I started writing and couldn't stop, so enjoy! I apologize in advance if this chapter is boring... it's a filler.
….
Rule #3: Soccer is the sport of Satan. No matter the circumstances.
"Seriously, you guys again?" Derrick asked as he watched Massie and Alicia walk into journalism. It wasn't held in a typical classroom. There were a couple of large tables that were pushed together to form a rectangle and behind them, against the windows, long tables with computers and a large printer.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Alicia scoffed, curling her hair around her ear.
"Hi," Massie said. She hated herself for not being as confident as Alicia.
Derrick tilted his chair back against the radiator and propped one foot on the table. "Am I in the right place? Or are you two just here to get an easy 'A'?"
"That depends," Alicia started. "Do you like endless boredom? If so, then this school is the right place for you. Every class is basically an easy 'A'."
"No, actually, I meant for the Newspaper. Is this the right room?" Derrick questioned, but slightly laughed at Alicia's comment.
Massie nodded. "Check it out." She pointed to the old framed front pages of the Briarwood Bugle on one wall. It was their school newspaper that consisted of well-developed images.
"Don't worry, the paper's the least boring thing about this place," Alicia exclaimed, "So you know, if you can't handle it and want more endless boredom then there already is, there's probably a chess club meeting you could attend-"
"Hey, I just moved from endless boredom. In fact, that was the name of the place. Had it on all the license plates." Derrick formed the shape of a rectangle with his hands and drew a line across the bottom of it. "The Endless Boredom City."
"You live in New York City, how could it be boring? It's the 'Big Apple'." Alicia remarked. "Why is it even called the 'Big Apple'? It's not like it's the city of fruits."
"I don't understand though, you're so tan. How could you just be from New York City?" Massie asked, but then regretted it. She hated being asked a lot of questions and she felt bad for Derrick. He was the 'new kid' after all and he has probably been asked thousands of questions today.
"Easy. My dad and I just went to South Carolina. He was into golf, me? Not exactly." He remarked.
"Why not?" Alicia asked.
"Because… I hate golf? Derrick said. "Because I can't stand trying to hit a little white ball with eighteen different clubs. Besides, golf shirts are not flattering, I'd have to listen to my dad make small talk and watch him hit on the cart girls, and tell me I should be more like Tiger Woods. Yeah, no thank you."
"Oh. I see. Well, as long as you're not bitter." Alicia turned to Massie and smiled.
A few more people came into the room – Landon Crane, the sports editor, and Griffin Hastings, the managing editor – but no sign of the teacher.
"Hey, while we're waiting for the big cheeses, you want to look over the paper? Here are some of my best columns." Alicia grabbed a stack of papers and handed them to Derrick. "They're actually all good, so. Just randomly read."
Derrick raised an eyebrow. "As long as you're not vain." Derrick added sarcastically.
Alicia had her own editorial column called "Ooh La Leesh." In it she asked around the "dirt burning questions of our time," or so she said. For example, some of her recent topics included "Why are the graduation requirements so rigid? Why can't we just take the subjects we're interested in? Why is there no debate team? Why can't we revise the dress code, this isn't the 1920s? Why can't we have school field trips more often? Why do the budget cuts need to be so deep? Et cetera. Massie, and probably everyone at their school, knew that Alicia would win awards one day. She always won arguments and her creative mind just added to her impeccable qualities.
Massie wasn't nearly as creative, so she stuck with photography. There, she wouldn't have to speak her mind. All her words could be said through one picture. She was good with facts, not expressing her opinion and if things ever happened at their school besides the soccer team's winning streak, photography wouldn't be such a bad assignment. But it usually involved taking pictures of sporting events, not that they won at anything besides soccer. Which is probably why she dreaded the class most of the time – the Briarwood Gods were on the soccer team.
What was good about her job in journalism though, was that she always ended up in the front page of the newspaper. Even though no one really read the newspaper, it was an accomplishment for her. She believed that the fact that her photos were in the front page all the time, it would offset some of the things that she wasn't so good at – like math – in the college-application scales.
"So, I have a question for you Derrick Harringtonderrick," Alicia started. "Why did you move here now? I mean the end of March is kind of a strange time to transfer."
" Yeah no doubt. Well, see, you know Fisherance (a/n: Fisher Insurance Company), right? My dad-"
"He moved here to work there?" Alicia interrupted. "You know, Massie's dad actually works there and so does my mom."
"Really?" Derrick asked astounded. "I know this might be an odd question, but does everyone work there?"
"Almost," Alicia remarked.
"Cam Fisher's dad is the owner of the place," Massie added. They both exchanged an awkward look before Massie started to babble. "Sorry, that wasn't important I just–"
"Still, I don't get it," Alicia said. "You just moved here, and you want to work on the Briarwood Bugle? I pegged you more of a…" She paused, looking down at his large physique.
