The BSC Legacy – Book 4: Adolescence Passing
By: CNJ
PG-13
2: At The Top Of Things
Mary Anne:
"You'll do fine; don't worry," Mona patted my shoulder as she and Claudia went into the yearbook room while I headed to the journalism club.
Usually at the beginning of each year, the new head editor of the Beacon gives a short speech as to what their goals are for the school newspaper that year. And this year it's my turn; I'm the new head editor this year.
Ms. Fedders gave a short speech, welcoming all of us back and welcoming the three new students, freshmen who wanted to sign up.
Looking over at them made me remember when I had been one of the new freshmen, nervous and a little eager. Mentally, I wished them good luck. Finally, Ms. Fedders introduced me as the head editor to the freshmen, then nodded for me to say something.
I was sitting near the front, so I turned my chair to face everyone and began in a low faltering, quavery voice, "I'm very pleased to be selected for this position..."
As I continued speaking, my heart began to pound and I could feel all eyes on me, probably wondering if I had the courage to be a leader.
Suddenly, a thought of Jenny Prezzioso, one of the BSC's charges, ran through my mind as I spoke, reminding me of the time she ran a high fever. Even though I'd been scared, I'd taken charge and managed to stay calm and keep her calm until I'd gotten her to a hospital.
That thought brought on the time I'd saved Timmy Hsu from drowning, another frightening time in my life. That was the summer after the senior BSC had graduated from eighth grade.
Then my old house flashed through my mind. That awful house fire had burned down our old farm house the summer after tenth grade. I'd been so full of numb, stark terror for a few days after that, then cried ten oceans of tears, worrying about how I was going to put my life back together, but I'd managed to do it with my friends' support.
Twice, I had to clear my throat as I spoke and the second time, another memory flashed through my mind.
That's the way you see things. And that brought on Logan Bruno's face. He used to be my boyfriend back in eighth and ninth grade, but then I needed space and he couldn't deal with that. That was when he'd told me that's the way you see things when I tried to tell him how I was feeling.
"...I hope I can..." my voice broke and I had to clear my throat a third time.
I hesitated a minute, closed my eyes a second, then a rush of determination took over me. Of course, many things were the way each person saw them! And I'd make damn well sure that everyone's view was heard in here and that no one would be made to feel like they're "crazy" for seeing things their way or to feel that their opinions were "inferior" to another person's. I'd fight my many fears to see to that.
Looking at everyone, I was able to continue in a louder, clear, strong voice.
"One promise I will make here is that everyone's voice will be heard and that no one's opinions will be shamed or put down. That's one goal of journalism. To make sure everyone's heard," I finished.
The room was quiet a minute, then kids started to whoop and clap. I let out the breath I wasn't aware I was holding and my hands went limp with relief. Wow, I did it.
Ms. Fedders smiled at me. "Good speech, Mary Anne! Is everybody ready to start on articles for the first issue of the year?"
"Yeaaaaah..." everyone chimed in as I opened my pad and started writing the ideas down. I had the feeling I was going to enjoy being the head editor of the Beacon this year.
Claudia:
Since I had my mom's car, I gave Mona and Mary Anne a ride home. The green in the leaves are starting to fade and a few trees are beginning to change colors. On the way home, we talked about our meetings. Mona and I love being the senior designers of the yearbook Visions.
"...and the seniors are having their pictures in color this year after all," I told Mary Anne.
"Oh, great!" Mary Anne whooped.
"And Caitlin Giotti has some fantastic ideas for senior year," Mona added. Caitlin Giotti is the senior class president.
"Kind of strange to look at the freshmen and remember we were there four short years ago," Mary Anne added.
"It seems almost like yesterday, yet it seems a long time ago too," I turned up Burnt Hill Road.
"Back when I was at Burkeview," Mona put in.
"And when the IN clique threatened to take over SHS," I added. "Thanks to Ms. Silverbein and Operation Today's Good Youth last year, things will be a bit easier for the incoming students."
"So much happened in these past few years," Mary Anne pulled on her backpack as I slowed in front of her house.
"It sure has," I added.
We waved bye, then I dropped Mona off, actually parked in front of my house, since she lives practically a couple of houses down from me, right in Mary Anne's old house. Waving at each other, we headed inside.
Neither of my parents were home yet, so I checked the e-mail. There was one from Janine, who is in her third year at the Naval Academy. It's not the big one in Maryland, but a smaller one in Arlington, Virginia near the Arlington Cemetery.
She and her cadet troop are starting a new training program which was something on spotting engine trouble on ships by computer. Sounded interesting, even if I didn't get all the technical terms.
I e-mailed her back, updating her on Stoneybrook happenings here and my work on the yearbook, then logged off and put some things in the microwave to warm up for dinner, since my parents would be home in about a half hour.