Page 2 of All That Glitters

“It’s 3 p.m. You know what that means.” Charlie rolls a nearby chair into the center of the room and plops onto it backward. “Hit me.”

All of the writers in the room shoot their hands up. I’m not sure who was first, because it seemed to me like we were in sync. Charlie’s gaze bounces around the room. He gestures to Hector to go first. Hector is a senior, so it makes sense that he would get a chance to pitch first.

“Professor Dowelen just returned from a sabbatical where he toured Malaysia. I was thinking a profile piece on his journey and how it will affect his courses going forward would be interesting,” Hector says from where he’s leaning against his desk a few rows down.

Charlie nods in approval.

“I like that. And it would connect with the piece we did when he left. A full-circle story.”

Hector gives a triumphant grin. Charlie can be picky, so it’s got to feel great to have your idea accepted as is with no adjustments.

I shoot my hand up as soon as the interaction seems complete. Charlie dips his head in my direction.

“Belmore. You’re up.”

I glance down at my journal. I wrote a few ideas, but it’s hard to decide on what the best one is. While I think they’re all great, I’m not editor in chief.

“How about an exploration of the offseason for the Thrashers football team? I’m friends with the quarterback—”

Charlie cuts me off with a shake of his head.

“Jameson did a piece on their championship win not long ago. While everyone loves football, the season is over, and the paper needs to reflect current events.”

I deflate like a slashed tire. Paisley shoots me a sympathetic look.

“Sinclair, do you have another cover-worthy piece for us?” Charlie asks before I can say that I have other ideas.

I grip my pen so hard I think the shell cracks a little.

“The hockey team has gone undefeated so far,” Jameson says, only increasing my anger.

He’s on the hockey team. Of course he’d be so arrogant as to suggest that a piece be done about him. It’s not enough that he steals all the best stories and gets his work on the cover, he has to be the star of the articles themselves, too.

“Since I’m on the team, I don’t know that writing it myself would be the best idea, but I thought it was worth covering. Maybe a long-term piece about the road to the playoffs.”

Charlie tips his head to the side, thinking. I glare at Jameson, who pretends not to notice. Though, maybe he can’t feel me looking at him anymore. That awful pain in my chest returns.

“I like that idea, but I want to give it a little twist. What if you write from the perspective of a player, while another reporter writes from the outside looking in?”

“I can get behind that,” Jameson says. He doesn’t smile the way Hector did. That would be too much positive emotion for the brooding hockey player. I glance at my pen, wondering if anyone would notice if I chucked it at his head.

“Belmore.”

I pop my head up, meeting Charlie’s gaze.

“I want you to work with Sinclair. The two of you are my best sports reporters. You’ve got two weeks before the first article needs to be on my desk. I’m thinking this will be an ongoing series.”

My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“That would be great. Thank you,” I manage to get out.

“Perfect. Who’s next?”

More hands shoot up. I reluctantly meet Jameson’s eyes across the aisle. There’s a storm brewing in his expression. I’m sure it matches the one in my own. The last thing I want is to spend more time with the man—no, boy—that ripped my heart out and threw it in the trash.

I quell the panic rising in my chest and steel my spine.

I can do this.