Chapter 21
ALEX
My feet feel like they’re made of mush as I walk through the doors of The Goldberg newsroom, carrying a clipboard and a pen tucked behind my ear.
I’m the first one in the room today, which I intentionally planned for.
If Fiona wants me to be the interim editor-in-chief today, I need to feel comfortable being on my own and absorbing the newsroom's rhythm before acting like the commanding presence she always reminds me an editor should be.
I sigh as I plop into my chair and try to run through how the meetings usually go.
Fiona cc’d me on all the emails she received from my colleagues, along with all the pieces they’re working on, and told me I had to read every single one before the meeting.
I also had to go over how much better the paper performed this week compared to last week and assess how the month was shaping up overall.
Clearly, Mason’s sports coverage is outperforming everything else, even the Features and Opinions sections.
Right now, football feels like the biggest thing on campus.
I’ve always known it was popular, but after spending time around Logan and going to that football game the other week, it feels so much bigger to me now.
I ended up texting Logan about leading the meeting today, and he responded with a simple Congrats!
Usually, that kind of message sparks a whole conversation between us, but that was it.
I was honestly expecting some kind of follow-up text wishing me luck today, but he hasn’t said anything since.
I’m not that surprised.
In that moment between us in the car, I leaned in closer than what’s considered normal between friends. I keep trying to tell myself I wasn’t trying to kiss him, but I’m not sure what else it could have been.
Now I think I might have crossed a line.
And now he’s trying to put some distance between us.
I snap out of my thoughts as Mason walks through the door, his wavy hair clinging to his forehead and his glasses fogged with rain.
“Hey. Got caught in the rain?” I ask.
He sighs and drops his bag onto his desk. “Yeah. I still don’t have an umbrella. No one to blame but myself.”
I pull the pencil from behind my ear and start tapping it against my desk.
“You promise to take it easy on me today?”
Mason chuckles. “I’m not fussy. It’s Editorials and Features you’ll have to worry about.”
I’ve watched Anna and Philip argue with Fiona about pieces they wanted to include in the paper before, and it’s never been pretty.
Fiona’s already vicious, and part of me thinks I’ll cave the second anyone tries to argue with me.
Today, I have to act like Fiona, not how I would act as editor. I have to channel Fiona’s discernment and her ability to terrify her colleagues, and hopefully walk away unscathed.
“How’s Logan?” Mason asks as he pulls things out of his bag and checks them for water damage.
My heart stutters at the mention of Logan and how close his face was to mine.
“Uh—fine. He’s fine.”
Mason looks at me for a beat longer than usual, but he doesn’t say anything.
“How’s Callum?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
Mason puffs out a breath, and I watch some of the playfulness drain from his expression.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Joel and some of the football team are being more of a prick than usual toward him.”
“I’m sorry.”
Mason doesn’t look back up at me. “Thanks.”
He opens his laptop and starts typing.
“I’m sure Logan’s been having a rough time with it, too. Callum’s told me about the rumors.”
I frown. “What rumors?”
Mason looks up at me and immediately seems to realize he’s said too much.
“Nothing. Just—ask Logan. Pretend I didn’t say anything, okay?”
I open my mouth to question him, but Anna and a few other colleagues trudge into the newsroom, all of them soaked to varying degrees from the rain.
I tense as I think about how I’m going to have to stand in front of everyone and act like I’m in charge. Like my voice is enough to guide and lead.
This is the moment that will tell me whether I’m meant to be editor or not.
“So, you don’t like it.”
“No, I didn’t say that. I think you just have to cut it by a few hundred words,” I say in the nicest voice I can manage to Jeremy.
“So you want to take away my voice completely?” Jeremy counters.
I let out a shaky breath as I mull over the right way to tell him what he needs to hear.
“It’s not about your voice. Your prose is great, and your words pack a punch, but you repeat yourself a few times. Find a way to say what needs to be said only once, okay?”
“Okay… but it’s already only a thousand words.”
“Fine. Cut a hundred words. At least,” I settle on.
Jeremy seems pleased with my direction and makes a note in his notebook.
Anna raises her hand. I point to her.
“I was wondering about part two of the overuse-of-technology feature. Have you given the okay on it?”
Everyone turns to face me, and for the first time in this meeting, I feel at a loss for words.
“I, uh—”
Mason stares at me, and his eyes seem to be telling me to say yes.
“I’d have to check with Fiona, but… you did a great job on part one, and I think it’s a significant issue we need to talk about. I think we should move forward with it.”
Happy murmurs ripple across the room, as if they’d all been betting on Fiona saying no.
Did I just speak too much for her?
Philip raises his hand. “I was wondering if you got the photos I sent that need approval.”
I nod. “Yes. Whatever you sent to Fiona, I also received. They all look good to me.”
Philip squints. “So you have… no feedback?”
I shift on my feet, wondering what he’s expecting me to say. Does he want me to have feedback?
“No, they all look good for printing. Why?”
Philip blinks. “Nothing. I just thought Fiona would have a problem with some of them.”
“Well, I’m not Fiona. At least today I’m not—whatever. Ignore what I just said. Yes, they’re approved. By me,” I add.
More happy murmurs scatter across the room.
Is this how team meetings are supposed to go, or am I taking things too easy on them?
Not long after, everyone has their pieces for the week approved and gives me smiles and goodbyes as they leave the newsroom.
Mason pats me on the shoulder. “That might not have been how Fiona wanted the meeting to go, but it’s what we needed.”
“Really?” I ask.
Mason nods. “Working with her keeps us on our toes, in good and bad ways, but sometimes we need some levity. I know that, with time, you’ll become an even better critic, but we all appreciate what you did for us today.”
Mason says goodbye and leaves me alone in the newsroom to process the past hour.
I slump into my desk chair. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train and am soaring above the clouds at the same time.
Despite my own reservations, I was able to lead the meeting without upsetting anyone or letting anyone walk all over me. Maybe I’m more cut out for being an editor than I think I am.
I pull out my phone and open my text conversation with Logan.
My thumbs hover over the screen. I want to tell him how well it went, but instead, I toss my phone back onto my desk.
I have to let him come to me. He’ll ask how it went if he wants to know.
My stomach sinks at the thought that he could just never text me again. Maybe it would be for the best. I don’t want what I’m feeling to blossom into something too strong to deny.
Almost immediately, my phone vibrates.
I snatch it off my desk and see a text from my mom asking when I’m coming home.
I get up from my desk, pack my things into my bag, and leave the newsroom in a flash, trying to ignore the way my heart sinks at Logan’s silence.