I could have sworn I had stepped into some sort of twilight zone, when the door to the newsroom shut behind me. Hardly anyone noticed me, and for once, it wasn’t because they were under some sort of pretense to avoid being given work. For once, the newsroom was bustling without me having to yell first.

All around, the sound of clacking keys as fingers pecked at keyboards, the hum of the printer spewing out inked paper, and light chatter occupied too many senses, and overshadowed my presence.

My jaw fell slack as I watched the editorial team be the most productive they’ve ever been. Even without Mr. Dimas’ supervision.

Marie was the first to acknowledge me with a nod and a tip of her coffee mug after she stacked a set of papers. She slid over to me, narrowly avoiding a spill as she dodged the freshman we had recruited a month earlier.

“Wasn’t expecting you this soon, Parker,” she said as she hugged me quickly.

“That makes two of us,” I told her. “I wasn’t expecting to meet any of this.”

I turned to look around and take it all in a second time. It was perfect timing, honestly, because that was when I saw Micky walk in.

Him being in the newsroom was weird as it is, but seeing him saunter into my territory so casually, his wet hair dripping water over his face and onto the floor, with a towel in one hand, and a binder tucked under his armpit, was too much to absorb all at once.

But no one else seemed to think that. They didn’t even bat an eyelid.

“Am I the only one who saw... that?” I asked, eyes darting between Marie, who sipped her coffee and couldn’t care less about my shock, and Micky, who was now making himself comfortable. At my desk.

“We’ve tried to get him to stop, but he always turns up like this. You get used to it. Hopefully.” She made a face and gestured helplessly at Micky.

“Okay, that still makes no sense, but I’ll pretend it does.” I brushed my hair out of my face, so Marie could see the very displeased expression I had. “But why is he sitting in my chair and touching my stuff?”

“He’s been part of the team for a while now.”

“Really? And none of you thought to tell me?” It sounded more demanding than I intended, but I couldn’t think of any reason they’d make such a decision without informing me. Especially seeing as we didn’t need another hand on board. “Come to think of it, I could have worked from home; you could have sent emails or something.”

“We heard you were out of school because you needed rest. Wasn’t gonna take that away from you, Parker.”

“Micky expressed interest, and we got him on the team, because we could use a helping hand while you weren’t around.” Marie’s tone meant she would not argue over it, so I accepted defeat. If Micky’s presence had led to this 8th wonder—everyone doing what they’re supposed to do—I couldn’t really complain.

I sighed, shifting my weight on one crutch so the strain at my armpits lessened. My hair fell over my face, and I tried not to get frustrated over having to brush it back again. “I’m here now. What’s new?”

“We’ve got it covered.”

“Is there nothing else? You’ve reported everything there is to report?”

Marie sucked in a breath, cheeks inflating when she let it out. “Well, there’s that swim meet over at West Dale High. But we couldn’t possibly ask you to go over there with the state you’re in.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Parker, you can’t--“

“I feel useless right now, okay? Like you’ve been better off without me, with how good things are running.” I didn’t need to point out that for once, Rachel didn’t have her face glued to her phone. Jamal wasn’t eating, nor using the newspapers he was supposed to archive as a coaster. The change was too jarring. “Don’t take this away from me.”

Setting down the mug, Marie gave me a sympathetic smile. Her hands went up to her dark, curly hair, and she took out the hair clips that held it up. “It’s at 4:30. At their pool. Runs until 7pm but all we really need are the qualifiers for our league.” As she spoke, she pinned up my hair with the clips. “Looks like it was bothering you.”

“Thanks. I owe you tons of these clips already.”

“You can keep ‘em.” Her smile diminished. “Although, I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go alone. You can barely stand.”

Before I could protest, another voice took up the role.

“I’ll go with them!” Micky piped up, slinging the towel over his shoulder. He hopped off my desk, sauntering over to us, and wrapped a hand around my shoulder. “Don’t worry, no harm shall come to our little superstar with me around.”

Seeing as Marie looked pleased with the offer, I took it.

