Chapter 35
ALEX
“Alright, everyone, eyes on me.”
I stand outside the newsroom, my hands trembling as Fiona gathers everyone for the meeting.
I either go in and stand my ground, or I don’t get another chance.
Fiona has the power to help me succeed with what I want to do or rip it all away from me.
Do I like that she has that power? No.
Do I want to embarrass myself to the point of groveling so she’ll take me back on the paper? No.
But I don’t have another choice. I either walk into that newsroom and face the worst, or I lose it all.
I heave out a breath, and before I know it, as if I’ve jumped off a cliff, my feet carry me into the newsroom.
Everyone’s eyes are on me as I walk in, but I ignore them and take my usual seat.
Fiona has her back turned when I enter, handing out feedback on everyone’s pieces from last week. She doesn’t notice me at first, too focused on gathering her papers and deciding what to discuss.
“Alright, I’m starting with Sports. Mason, what do you have?”
Mason stares at me for a moment, giving me a coaxing smile, before turning his attention back to Fiona.
“I’m doing a piece on why football is more popular than soccer or water polo. I want to figure out what it is about football that gets so many people into the stadium.”
Fiona juts out her lip. “Sounds decent enough.”
She doesn’t say anything else, which is high praise coming from Fiona.
Her attention shifts to Anna.
“Your turn, Anna.”
Anna’s face blanches. “Oh, uh, I’m doing a piece on the slam poetry night I went to at the cafe just off campus.”
Fiona squints. “And is there anything interesting you have to say?”
“Slam poetry is interesting on its own,” Anna counters.
Fiona shrugs. “Is it, though?”
“It’s more about highlighting that students interested in written art can go to the cafe to read their own work or listen to other people’s writing.”
Fiona mulls it over. “Tie it back to the school more. If any of the poets were Montgomery students, that’ll make it stronger.”
Anna opens her mouth to say something else, but Fiona has already moved on. Her eyes scan the newsroom, and then they land on me.
She blinks, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
I give her a genuine smile and nod once, acknowledging that she sees me and that I’m willing to listen.
“Fields,” she says, going straight for the jugular.
“Yes?” I ask, not correcting her for the first time or insisting she use my first name.
“What do you have?”
I clear my throat as her laser-focused eyes burn into mine. “I, uh—I wanted to do a piece on injured athletes. What their lives look like after an injury, whether it keeps them out of the game for a while or takes them out permanently.”
She frowns. “Isn’t that more Mason’s expertise?”
I glance at him, but he smiles at me supportively.
I nod. “Possibly, but I focus on student psychology. I want to focus on how injuries emotionally impact athletes. How it changes their daily routines and motivation. How they have to change majors and career paths at the drop of a hat. I think students experiencing burnout or a lack of motivation to study would find it inspiring to see how athletes have found ways to move forward with their lives despite their tribulations.”
Fiona stares at me in silence longer than she does anyone else.
My colleagues look between Fiona and me, then at each other nervously, like they’re waiting for some kind of showdown.
Fiona finally seems to notice the papers everyone is holding—my feedback.
I brace myself for impact, too.
“What are you all holding?” she asks.
“Alex’s feedback,” Mason answers, as if there isn’t a problem.
She focuses back on me, and I wonder if this is the moment that finally makes Fiona kick me out for good.
I’m essentially challenging her by not crawling back into my hole. She doesn’t like it when people come for her job or act like her words aren’t gospel. I’m putting myself on the line by doing this.
She finally breaks eye contact and takes a sip from her thermos.
“Fine. He’s a good editor. Just make sure to take both of our feedback into consideration. But back to you, Alex…”
I wince, waiting for her to rip into my idea.
“It should be a good article. Make sure you find enough injured athletes to interview, and you’ll be good.”
She moves on, her eyes skipping around the room as if this were any other meeting, and I nearly fall out of my chair.
She just accepted me acting like a co-editor.
If she really hated it, she would have thrown me out the second she saw what I did.
As she listens to everyone’s pitches, her eyes find mine every now and then, and she gives me a look of approval I’ve never seen from her before.
She’s not angry or threatened. She’s impressed.
She knows how much I care about this position on The Goldberg, and she knows I’m willing to do everything in my power to keep it.
The meeting ends, and I stay in my chair, watching everyone file out around me.
Mason claps a hand on my shoulder before leaving the office, and I let his confidence in me give me the courage to stay instead of running off like everyone else.
“So you don’t like taking no for an answer,” Fiona says as she packs up her things.
I shake my head. “Not when it comes to things that matter a great deal to me.”
Fiona shrugs. “Could have fooled me.”
I sigh. “But I didn’t fool you. I’m still just as committed and willing to work as I was before. Nothing’s changed. I made a mistake.”
Fiona nods. “Will you make mistakes again, though? What will you do if it happens again? You’ll have to run the show yourself, Fields.”
I take that as my opening.
I pull out the box of lemon squares Vicki gave me last night and place it on Fiona’s desk.
Fiona looks down at it, and I notice something shift in her eyes. She relaxes slightly.
“I know, but now I have a vision for the paper. I want to infuse it with psychology and take a different approach. I want the people I interview to shine through. I want it to be a people-focused paper, just like my articles and pieces are. I don’t want anyone left behind.”
Fiona looks at me. Something dances behind her eyes, and I think it’s realization. She’s realizing that I have ideas. That I can take The Goldberg, under my leadership, from a good newspaper to something even better.
I purse my lips. “Just give me another chance. I swear I won’t mess it up again, and if I do, then that’s on me. I’ll take full responsibility.”
It feels remarkably easy to lay everything on the table for Fiona. Maybe it’s because I have nothing else to lose. This is my only chance to become editor next year. I have to make it work.
Fiona folds her arms across her chest and gives me a hard stare as she chews another bite of lemon square.
If this doesn’t work, I still have Vicki as a date to bribe her with.
I shift on my feet, waiting for her answer. The fact that it’s not an immediate “no” has to mean something.
She sighs. “Fine. One more chance. Don’t make me regret it, Fields.”
I smile, ignoring the fact that she’s calling me by my last name. “Thank you so much. I won’t let you down.”
She finally relents and smiles at me. “I know you won’t. And I’m sorry for being so impulsive. I just—I really care about this paper.”
“I know you do. You were right to be upset with me.”
“I know, but I had to remember that you’re a person. I’ve made my own mistakes too—with my love life, and with a much lighter workload than yours.”
I want to disappear, knowing that Fiona understands how much I have on my plate. I wish I hadn’t told her everything, but maybe if I hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been sympathetic.
“I’m making a change. I am going to change, I swear,” I say.
She nods. “I know you will. But don’t change too much. I like the Alex I already have.”
For some reason, I want to cry.
Suddenly, Fiona feels more like a friend than my boss or superior.
But I don’t let myself cry. I give her a single nod and leave the newsroom with my dignity and my position on the paper still intact.