JOLIE
So, last night was an emotional roller coaster. I went from the high of epic orgasms to the low of being told they’ll never happen with Ben again, to the fun of a Scrabble game, then back down to the depression of saying goodbye to him.
I wanted to hug him one last time, but that’s awkward to do in a car, and since I let him drop me back at Buckley Hall, I couldn’t really lean over the console and embrace him the way I wanted to.
I barely slept a wink last night, and I’m feeling a little worse for wear.
It’s almost like dealing with a breakup, even though it’s really not.
I mean, I’ve never really had a breakup, so I don’t know what they feel like, but this isn’t great.
I woke up all sad and heavy, really having to force my butt out of bed.
Nylah seemed to be in a good mood, and I didn’t want to bring her down with my morose energy, so I left early and skipped breakfast.
The rest of the day, I’ve just been kind of wafting around campus, going from one class to the next without soaking anything in.
Honestly, I’m acting like a zombie, which is ridiculous.
I should be on cloud nine. I’ve now had two orgasms, really amazing ones, and I should be able to do that for myself now.
Even though I’d much rather have Ben do it, I need to ignore this ache in my chest and just get on with my life.
Tutoring sessions are over.
He made that clear in a really sweet way.
We can be friends, but the benefits part? That’s done.
And he made it abundantly clear that sex is off the table too, so I’ll just… Argh, I don’t want to accept that part.
I mean, I know I shouldn’t be having sex, but I really like what Ben and I did together in that hotel room, and I want more. I don’t care what I’ve been taught to believe. With the right person, I think sex could be a good, wonderful thing—married or not.
And I think Ben is the right person to test that theory with.
But how do I convince him of that?
With a sigh, I rub my forehead and head toward the Nolan U Star office. I don’t know why I’m going there, really. It’s not like I have a staff meeting or anything, but what else am I supposed to do with the rest of my day?
Classes are over, because I finish early on Thursdays. I should probably go to the library and start my big assignment, or maybe I should head back to my dorm, but—
My scattered thoughts come to a complete halt when I round the corner of the building and nearly collide with a girl who is pressed against the wall, mopping tears off her face.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” I touch this stranger’s shoulder and she doesn’t even flinch, whimpering into her hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I’m just…” She sniffs, shaking her head, opening up her crumpled tissue so she can blow her nose again.
I start looking in my bag for the little packet of Kleenex I usually keep on me.
“Here.” I pass them to her as soon as I have them in my hand.
“Thank you,” she blubbers, wrestling to pull one free.
I have to help her in the end, flicking out the white tissue to make it easier for her. She takes it and blows her nose, then scrubs another tear off her cheek.
Standing beside her, I wait it out, hoping she doesn’t mind my presence. Some people like to be alone when they cry. Maybe I should ask her what she wants to—
“It was a bad date.”
“Oh.”
“I thought he—” Her expression crumples, and she ends up squeaking, “I thought he cared about me.”
“Aw.” I rub her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Guys can be jerks.”
“Yeah,” she squeaks again, darting her eyes at me and looking almost… scared for a second.
I tip my head, concern wrinkling my expression. “Is there more to this? Are you… okay?”
She sniffs, shaking her head but quickly pulling herself together. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. I don’t even know you, so I don’t know why I’m spilling my guts.”
“You can tell me anything, you know? I’m a very private person. It would be completely off the record.”
“Off the record?” Her expression bunches even more. “Are you a reporter or something?”
“Well, no.” But my lips kind of twitch, and I can’t help smiling. “I mean, I did just have an article published in the—”
She tuts and spins away from me. “Forget it.” Darting around the side of the building, she disappears and misses my feeble call back.
“Wait. I… I won’t tell anybody. I’m barely a reporter.” I sigh and shake my head, suddenly remembering how gross I felt after my date with Kieran.
I hope she didn’t have an awful experience like that.
Poor thing.
Maybe I should chase after her, but… she didn’t want to talk to me. Hopefully she has a friend she can run to.
Gnawing on my lip, I head into the building, arriving at the office just in time to hear an internal door slam and see Angelica storming out of Kieran’s office.
I move to the edge of the room, trying to blend into the wall as she heads to her desk, looking enraged. I dart my eyes to Heather, who’s working at another desk, and she just shakes her head at me, bulging her eyes and warning me to stay quiet.
Okay. So this has obviously happened before.
Snatching her laptop, Angelica shoves it into her bag, muttering something under her breath before spinning and noticing me.
Her nostrils flare and she forces a completely unbelievable smile before gritting out, “I’m fine.”
Rushing past me, she storms out of the office. This must be the day of “I’m fine” women.
I look at Heather again, but she’s hunched back over her laptop, so obviously trying to be invisible.
Yikes. Maybe I should just go.
Turning back toward the exit, I’m about to make my move when I hear Kieran’s voice behind me. “Jolie. You’re here.”
I spin back and pull my lips into a tight smile when I spot him staring at me. “I’m here.”
