer friends and half jogging up the sidewalk to catch up with them. “What are you in such a hurry for?”
“What? Oh.”
Mal hadn’t realized theywerein a hurry. They had just been walking—and mentally running through the zine To-Do List they’d outlined in their planner earlier. But now that they drew their attention back to their actual surroundings, they realized they had been absolutely booking it out of Holmes High this Friday afternoon.
“Sorry,” they said, a beat later than they probably should have.
“It’s cool,” Maddie said, catching up with ease. “It’s actually a little chilly today, so a brisk walk sounds nice.”
It was, to be fair, a very nice day for a walk. It had stayed cool the entire day, with a crisp wind that promised colder weather to come. Fiery red and golden-orange leaves had started to fall, though some hadn’t fully changed yet, as if they were just giving up after a long summer. But golden or green,Mal’s secondhand Doc Martens crunched over them all. They pulled their hands into the sleeves of their sweatshirt—which, for the first time, they wore not aspirationally but because they actually needed it against the bite of the breeze.
The siblings walked home together, little tornadoes of bracken and brown leaves picking up around them.
“I bet you’re just excited for the scrimmage,” Maddie said, keeping up the pace now. The soccer season hadn’t officially started, but Holmes was playing a scrimmage against Newport that evening.
“Ohshit,” Mal hissed.
“What?” Maddie asked.
“I have a zine thing tonight.”
“A zine thing?” Maddie’s face fell—Mal caught it in their periphery. It matched the fall of her voice, pitching down with disappointment. But then she pulled her expression back up, fast enough that anyone but Mal might not have even noticed. “Look at you go, Mal.” She gave Mal a playful shove of their shoulder. “Getting thingsdone. This is what, the third meeting this week?”