“Ugh, okay. I’ll be waiting at the main gate after school. Don’t be late.”

“Sweet. No promises, though.”

Micky stretched the ‘late’ in fashionably late as far as it could go. By the time he pulled up, I was sweating and trying my hardest not to topple over.

He gave me a bright smile and winked. “Hey, best friend!”

“Since when were we best friends?”

“You wanna be professional and stick to co-worker, then? Fine by me.” He rolled his eyes as he opened the door to the passenger’s side. “Get in, co-worker. We’re going journaling.”

I was too drained to reply, so I just got in the car. Micky had the sun visor down and raked his fingers through the messy strands of his hair.

“What’s up with you joining the school paper?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“What’s up with you and Gonzalez?” He threw the question at me with such ease, as if he’d been rehearsing it, waiting for me to trigger that response. A question of an answer.

I murmured, “What?” too stunned to say anything else. How did he know? Unless... the door slamming hadn’t at all been my imagination. It had really happened, and Micky was the culprit.

As if I wasn't horrified enough at the implication that he’d walked in on me and Adrián, he made the situation even more real by adding, “I saw you two kissing. Do you have, like, a thing?”

Blood rushed to my face, no doubt leaving a very telling sign of my embarrassment. “That’s none of your business.”

“And me joining the Northwood Journal is none of yours either, Parker.” He passed me a smile. Cool, effortless, expected. Rehearsed.

“I’m the Editor-in-Chief. It kind of is.”

Micky rolled his eyes, the suave smile still unfazed by my frown. “Like it makes a difference to me.”

“If you really wanna know why I signed up for the Journal, I’ll tell you. Coach told me to. Well, he didn’t specifically mention the paper, but he said I needed to involve myself with an academic extracurricular. Swimming has already given me a boost, but the paper would help a great deal. For college apps.”  While he spoke, he ran his fingers through his hair, patting some parts down, while trying to get other clumps to stand on end.

“You should use swim caps. You can’t walk around with wet hair every morning.”

“Rather have them wet than terrible. Those crappy things make my hair look like shit.” His hair looked like shit right now.

“So you’d rather dip your hair in chemicals?”

He nodded. “Yup.”

“Figures,” I said, eyeing the fluffy locks. “Your roots are showing. You should try to use the dye more evenly.”

Micky gave me a sidelong glance. “I’m a natural blond, Parker.”

“Not from what I can see.” I smiled, eyebrows rising almost as high as Micky's dark brown hairs were.

“You don’t have your lame ass glasses on. You don’t know what you can see.”

Well, that was rude. I frowned, turning away from him.

He mumbled, “Sorry,” and added, “By the way, that’s how I know you were locking lips with Adrian.”

“Through... college applications?”

“Of course not. I went to do laps in the pool super early, so I’d have time for the paper too. Saw you two in the locker room on my way back from the session.”

“Ah, I see.” Still, I kept my gaze away from him, staring outside the window.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he added, “I’m not gonna tell anyone about it. I figured if you two are together, which isn’t any of my business, you’d let everyone know when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

We exchanged no more words until he parked at West Dale High. Students littered the parking lot and front of the school, all as dreary as the building behind them. West Dale High School was eerily similar to Northwood High. They had the same building plan, but whereas Northwood had seen several face-lifts in past years, West Dale could only brag about seeing better days.

Still, that didn’t stop the students from staring down outsiders like they were beneath them. The couple poised next to the bike racks, lighting up cigarettes and blowing smoke at Micky and I, with the vilest expressions, proved that very well.

“So, what are we doing, boss?”

“We watch the competition, keep track of the scores, and try to get some of the West Dale competitors to speak to us so we get quotes. That’s it.”

“Sounds doable.”

“Trust me, getting those West Dale jerks to speak to you is harder than you think.”

Micky laughed at that, stretching till I heard the bones in his neck pop. “We’ll see about that.”

~

Sorry for the delayed update. I lost track of what day it was😅
I hope you enjoyed this part.

Don't forget to turn that star bright orange ☆