The Boy Next Door (21 page)

Cindy glared at Millie with piercing emerald eyes. Her thin, angular face gave her a stern demeanor and she licked her thin lips before she spoke.

“These match reports commemorate the season. They help people relive the moments they witnessed, and it brings back all those good feelings. When they feel good reading our paper they start to associate those feelings with our paper. Right now the football team is enjoying its best ever period and we have to make sure that we're there to report on every throw, every kick, and every match. When you write the reports I want you to try to show some of the passion that the crowd feels and try and evoke the feelings that you can see on people's faces. When they read it I want them to feel like they were there, I want your words to make them experience the passion of the game. What I don't want are dry statistics. That's not what I want this paper to be about. I want it to be about how the game makes you feel, about the emotions that are involved,” she said. Millie sighed.

“You mean I have to do more of these?” she said.

“Of course. I didn't just assign you to this for one game. This assignment is yours for the season. I thought you would have been happy, this role will be invaluable for you. You want to be a journalist, right?”

“Yeah, but not a sports journalist.”

“It's all good experience. Besides, I thought I was doing you a favor. You get a taste of glory this way, and you get to play a part in what's probably going to be the best year this school has ever seen. What more could you want?”

Millie looked at her editor and wanted to vent her frustrations, but instead she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and acquiesced. Over the following few weeks she followed the team to all their matches and did as Cindy asked. She sat with Matt in the stands and wrote report after report, always trying to get a sense of the crowd and what they were feeling, trying to remember the moments that made them gasp or cheer. She celebrated the wins with a bouncing rhythm and a cheerful tone, and she wrote about the losses as though the world had ended, using her natural flair to create a compelling narrative that continued through the season.

When Andy King got injured she wrote about how the coach would have to change his tactics to accommodate the replacements, and she came up with a feature about how the team could use some unorthodox selections to baffle the next set of opponents. The more she watched football the more of an expert she became. She saw the nuance of the tactics and became familiar with the different plays that the coach implemented, and at the middle of it all was Trey Fournier.

She began to appreciate the effort he put in on the field, but she still didn't like how everyone treated him as though he was a genius, and how they were talking about giving him the key to the city. The reaction to him seemed like an overload of emotion, and she wished that people could be more level-headed. She was always invited to the after parties but never attended. She wished to remain separate from the culture, afraid that she was getting sucked into the world and wouldn't be able to escape if she wanted to. Part of her fear resulted from the fact that she was beginning to enjoy writing about football, and she was even beginning to enjoy watching it as well. Now, when the crowd cheered she often cheered along with them. When the Angels scored she clenched a fist in triumph, and when she wrote about the game afterwards she smiled as she relived the moments of glory.

“You know, I'm beginning to think you're enjoying this,” Matt remarked on one rainy evening. The field was mud and the torrential rain poured down relentlessly. Millie was standing underneath an umbrella but the wind whipped the rain underneath, and caused her notes to smudge. She didn't care because she knew that she would be able to write a good report about how people were willing to go out in the pouring rain to cheer on her team, about how the players slogged through the sludge and came off caked with mud, and how they were willing to go through all that just for one victory to further cement their place as the most dominant team in the region.

Cindy was more impressed with Millie's work as well and gave her much praise. It was a double-edged sword however, because the more successful Millie was, the more cemented in place she knew she would become. Every time a new edition of the paper would come out it wasn't her own piece that she turned to first, but Adrian's. He always had an interesting piece about something that was going on in the school or in the wider world, about something that had real substance, and she read it with envy because that was still what Millie wanted to do; as much as she was enjoying writing about football it wasn't fulfilling her soul.

4

Feeling like she had paid enough dues, Millie stormed in Cindy's office with the intention of demanding a new role within the paper.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Matt had asked when she had told him what she intended. “You know that Cindy doesn't take any prisoners and she won't have any qualms about firing you. Do you really want to risk losing what you have?”

“I can't do it anymore, Matt. Sure it's fun being in the paper but I can't have this be my one contribution. If I'm going to get into the school I want I'm going to need something more in my portfolio. You know what I'm going to be up against. There are going to be people that have written real stories with important messages and all I'm going to have to show for my efforts are a bunch of match reports demonstrating no journalistic skill.”

“At least you'll have something to show. If you get kicked off the paper you won't have anything.”

“I'll have my integrity,” she replied, and Matt knew that there was going to be no arguing with her.

Yet, on the march to Cindy's office Millie felt a sense of trepidation. However, she brushed it away knowing that if she was going to get anywhere in the world she would have to stand up for herself and go after the things that she wanted, lest everyone treat her like a doormat. She hoped that Cindy would respond to her show of strength, and appreciate the fact that she wanted to be better. Still, this was Cindy and there was no telling how she would react.

“Ah, Millie, I was actually going to send for you,” Cindy said, and this threw Millie out of rhythm. Millie did have an entire speech planned, but now that she had been thrown from the script she felt flustered and wasn't able to regain her composure.

“I know that you've been clamoring for something else to write other than match reports and I think I might have something for you, if you're still interested?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean, yes, of course I am,” Millie said, sliding into the seat opposite Cindy. Millie felt relieved that finally she was getting what she wanted, although the meeting had an anti-climactic air to it as well since she had built up a big confrontation in her mind, and now it seemed that an argument was not going to be necessary.

