Page 17 of Forever Defiant
Chapter 5
Hadley
Professor Flannigan’s office looked exactly like it always did — like a library and a landfill had a baby. Papers everywhere, books stacked in leaning towers, and him hunched behind the ‘organized’ chaos with his glasses halfway down his nose.
I stood in the doorway, hovering, not sure I wanted to disturb him, but also needing to disturb him.
“Your loitering is annoying, Hadley. Either come in, or flutter away so I can concentrate, don’t just stand in my doorway.”
I grinned at him as he looked at me over his glasses. “Morning, Professor.”
He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I already feel the heartburn...”
“You’re so funny, really, you should have been a comedian, sir.” I slipped inside his office and closed the door. I liked that he’d replaced his frosted window on the door with clear glass, and he never had the blinds refitted. Anyone could look in.
I’d heard Dean Cole mutter a few times about him getting his “shambles of an office cleaned.” I was kind of invested in the office staying like a hurricane had passed through, and anyone who looked could see it too.
“So, remember the other day I pitched my idea to you and you said, and I quote—” I held up my phone and read out loud — “‘That’s an interesting idea. I think you should do it.’” I glanced up at him. The glasses were back on, but the look of wariness hadn’t dissipated. “And then you said, and I quo—”
“You don’t need to quote me, Hadley,” he grumbled. “I know damn well what I said.”
I put my phone down. “Well, it’s just that I know others have been making connections with their projects, and I haven’t heard anything from you. So...”
“I changed my mind.” He gave me a flat look. “Don’t give me wide-eyed innocence. You know why.” He stared out into the hallway. “I’m not in the mood to fight for your place in this school again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Will you stop being such a crybaby? That was one time. And it wasn’t even really anything.”
“It was last semester,” he reminded me. “And you’re still in the hot seat for it.”
Fair. Painfully fair.
“They overreacted.”
He gave me a look so skeptical I grinned.
“It was a simple mistake for a blogger,” I carried on. “It’s not my fault they thought you were involved.” True, but I did still feel bad for dragging him into my mess. I pulled out my form from my backpack and placed it on his desk, right on top of the stack of papers he was grading, so he couldn’t avoid looking at it.
“Just hear me out. I learned my lesson, and as I said to you when we spoke about this, I think that it will show you and the dean—” I grumbled when I spoke of him and pushed hurriedly on — “that I have learned a valuable lesson in impartial reporting, and what better way to prove that than to cover the team? It’s going into spring training, they get all excited and stuff, the media covers all the stats and the sporty things, but let’s dive deeper into the players. How does it feel for them? What are their pressures? Hang-ups? Concerns? Team dynamics? You know. Delve into the men behind the stats.”
He was watching me shrewdly. “They will never let you near Dante Spence.”
I blinked. “Oh God, no. I wouldn’t want to. Have you seen him? He’s just so... fake.”
Professor Flannigan actually smirked. “He’s really not, and he’s insanely talented. Hadley, you don’t evenlikefootball. You don’t know the difference between the offense and the defense.”
I frowned. “Well, see, a double learning opportunity for me. And even better that I don’t know, it will make thediveinto the players be even more about the men and not the stats. Because I don’t know the player,” I added lamely.
He was already shaking his head. “I think you need to deep dive into something that doesn’t involve the athletic department. And in particular, let’s keep you away from the football program. You barely avoided academic misconduct charges last year. I’ve thought about it, and while it is a good piece for the project, it isnota good piece for you.”
“If they weren’t corrupt, they wouldn’t have had so much to hide.”
“I think you just made my point.”
I glared at his desk in frustration. I’d been so sure my Jedi mind tricks had worked on him. “Honestly, despite my grumblings, I know better. I had no proof, only hearsay, and I made a mess. I almost got kicked out. I need this. It can be their piece, but my arc of redemption.”
“You should be a fiction writer.” He leaned back in his chair. “Your ability to create fantasy is impressive.”
“Definitely missed out as a comedian.” I needed to form a new line of attack. “You know, I think you aren’t considering all the points here—”