"Athlete." Massie whispered and Alicia nodded.
Derrick stared at Massie for a few seconds. "I guess it's just because journalism used to run in the family before it died down in New York City. My mom used to work for the New York Times."
"But seriously, why would your dad move here to work at Fisherance?" Alicia asked.
Derrick looked at her, confused. "Do you want me to leave? I feel like I'm being interrogated by the police."
"No!" Alicia yelled, a little too loudly. "No, not at all. I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. I just wondered, you know, why?"
Derrick crumpled an empty plastic candy wrapper in his hand. "Well, the thing is, my dad doesn't exactly work at the company. I mean, he does, but not the way you're thinking. He actually just got hired to run it."
Mr. Bugle walked into the room by the time Derrick finished his sentence, with Claire Lyons, the editor and chief. He was wearing a casual dress suit that hung against his large physique. His sleeves covered his hidden tattoos that Alicia and Massie had once seen, and a pair of black shoes with a tan leather trim that looked straight out of a bowling alley – with a more urban uniqueness. He had a huge selection of shoes that wouldn't really be considered "cool" on anyone else, but they looked good on him. "He's a shoe God," Alicia had said once, and she'd told Massie that he always went to Boston to buy them, and she'd memorized the names of the stores where he went. Alicia knew a lot about Mr. Bugle. It was as if she was in love with Mr. Bugle, actually.
"Not in that way-too-old-for-me Vladimir Nabokov Lolita way, not at all," she'd insisted when she'd tried to explain her feelings to Massie. "I just think he's the greatest teacher I've ever had and probably ever will have." That was how she'd convinced Massie to work on the Briarwood Bugle – by going on and on about how excellent Mr. Bugle was. That and the fact that Stooder was breathing down Massie's neck for her to "get involved."
In the end, Alicia turned out to be right – she usually was any way. Mr. Bugle could light up a room, as cliché as it sounds. He could make one think, and laugh, and want to work on things. Ironic right? Mr. Bugle pushed people to write better, take better photographs, and even choose better fonts than "Times New Roman." He wrote with expensive fountain pens that only people from OCD used, had a huge collection of classic novels, and was one of the teachers who absolutely refused to coach anything, no matter how hard they begged him to take over the track team or revamp the cheerleading squad. He just didn't care for the "extra cash," or well, being well rounded. He took his students out to eat instead. He considered that an extracurricular. He was best friends with Massie's favorite teacher, Mr. Davidson, considering his love for the classic novels, and their bond had always reminded her of hers and Alicia's. Their friendship was just inevitable.
"And you are?" Mr. Bugle asked as he glanced around the staff table and noticed Derrick's blond locks.
Derrick sat up a little straighter. "Derrick Harrington."
"Harringtonderrick," Alicia coughed.
Mr. Bugle glanced at her, a little confused, and then turned back to him. "Hello… Derrick. I'm glad you're here."
"Thank you," Derrick said. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Bugle." He waved at the rest of the newspaper staff. "Hey, everyone."
"So, you just transferred here?" Mr. Bugle asked as he sat on the edge of his desk up in the front; he was always interested in his student's lives. "Where were you before this?"
Derrick tapped a pen against the table. "Well, it's sort of a long story. I mean, I went to OCD, and I'm here now. That's basically it, I guess."
"You certainly are," Alicia added. "And you have our sympathy."
"Ignore her," Mr. Bugle joked. "We've all learned to," he grinned at Alicia when she crossed her arms. "Did you work on your school's newspaper?"
"Sort of. I was kind of just the guy that put the newspapers into the stand."
"Well, what can you actually do?" Claire Lyons barked. Alicia and Massie had never really liked her. She was always so bossy and got into people's business. It was the school's newspaper, not The New York Times or The Washington Post. Derrick looked at her and seemed a little taken aback.
"You know, Mr. Bugle, we really need someone to cover sports." Landon Crane commented.
The sports section was usually two pages long – it was always about the soccer team and it was a lot, considering the paper was four pages total.
"Oh. Well, that's cool. But I'm not that interested in writing about sports because, well..." Derrick responded.
"Cause why? Did you even go to school?" Claire sneered. Mr. Bugle quickly waved away her rude remarks.
"Neither am I. Great men think alike. I've been trying to downsize that section for years." Mr. Bugle smiled. "We'll find something else for you, don't worry. We never turn away anyone who wants to go into journalism."
"Very noble of you," Derrick commented.
"Oh, we're extremely noble," Alicia said. "We're constantly getting awards for that. Pultizer Prizes– "
"Nobel Prizes," Derrick added jokingly.
