reporters tend to get caught up with the dinner and forget details like what place they came in, or who made the all-county team.”
“Pretty major.” “No kidding. So, yeah, you should go. The boys’ banquet is the next night, and I’ll be going to that.” “Cool. You know I’ll have more questions, don’t you?” “Anytime. I’m glad to help.” As I scooted back to my station, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he continued to watch me. I pretended not to notice and made a mental note to try to get answers from other people, even if I had to ask Mrs. Gibson, because I didn’t want to give him false hope. I pulled out my assignment book. In the Thursday square under Journalism I wrote, “Go to Gym Today. Sign up for Girls Banquet.” I’d probably go to the P.E. office right after school.
Mrs. Gibson began her daily patrol, so I jammed my assignment book in my backpack and clicked open the girls’ sports folder. The varsity and junior varsity wrap-ups for four sports—cheerleading, volleyball, cross-country, and soccer— were complete. The junior varsity golf article was finished, but the varsity article was on hold because the team had to make up a match against Tupper Lake on Saturday. Joey Pitone, the golf reporter, promised to get the article in the folder on Monday. I had plenty of articles to read over the weekend, so I told him that Monday would be soon enough. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to get all mean and bossy if his article was late.
Mrs. Gibson hovered behind me. “Devon, are the editor passwords working?”
“Yes, thank you. I only need two more articles. Varsity golf and varsity field hockey.”
“Oh, field hockey,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “That team is never done by the deadline. I assume they made the playoffs again?”
“Yes, the playoffs start next week.” The field hockey team probably had as many trophies down in the gym as Mrs. Gibson had journalism trophies in her classroom. Mrs. Gibson even had trophies dating as far back as 1980.
“Well, if they’re not done by press time you’ll have to finish the article with an editor’s note.”
I felt powerful all of a sudden. “What should it say?”
“Oh, something along the lines of ‘The field hockey team had not completed its season by press time.’”
I hoped the team’s season would be done, though, not that I wanted them to lose in the playoffs or anything, but I wanted my first issue to be complete.
“Oh, and Melissa Cox said you caught on rather quickly.”
I nodded. “She showed me everything. I didn’t realize how much an editor did.”
“A lot of hard work goes into putting out a newspaper, Devon. It’s not all glamour and glitz.”
Glamour and glitz? I held back a smile. “I’m learning that.”
I turned back to my computer, and Mrs. Gibson continued her patrolling.
I had only been editor for two days, but I wanted my first issue as sports editor to be perfect. I guess I caught that disease from Missy. When she was editor, she always stayed up late working on the computer in our room. I used to complain about it, but eventually I just turned toward the wall and put a pillow over my head, so I could sleep. Now it would be me at the computer late at night.
In our session on Wednesday afternoon, Melissa suggested I highlight the girls’ basketball team for the winter sports preview because they were supposed to go all the way to the state tournament. Of course, thinking about the basketball team made me think about Rebecca which, unfortunately, made me think about how stupidly jealous I had gotten over Jessie on Monday. They were probably friends like me and Gail. No big deal, right? I had to be careful because I didn’t want to scare Rebecca off by being frosty to her friends, even though Jessie, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to like me very much. I think Rebecca liked me though. Maybe not in that way, but at least she smiled at me and asked me if I was okay.