Page 84 of Breaking News

“Oh, smart,” Meghan said. “I should’ve thought of that.”

“I wonder if that kid ever tells his uncle how mean you guys are to him,” Chase mused, shaking his head. “Poor kid.”

“He can tell his uncle whatever he wants,” Xander said, tugging his black hood up over his head. “Noah Sherman doesn’t intimidate me.”

My heart dropped to my stomach and my eyes shot past Xander’s face to Graham, whose mouth was slightly agape. He’d heard it, too, and I could tell he was just as clueless as I was about the kid’s connections.

Noah Sherman could destroy us if he wanted. At the very least, he wasn’t above extortion. He knew our coverage of his campaign could affect public opinion, and his backroom deals with Silas proved he wasn’t above using his power to get what he wanted.

I slouched lower in my seat as Meghan and Xander talked across me. They went on about him admitting this was his very first flight, and Meghan teased him about visiting the cockpit for a set of wings like he was a little kid. I heard her laughter, and I even faked a chuckle myself, but I wasn’t really listening to the conversation. My mind was so far from here.

The plane jolted as it pulled away from the gate, and I sank deeper into my seat, wrapping my arms tight around my body like I could physically hold myself together.

Graham didn’t say a word. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as the plane took off, knowing exactly what was on his mind. He stared out the window, his jaw tight as he squeezed the armrest.

Unlike Xander, who tightened the strings of his hoodie so his eyes were completely covered, Graham wasn’t worried about the flight.

He was probably regretting whatever reckless, selfish part of himself led him to getting involved with me in the first place. Because if this got out, it wouldn’t just embarrass him. It would wreck his career.

Xander let out a sigh beside me, pulling his hood back to peek out the plane window. He looked for a total of three seconds before hunching forward, tugging his hood down over his eyes again. I only caught bits and pieces of what he muttered; something about this “metal tube in the sky” and “not natural.” It was all followed by a loud and clear, “I hate this.”

Me too, I thought, catching Graham’s eye over Xander’s back. He slowly shook his head, and I knew that had nothing to dowith the person on the verge of a panic attack between us, and everything to do with the predicament we’d have to face when we got back to Woodvale.

“We’re fine,” I told them both.

By the time the five of us piled into a taxi van outside the airport, the sun was high in the East Coast sky. It was still morning, technically, but it felt like a full day had passed since we’d pulled out of the parking lot back at the station.

Despite the turmoil in my head, the Manhattan skyline still managed to take my breath away. The last time I was in NYC, I was seventeen, and I’d spent the majority of my senior trip obsessing over a boy instead of opening my eyes and appreciating the city around me.

You’re about to do it again, Jill, I told myself, lifting my chin as I listened to Graham talk to the driver in the front seat. “It’s a little town about an hour south of Indianapolis,” he was explaining, gripping the handle above his head like he didn’t quite trust the cab’s lurching movements. I smiled down at my lap as the cab entered the Queens-Midtown Tunnel.

I didn’t want to lose him. I couldn’t.

“I don’t think we’re in Woodvale anymore,” Meghan said in a dreamy voice when we emerged from the tunnel a couple minutes later. Out of the five of us, only Graham and I had been to New York before, and it showed. The other three were craning their necks to take it all in.

“I think that’s where they filmed the final battle scene in theAvengers,” Chase remarked, leaning forward in the backseat to get a better look down 42nd Street.

“Of course you would fuckin’ know that,” Xander muttered, trying to seem as unimpressed as possible, as if he wasn’t staring up at the skyscrapers all bright-eyed like the other two. The man had lived in Chicago for a few years, but New York was… well, it was New York.

The chaos inside the hotel hit us the second we stepped through the revolving doors—the lobby was packed with conference attendees. All of us were forced to check our bags with the concierge because the rooms weren’t ready yet. There wasn’t a chance to slow down. As soon as we all handed our luggage over, we crossed through a set of glass doors into the conference center attached to the hotel. We signed in at a long table in front of a wall of arched windows overlooking the city, where a pair of frazzled volunteers handed out lanyards and swag bags.

Meghan and I managed to duck into a bathroom to freshen our lipstick and deodorant. After spending the morning in an airplane and a taxi, it was the best we could do.

As we stood shoulder-to-shoulder under the fluorescent lights, I sighed as I watched her pull a little plastic canister of mints from her purse.

“Graham and I got caught,” I finally said aloud.

Meghan froze, holding a mint between her fingers an inch from her lips. “Caught?” She lowered her hand. “By who?”

“Your intern.”

Meghan’s eyes widened with terror. “Isaiah? Oh my God.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” I said, turning around to lean on my hands against the bathroom counter. There was a woman down at the other end washing her hands, but I didn’t care if she overheard. “I don’t expect him to keep it a secret.”

She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, popped the mint in her mouth, and fiddled with her lanyard. “Isaiah could tell Xander. Fuck, he could tell hisuncle. You know, his uncle is—”

“Noah Sherman. I heard,” I said, crossing my arms. I pulled some of my hair away from my eyes. “What does Isaiah like? Video games? Fireball Whisky? Maybe I could bribe him.” I forced a laugh to show I wasn't serious, but even joking aboutusing alcohol to bribe a teenage boy to keep his mouth shut felt wrong. “What the fuck’s the matter with me?”

---