Page 10 of The Change Up
I hate the cold.
So much for me going home to read. Instead, I’m going to have to fight all the unprepared Texans at the store.
An ice storm? What the hell?
This is Texas. We don’t do ice.
Rushing down the stairs, I enter the newsroom and make my way over to the last empty desk. I still beat the professor so I’m not technically late, but I’m definitely tardy by my standard.
The room is filled with desks which would resemble an office space with cubicles, only our desks aren’t separated by walls. It’s an open space that can be chaotic when people are in a rush toget their articles in on time, but I love the chaos. I thrive on the noise. The sound of fingers hitting keys. Of phones ringing. And our editor demanding assignments. It all thrills me.
Flopping down in my desk chair, I start unbuttoning my trench coat and removing the multiple layers I have on. Abby, one of the other staff members, gives me a quick nod as she smiles over at me in a way of greeting. She handles more of the political beats. I don’t envy her.
Professor Weaver enters the room as she slams the door closed behind her. Everyone, including me, jumps at the loud noise. “I did not mean to do that,” she says, cringing at the noise. “Okay, today is going to be quick. In case you hadn’t heard, there’s an ice storm heading this way, and I want you all out of here as soon as possible.”
She is now the second person to bring up this potential storm. Maybe my dad wasn’t overreacting for once. Shit, I really shouldn’t have deleted the weather app off my phone. But we aren’t supposed to get harsh winter weather in Texas. It’s why I love living here, well, part of the reason. There was no way I was moving out of state and away from my dad.
Tossing her coat on her desk, she quickly types in her login for her computer. The projector flicks on, and we take in the screen before us.
“Now, this semester is not going to be what anyone was expecting. It’s taken a couple of weeks to sort out assignments given the circumstances the newspaper organization has found themselves in with the university.”
What does she mean? This is supposed to be my year. My turn to showcase how much my writing has improved. If I don’t get to cover the festival, I’m going to be devastated. This is my chance to break out from the pack. To show other magazines and newspapers that I have what it takes. Dread courses through myveins, and I’m really questioning my decision to even get out of bed.
“As you all know, we had quite the drama with our sports beat team. Joe and David have been removed from our staff and are facing further disciplinary action from the university.”
Murmurs fill the room as everyone whispers over the rumors that caused CTU to expel two students on the staff. Rumors have been flying throughout campus, but no one has gotten the entire truth told to them. Supposedly, the two were engaging in illegal drugs and sex parties at the hotels the school was paying for. Not sure of all the details, but no matter what, it wasn’t good.
Professor Weaver clears her throat, gaining everyone’s attention before continuing. “With that being said, we now need to shuffle veteran staff members around to make sure that an experienced writer is covering the Sports A Team, especially with it being Coach Weber’s honorary year.”
Please don’t let it be me. Please don’t let it be me.
“Chloe Mariano, you will be assisting in the sports coverage this semester. You’ll be the lead with a focus on the baseball program and the featured article on Coach Weber.” And my stomach sinks. “Abby Taylor, you’ll be shifting focus and covering the Red, White, and Brew festival.”
Sports? This is not how this semester was supposed to go. I was supposed to be the lead and write the most epic article that was going to be my big break. It would’ve been the perfect article to submit for any upcoming internships, which I need to start applying for this semester.
“Professor Weaver.” I force myself to speak up.
But before I have a chance to continue, she interrupts me. “Chloe, I understand this isn’t what you were wanting. Truthfully, none of us wanted this outcome. However, we are all doing what we have to do given the situation. You’re not only one of our strongest writers, but you’re someone I can trust totake traveling seriously and not participate in any behavior that would embarrass the newspaper. I know that you’ll do a fantastic job covering sports. At this time, either take the position or see yourself out.”
The harsh tone and words cut through me, and I’m taken back at the forceful nature Professor Weaver speaks.
With a forced, tight smile, I nod in acceptance.
“Great. Now that that’s settled, the rest of you will be covering your usual assignments. Politics will be discussed at a later time as we work to create a joint task force.” She pauses, and her eyes sweep over the room where some of the underclassmen are sitting. “Sports B Team, while I know this is also not the news you wanted, as no one is being promoted to lead, please know it’s not because I don’t think you’re talented. It’s because we need a veteran on this story. You’ll be splitting up the coverage of the remaining spring sports. That’s all for today. Look forward to more details coming in your email. In the meantime, get out of here and start prepping for the ice storm. Stay safe everyone.”
While Weaver is busy closing out her tabs, I quickly stand and start dressing with all of the warm layers that I had on. I never should’ve taken them off considering we were only in here for a few minutes. I understand she didn’t want to deliver this news in an email, but it was seriously a waste of everyone’s time to venture in here today.
Grabbing my purse, I turn to leave and ignore Abby calling my name.
Not only did she steal my opportunity, but now I’m going to be forced to spend the entire semester with Cody Jacobs.
Tears burn the corner of my eyes as I fight like hell to keep the moisture from sliding down my cheeks. I’m not going to let my fellow team see me as weak. But dammit, the disappointment is strong.
Climbing up the stairs, I turn down the nearest hallway that I know has a public restroom. I just need to make it to the stall, and I can let myself be weak.
Pushing through the doors, I find the room vacant as I make my way to the last stall and flip the lock behind me. Ripping off a piece of toilet paper, I hold it in my hand to use while placing the seat down for me to sit on. As soon as I sit, the tears flood my vision.
With my face in my hands, I just let myself have a moment to react.
