“Sorry, babe, not this time. I’m only there to work. But maybe next time.”
Five steps in. To my left, photocopiers murmured and beeped, and ahead the chief was bent over the sports reporter’s desk, tapping Nick’s fingers away to type into the laptop.
“An intro something like this . . .”
Ten steps in. Hannah was frowning as she grumbled into the telephone, doodling on a loose piece of notepad.
Twelve steps in. Someone cut in front of me. His Mohawkcasually lifted before he returned to studying the stack of oldScribemagazines he carried.
Fourteen steps in. I was one step away from the board. A few people stood checking it in front of me, and I tapped my foot, unable to hold back the impatience. I glanced back to Hannah and raised a hand. She nodded and then turned into the phone once more. The doors at the back opened. I pivoted. Jill was coming in, fumbling with the flap on his satchel. He let it go with a frustrated slap and stepped toward his corner desk—
And froze. His body seemed to tighten as if he’d been magically turned into a statue. I followed his gaze to Jack’s hand climbing up Copper Girl’s arm to her cheek.
Jill snapped into action, twisting away from the sight, and left the office.
Jack scowled as he stared over Copper Girl’s shoulder at the fogged doors. There was definitely something going on between the two of them, and my initial thoughts were: lover’s quarrel. Then I adjusted them to: unrequited love.
Maybe that was the reason Jill didn’t want to speak up about that night. Maybe he didn’t want it known that he was interested in his best friend. Perhaps The Night Warrior had seen him try something on Jack and when Jack retreated, leaving Jill humiliated, The Night Warrior had his victim just the way he wanted him. Vulnerable. Easy lunch.
Jill would hate anything that made him appear weak or outcast to his peers. It would affect his having a “life.”
Finally the board was free. I nudged my glasses upward and read the list from the bottom up. The heaviness affected my finger too, increasing with every inch I had to lift.
I stole higher and higher, my stomach twisting again, a panicked flare gurgling out of me when I reached the last few places.
My name. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t . ..
“That can’t be right,” I said, scanning through the list again. I must have overlooked it—
Nothing?
I blinked at the paper over and over as if somehow my name would suddenly appear. I scratched the back of my neck, my glasses popping forward with my frown. I rubbed a knuckle against my brow, and slowly picked my way to the chief. Hannah sent me a sympathetic smile as I passed. How long had she already known?
The tight lump in my throat hurt to swallow, but I swallowed nevertheless before moving into the chief’s office.
He wasn’t in there, but I’d seen him talking to the sports reporter. He’d be here soon. The chair dug into me and the seat was still cool after ten minutes of sitting on it. I fumbled with the pen in my pocket, but it was a lazy, irresolute touching. I couldn’t even summon the energy to click.
The air stirred as I waited for the chief to round the desk.
He did, slowly. “Liam,” he said as if he’d been expecting me to pop in. “How are you doing?”
He sank into his chair and stroked his beard, gaze leveled to mine.
“There must have been some mistake,” I heard myself saying. “My articles should have placed.”
“It’s a blow, I understand. But you did well with one of your three submissions.”
“Twenty-eighth? It’s a good ranking forthatpiece, but—”
“Thatpiece, Liam, is good, and it is what your peers want to read. I’m sorry you didn’t do as well as you wanted to, but that is the nature of competition. From what I’ve seen developing in your party page columns, I’m very sure you’ll do even better next year. Look at this as a learning curve, not a curve ball.”
I let go of my pen, withdrawing my hand from my pocket, and stood. The chief had certainly made his point. Perhaps I shouldbe thanking him for submitting the story that placed at all, but I couldn’t. Every swallow was bitter and painful.
Chief Benedict sighed and smiled, soft and empathizing. “Look, Liam, It might not seem like it now, I’m just trying to help nurture your potential.”
My glasses kept sliding down my nose, and I pushed them up again as I stood. “I’ll still wow you with my feature article, chief.”
Crazy Mocha Coffee.Two o’clock, and half full. I sat at our usual table and lethargically leafed through a Booster Gold I’d had carefully tucked in the back pocket of my bag.