“Good. Come.” He flicks his hand and I try to catch Heather’s eye again, but she just curls her shoulders a little more, and I have to walk into Kieran’s office feeling completely alone.
I make sure to leave the door open as he ambles around to the other side of his desk like he wasn’t just having…
whatever that was with Angelica. Plunking into his seat, he threads his fingers together and smiles at me.
“I feel like it’s time we really start to shake things up around here.
Not as many people are reading the Nolan U Star as they used to, and we need to write things that people actually want to read. ”
“Okay.” I squirm in my shoes, having no idea where he’s going with this.
“I only get one year to be editor-in-chief, and I want to make an impact while I’m in this position, so we’re going to spice up this paper with some juicy news.
” He grins. “I just heard that a certain coach is having secret hookups with a certain professor’s wife.
I think it will really ignite interest and grow our readership, so I want someone to write an article exposing them. ”
I blanch, hoping on all things holy that he’s not expecting me to do that.
“Angelica thinks it’s a bad idea.” He rolls his eyes. “She wants a paper filled with fluff pieces and feel-good shit that will make people happy all the time.”
He grits his teeth, shaking his head and looking darker than I’ve ever seen him before. I squirm some more, curling my toes and glancing over my shoulder at that gap in the door. How fast can I run through it?
“But we need articles that will get people reading!” He thumps the desk.
“And I wouldn’t mind shining an honest spotlight on the damn coaches at this school.
The athletics department needs to be brought down a peg.
All we ever do is build them up, build them up, build them up.
But isn’t it also our responsibility to show them for what they really are? ”
I nearly ask, “And what’s that?” But I bite my lips together because I seriously don’t want to get sucked into this conversation. And I definitely don’t want to question why he published my article if he’s trying to bring the sports teams down a peg or two.
Seriously. What is his problem?
Looking up at me, he hits me with a laser glare that has me frozen on the spot. Reaching for one of the drawers in his desk, he softly says, “You agree with me, right, Jolie?”
My heart starts racing, my throat suddenly swelling to the point I can’t even talk.
“Uh-huh?” I word it like a question, because I really shouldn’t be saying anything, but I’m kind of just a little bit scared right now and—
Please don’t ask me to write it. Please don’t ask me to write it!
His posture relaxes, a smile growing on his face as he bobs his head.
“Good. I’m glad I have you on my side. I’m going to pitch it at the next team meeting, and Angelica will oppose, but if I can get a few of you to agree with me, then we can finally get a decent article out there to stir up some controversy and make this paper what it should be. ”
Keeping my tight smile in place is an effort, but I force my lips to comply because I want to get out of here.
I feel bad for kind of siding with Kieran when I actually side with Angelica.
I don’t want to be part of a school paper that’s constantly pissing people off.
I don’t mind shining a light on a real problem, but as far as I’m aware, our athletics department does great things for our school, and I don’t want to pull anyone down.
I especially don’t want to expose some coach.
That kind of thing could tarnish an entire team, not to mention the heartbreak it will cause for the poor professor whose wife is cheating on him. If that’s even true.
Oh man, Kieran is so not the guy I thought he was.
I can’t believe I actually went on a date with him.
I still want to get more writing opportunities, but not articles like that. I want to write something uplifting, not explosive.
“I’d like you to start looking into it for me, so when I pitch the idea at the next meeting, I can have a little evidence to present, really help sell it, you know?”
I swallow. “I’m not sure I’m the right—”
“What? You don’t think you can do it?” He reaches for his desk drawer again, and now my heart is in my throat, thudding loudly and making me dizzy. “Or are you telling me you don’t want to do it? Because you gave me the impression that this paper was really important to you.”
“It is.”
“You told me that being a journalist is a dream of yours.”
“It is.” My words are turning into soft squeaks.
“Good. So start looking into this for me, then.” He grabs a sticky note and starts scribbling down two names. “It’s Coach Stanzinksy—one of the track coaches—and apparently he’s fucking Mrs. Hopkins.”
My cheeks flush at his language, plus the fact that I know Professor Hopkins, and I really like him. He’s one of those sweet, awkward teachers who is so passionate about his subject that he can spend the entire class talking nonstop.
Holding out the sticky note for me, Kieran beckons me forward with a pointed look.
“Oh… uh…” I shuffle a few steps closer to him. My legs are wooden and stiff because I really don’t want to do this!
“Thanks so much, Jolie. I really appreciate it.” He smiles at me. “I’ll expect something on my desk by Monday morning, okay? If you can get some photos, that’d be awesome, or just subtly ask around, see if you can get some usable quotes from people.”
My mouth opens and shuts as I struggle to come up with a decent way to say no.
“I’m not expecting an article, just some proof. We can’t go publishing false information.”
“Uh… I…”
“You do want me to publish something by you again, don’t you, Jolie?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Great.” His smile is broad. “Then you better get to it.”
He points to the door behind me, and I slip out of it, avoiding Heather’s gaze as I head for the exit and wonder what I’ve just gotten myself into.