“I've really enjoyed the extra features you've been doing where you delve into the tactics, and I know the readers have as well. I want to expand the sports section and I want to give you a bit of freedom about it as well. I want you to ultimately feel free to write about anything you feel is interesting, but there's one thing in particular I want you to focus on.”

Millie felt her spirits fall, and she blew out her cheeks as Cindy was speaking.

“Is there something wrong?” Cindy asked, a sharp edge to her voice. Millie looked at her and was about to shake her head and avoid confrontation again, but she remembered how she had spoken to Matt with such determination, and how she imagined her life would have been if people looked at her the same way as they looked at Trey. He wouldn't have backed down from Cindy, and neither would she.

“Yes, there is. I've been working on the sports section all year but it's not what I want to do and you know it. I should be doing what Adrian is doing. I should be out there investigating the school and writing about things that really matter. I want to become a journalist. I want to get into a good school – no, scratch that. I want to get into the best school and in order to do that I'm going to have to show them samples of my writing. Game reports and tactical analysis just aren't going to cut it. I need something meatier, I need something more.”

“Or what? You'll walk away?”

“Maybe. I don't know. I just thought I'd ask. I had to ask. Maybe you'd actually like for me to achieve my dreams and help me. Why did you even put me on the sports section anyway? I've never understood it.”

“That's exactly why. I put you there because I knew that you didn't have an interest in football. I wanted a fresh perspective. I wanted to have someone in the crowd that would be able to give an unbiased opinion about the game and not get so caught up in their own prejudices. It's also going to help you, you know. It'll show that you're versatile, and that you're willing to work outside of your comfort zone. The schools you apply to will recognize that, and at least you'll stand out. You do understand that of all the applications they get most of them will be the same opinion pieces that you want to write. Open your mind a little bit. Just to let you know I do not hate you or have it in for you, I'm just trying to do something different with the paper, so if you could do as I asked then that would be great. Now, do you want to hear the assignment I have for you, or would you rather walk out that door and go start a blog that nobody will read?”

Her tone was calm but sharp, and Millie felt as though she had been put in her place.

“Go on then,” Millie said, hating the fact that what Cindy said had sounded like it made sense. She expected some other fluff piece, or maybe even an assignment to cover one of the other sports teams, although she didn't think that was likely since the other teams were nowhere near as successful as the football team, because none of them had Trey.

“We both know that the only reason the team is doing so well is because of Trey Fournier. I want you to interview him, to get into his psyche and give us the man behind the quarterback. I want it to be in depth and personal. I want you to ask the hard questions. Do you think you can do that?”

“Sure, I mean, I guess, but doesn't everyone already know about him?”

“Think about it, what do we really know about him? That he transferred schools, that he's a great football player, and that he's popular. That's pretty much it. That's all anyone wants to know. But you can find out more. I want to know about his childhood, about his transfer, why he chose to come here, whether he wants to make a career out of football, heck find out his favorite ice cream flavor too while you're at it. Get me the scoop, give me a good interview, something that will make everyone in the county want to read this paper, and I promise you that I will give you the freedom to write anything you want.”

She spoke with such relish that Millie was a little scared. It was clear that Cindy had plans for the paper that went beyond simply putting it together every week, and the promise of freedom was alluring to Millie, as was the chance to interview Trey.

“Sure, I'll do it,” she said.

“Good. I had a feeling you would, which is why I told him to stop by your place later tonight. I've got a list of questions that I think you should ask, but if you pick up on anything that's particularly interesting then take the initiative and follow it through. But most of all make it interesting, make it controversial if you have to, just give me something that will get people talking,” she said.

Millie nodded, although she wondered if she was the right person for the job. But she had already accepted it and it was too late now. Finally, after all this time, she was going to be face to face with Trey Fournier.

And he was going to be in her bedroom.

5

She'd never had a boy in her room before, apart from Matt, but he didn't really count. She tidied up and set up an area by her desk where they could sit to have an air of professionalism.  She'd looked through the questions that Cindy had provided and crossed off some that she thought were inappropriate, but she had also done some research as well, and a quick Google search had turned up some surprising results. It seemed that there had been some sort of incident at Trey's former school around the time that he transferred to Angel High, although there wasn't much else to go on.

When her mother called up to check that she was ready because Trey had arrived, Millie went into panic mode. She almost knocked over the jug of orange juice that rested on the desk, and she opened her closet to smooth out her dress in front of the mirror, just to make sure that everything was perfect for her first interview. Trey knocked lightly on the door and walked through. She'd seen him around school of course, but he seemed larger than life now that he was standing in her bedroom.

He was impossibly handsome and had deep blue eyes, which Millie found difficult to look away from. His voice was smooth like caramel and he smelled so good that Millie became intoxicated as his scent filled the room. She walked to the window and opened it a little, trying to compose herself.

“Do you mind if I help myself?” Trey asked. She turned, wondering what he meant, only to see him gesturing to the jug of juice.

“No, go ahead. I just want you to know that this is my first interview, so if I mess up I apologize, oh, and thank you for agreeing to do this.”

“No problem, and hey, who doesn't like talking about themselves, right?” Millie took a seat beside her desk while he perched himself on the edge of her bed. She had expected him to sit on a chair, but he was so intimidating that she didn't dare ask him to move. “Okay, so I have these questions and we'll just go through them and see what happens, okay?”