Alicia nodded, laughing. "Exactly." She gave Massie a look, like do you believe this? It was strange, how they seemed to have the sense of humor… but why did that make Massie feel… angry?
"Let me introduce you to everyone Mr. Harrington," Mr. Bugle started before getting interrupted with Alicia's "Harringtonderrick," comment. Mr. Bugle cleared his throat. "This is our editor and chief, Claire Lyons."
Claire gave Derrick a very tight smile, as if she hadn't wanted to, but was doing it out of politeness. It was difficult having Claire as editor in chief, because she didn't like anyone who didn't do things her way. However, she was the only one willing to do work the hardest, so in a way she deserved the job. She was a senior, the yearbook editor, held the attendance record at their school, and had never been late to school, not even in blinding snowstorms. "She's one of those big-fish-in-a-small-pond people." Alicia had said when Claire got the job. "When she leaves here, she'll be nobody and she won't be able to deal with it. So let her be in charge for now."
"Griffin, our managing editor," Mr. Bugle continued. "Massie, our photographer. And if you already don't know, Alicia, whose editorial column, 'Oh La Leesh' is legendary around here. In her mind, any way."
"Oh. You're hurting me. You're killing me," Alicia sarcastically yelped.
"Sports, we have Landon. Layout is done by Dylan Marvil and proofreading by Allie-Rose Singer. And that about rounds out our illustrious staff." Mr. Bugle finished.
"Maybe I could do something with lifestyle, you know an arts or entertainment section?" Derrick suggested.
"I handle all the entertainment news," Claire said groggily.
Derrick just stared at her with a surprised look on his face. Massie knew what he was thinking: Claire didn't exactly seem like the person with the word "fun" in her vocabulary, much less a person to write a whole article on entertainment.
"Can't you use a little help?" Alicia asked her. "I mean there's way more we could put into the section, like movies and such."
"Movies haven't been in my selection because they're all rated R and not suitable for our student body." Claire exclaimed and smoothed the back of her long, blond-high-lighted-hair. She was a little on the uptight side.
"Well, how about a gossip column then?" he suggested. "Reporting on who was seen where and with whom." Massie stared at Derrick. She could picture him with a tiny reporter's notepad, following people around town, sitting in diners and bars and the town square, and looking for Briarwood dirt. He'd probably find a lot – especially about the Briarwood Gods. Not that she wanted news about them.
"I don't know, Derrick. I don't think it'd be that interesting. And if it was too interesting, we'd be in a little dilemma." Mr. Bugle exclaimed, tapping the desk with his expensive 'Montblanc Red Gold Fineliner Pen' – or just a pen, as most people called it.
"Like Landon said, we have an opening in sports. Take it or leave it." Claire said bluntly.
"Well, if you're going to put it that way." Derrick smiled at Claire. "I'll take it."
"Oh." She seemed vaguely disappointed and quite startled, but then straightened up. "Okay."
"Ever written about sports?" Landon asked. "Do you play any? Hockey? Soccer? Basketball? Football?"
"Does cycling count?" Derrick questioned.
"Um, sure. I guess." Landon sounded a little confused. "But I don't know if we'll ever have anything to report about that."
"Well, no, not until I get the team started," Derrick said. "But after that? Wow. Look out. Constant reportage."
"Yeah. Good luck with that," Landon told him under his breath.
"You can report what Landon says, after he and I discuss it," Claire mentioned. "Don't go off on some wild tangent though, we've had enough of that here." Claire glanced towards Alicia and Massie. Alicia scoffed.
Derrick sat back a little in his chair. "Okay then. Nothing… tangential." He looked at Alicia. "Is that a word?"
"It's very big in the geometry world, so yes." She told him.
While Claire and Mr. Bugle talked with Landon about how and what to delegate, Derrick scooted his chair closer to Massie. "So what's this guy like?" He gestured towards Mr. Bugle. "Is he cool? Does he up for Little Miss–"
"Yes," Massie interrupted him. "He does."
"And there are lot of perks being on staff," Alicia said. "There's this conference in Boston and we get to go for the whole weekend– "
"So, basically you guys are in this for a free trip to Boston." Derrick nodded.
"Well… yeah." Alicia agreed. "We usually go in the summer anyway, but this'll be like a bonus."
Massie hadn't really thought yet about what it would actually mean to go there this year. It wasn't exactly her favorite place to go.
"Okay?" Derrick waved his hand in front of Massie's face.
"What?" she asked.
"Boston. You, me, and I'll-leash-a-river-uh over here."
Massie nodded slowly and smiled. What was he talking about? "Sure," she ended up replying.
