Page 2 of Until We Burn
“Yes.That.”I can hear the smile brightening her face before she sighs. “Your father and I are so proud of you for making it to your senior year, Diana! We know you’ll bring pride to the Huang name.”
My shoulders slump in relief when the car stops in front of the Dharton Hall University campus.
“Fantastic.”I eagerly gather my bag and my cup of matcha. “I’m heading into class now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Remember everything I said!”
I end the phone call. My forehead slumps against the window; it fogs against my heavy breaths, drawing in and out.
This is your last year of university. All you need to do is stay focused and learn as much as you can before the CEO vote. No matter what happens, put out one fire at a time.
The car door swings open. As I step out of the car, my nerves quiet down under the cool September air stirring through my black hair. I carefully tuck the front strands behind my ear, smooth my hand over my dress, and straighten my collar.
I turn towards Hans with my first genuine smile of the morning. “Thank you for driving me.”
Hans nods. “I’ll be here at five, Miss Diana.”
The surly, blonde chauffeur musters up a small smile just for me. I affectionately adjust his cap before I walk off to my first class of the semester. The click of my heels against the concrete drowns under the swarm of students rushing to their classes.
“Sorry! Excuse me!” A student darts by with her cello hiked onto her shoulders. She veers left just as another student pushes a creaking cart of microscopes past a group of English majors cradling stacks of books.
“Heads up!” The English majors scatter to evade the burly hockey players coming down the path.
Dharton Hall University—more colloquially known as DHU—isrenowned for its versatility and prestige. While other schools usually have one or two stellar programs, DHU is known for having the best programs for every industry. That’s why bàba wanted all the Huangs to attend DHU’s School of Journalism. My older brother Gregory graduated last year, my little sister Sophia is in her third year, and my twin brother Jonathan and I are in our senior year.
The crowds die down the closer I get to the Faculty of Arts. Vibrant chalk drawings of blossoming flowers color the path under my feet. Towering above it all is the Scheifele Building. The floor-to-ceiling windows draw in the morning sun, making the limestone building glitter through the browning trees.
Room 102 is practically empty when I walk in.
I plop my bag down before setting my laptop and cup of matcha on the front-row tabletop. I sink into the swivel chair and open my laptop to look through my agenda for the day.
Look over the first fall issue
News meeting at the Howler (3 pm)
Take notes for yellow journalism reading
My confidence shrivels when I start running over the paper. This is the first issue I’m overseeing as editor-in-chief of DHU’s multimedia outlet, the Howler. Making sure the first issue is polished is the bare minimum. I want the first issue to send a message to all those who voted against me and those who supported me: Under my watch, I will make the Howler the best it can be. Even if I’m struggling to edit while students air out their problems around me.
“Do you guys know if Kai Mason-Maiau is going to be at the Wing and Flame?” a girl asks.
A guy snickers. “Why do you care? I heard Kai isn’t interested in dating anyone.”
Another student scoffs, “And he’s a total fraud. If he was ugly as shit, none of you would be thirsting over him.”
“Oh my god. Shut up, Ryan.”
