Page 22 of Escape Velocity
It’s like an atrophied muscle that has been strained for years and he’s going back to the gym again.
He just hopes that whatever he turns in isn’t going to be actually published in the paper. Mason figures that if no one is good, then they have nothing to publish, so they must have another story or someone on the paper to do the beat for them.
If it gets published, Mason will make it his mission to keep it away from Callum at all costs. If he can’t, he’ll just say that he did what he had to do to make the paper.
He’ll repeat it to everyone until he’s red in the face.
Mason stands beside the office and breathes deeply a few times.
He was the chief editor of the Northwood High paper. He’s a physics major who has much more going for him than one measly article.
He lifts his head up, squares his shoulders, and puts on a winning smile.
Having to see the chief editor again and herintimidating glare is already making him nervous. He can’t let her get to him again.
He walks into the office and searches for her desk. This time, she isn’t clacking away at her keyboard. She’s talking with another colleague, laughing and giggling like she’s a human being and not a sharp-toothed barracuda.
Mason clears his throat. The girls both stop laughing and the editor turns around in her swivel chair, her face serious.
“I have the article for the first football game of the season,” Mason says and holds out the paper. He looks down at the label on her desk that he somehow forgot to do in his fear-wrought haze of talking to her last time.
Fiona, Chief Editor
She beckons the paper with her hand, like she’s trying to grab at thin air, and he hands it to her. She rips it out of his hands. She brings it up to her face, adjusting her large glasses, and starts scanning it.
He shifts uncomfortably on his feet, looking out the window to give himself something to do.
He watches as a couple caramel-colored leaves fall to the ground into a small pattering of leaves gathering around an oak just outside.
He glances back at her, just to see how she’s progressed so far, and he witnesses a slow, wicked smile morph on her face. It’s unsettling to Mason. He expected her to be someone who is incapable of smiling or experiencing happiness.
“This isexactlywhat we’re looking for,” she says, taking his paper and handing it over to her colleague.
Her friend starts reading it too and glances quickly at Mason then back to Fiona. She gives a single nod and hands it back to her.
“We’ll let you know soon,” Fiona says, placing the paper primly on her desk.
Mason pauses, unsure how being “exactly what they’re looking for” constitutes a “we’ll get back to you,” but he doesn’t question it.
She flourishes her hands to him like she’s shooing him off before she goes back to chatting with her colleague.
He almost feels offended, but he thanks the girls and leaves the office, his chest feeling twenty pounds lighter. For some reason, he expected Fiona to read one sentence and throw his paper in the garbage or to laugh in his face.
Maybe his parents have a point. Maybe he is meant to do journalism after all.
Even if his heart isn’t in it, maybe he can learn to use it to his advantage.
Soon enough, Mason gets an email from Fiona, saying he got the spot on the paper and that his article is going to be published in the next issue.
He’s officially in, and he isn’t quite sure how he feels about it, but he knows he has to tell Jenna.
He grabs his backpack, thrusts his laptop inside, and runs out the door.
He knows Jenna is in her biomechanics class but he marches over to the Lawson Biology building either way. It’s made of glass and has a white and marble-like interior, like most science buildings tend to have.
He stands outside one of the auditoriums, fiddling with his phone, re-reading the email to make sure it’s real.
He’s happy to get any and all academic validation. He’s used to chasing after the highs of success and prestige, butwhat does it mean to have the spot on the paper? What does he have to try for next? What will make his parents even happier?