Alicia cleared her throat to clear the awkwardness arising. "She just gets choked up over the idea of leaving town. And speaking of which – you know, Derrick Harringtonderrick, we're really glad you moved here. But I heard that the town's sort of miffed."
"Why's that?" Derrick asked.
"Now they're going to have to redo the population sign. From 902 to 905."
Derrick sort of half smiled. "Actually it's 904. Until my dad kicks me out of the house, then it'll be 903."
"And this is going to happen?" Alicia looked shocked.
Derrick shrugged. "You never know."
Massie looked at Derrick. She finally put the pieces together of what he had bluntly implied – his mother wasn't around. She wanted to ask why, but she couldn't. That was too personal. He'd tell them eventually. She didn't want to push him like her other teachers did – except Mr. Davidson, of course.
"So we have some assignments for you," Claire coughed. "Did you check out some old issues?" Derrick nodded.
"How does it look?"
"Like you need me," He stated, looking at the framed newspapers on the wall. "Desperately."
"Excuse me?" Claire glared at him. Nobody talked to Claire like that, not even Alicia, no matter how hard she wanted to.
But Massie kind of thought he was right.
.&.
Massie hated third period. In fact, she dreaded it every other day. Third period consisted of the Briarwood Gods and no Alicia to help her deal with the pain. Whom else could Massie dislike more? She had thought about asking for a schedule change, but that would only mean one thing… She would have to face the wrath of Mr. Stooder again and she really wasn't in the mood for a psychological evaluation. So, Cam Fisher and his sidekicks would have to do.
"Massie, hey!" Cam yelled, catching up to Massie's fast pace. Massie smiled, she should have seen this coming. Cam started to shift awkwardly and placed his hand on to the back of his neck.
"So, you coming to the game this Wednesday?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah, I kind of have to." Massie stated, pointing towards the camera around her neck. "Being the photographer and all."
Cam slightly chuckled. "Yeah, I kind of forgot you were into that."
"That doesn't surprise me much." Massie smiled. "You were always one to forget." She knew she was a little harsh, but what was it about the Briarwood Gods that they didn't understand what the words "Leave me the hell alone," meant?
"Same old Massie." Cam smiled. "So I was thinking – "
"Oh wow, something new."
"Classic." Cam grinned. "Any ways, since you're going to be at the game and I'm going to play at the game, you might as well wear my jersey. You know, for old times sake."
Massie stared at wool fabric of the traditional soccer jersey. It was tradition at their school that before a huge game, the team would pick a person to wear their jersey. Usually they chose their girlfriends and Massie had been Cam's jersey-wearing girlfriend.
She remembered when she was first given the maroon and navy-lettered shirt. Its synthetic fibers hung against her milky toned skin and she would inhale the addicting smell of his Drakkar Noir cologne. She recalled girls looking at her with envy. Every girl wanted Cam's jersey, but Massie got it. She didn't understand why she had loved it last year so much. She even kept it in her dresser and wore it at night until Cam had asked for it back so he could play in the next game. But now, when she looked at it, it was just a limp piece of fabric with the words "Fisher" monogrammed on the back. It was nothing special. It was now just Cam's soccer jersey.
"I know it's not the best gesture considering we haven't really talked much since the incident, but–"
"Can you just please leave me alone? Is that so much to ask for? We broke up months ago."
"6 months." Cam added. "And you never gave me an explanation for it Massie. You never told me what I did wrong." Massie stared at him, trying to find a good answer, but she couldn't. She didn't exactly know why she broke up with him. He had nothing to do with the situation, but at the same time he had everything to do with the situation.
"I think you know very well why I broke up with you."
"Massie, I wasn't the one who agreed to come to the game that night. You were." Cam retorted.
"Don't try to blame this on me." Massie implored, attempting to calm herself down by taking the yoga breathes that Alicia had taught her. "I was at your soccer game, cheering you on that day."
"That's not what I'm trying to say it's just–"
"Why is it that I was the one that sat in the stands, in the freezing cold if I may add, cheering you on and yet, I never got anything in return? Instead, I get things that are most valuable to me taken away. Is that a good enough explanation for you?"
But Massie didn't let Cam answer.
…
I dropped a lot of hints for Massie's secret, but you all will find out soon if you haven't already. I'm kind of iffy on this chapter. Not sure if I like the last part of this chapter that much. Oh, and before I get "bashed" on, I do not believe that Soccer is actually the sport of Satan!
I forgot to do this last time, but thanks to those that reviewed the last chapter: Joan, dead end justice, Libby, we remain infinite, purplexheart, louiscide, get frisky, Massiekurrr, to infinity and beyonder, and xstaybeautiiful :-)
xx- Sami
