“What’s average?”
“I don’t have that figure at the ready.”His phone rings.“I’m sorry.I have to take this.I hope you have what you need.”
I’m dismissed, and I’m still not sure how to figure out who is taking bribes.
As I leave the building, I call the number for Demoraux, the corrupt inspector.I finally tracked it down.I wanted to call him after the interviews so the deputy commissioners didn’t have any cause to cancel them.He picks up after the first ring.
“Is this Demoraux?”I ask.
“Might be.Who is this?”
“Hi.This is Maddie Hughes ofThe Intelligencer.You’ve been fining a lot of bars in the East Village lately.Is this part of a new enforcement effort?”
Click.He hangs up.I guess he wants to do this the hard way.But Iwillspeak to him.
It’s off to the panel at my middle school now.
My middle school’s auditorium hasn’t changed.I remember walking on this stage to receive an award for starting our first newspaper and how proud I felt.
And not only is Nick in the first row in the audience, along with all my girlfriends with their boyfriends, but Nick persuaded the band and Luca to show up as well.An army of supporters has filled the room.
The mean girls who tormented me don’t seem to be here.
The panel starts off great.Twyla Jackson, whose career I’ve been following since I first became interested in journalism, immediately sets both the moderator—the twelve-year-old chief editor of the school newspaper—and me at ease.Twyla and I have an instant rapport, and we play off each other’s strengths.
The whole talk lasts about forty-five minutes, and then we take questions from the audience.
“What’s your advice to aspiring journalists?”the moderator asks as her last question of the evening.
After Twyla gives her answer—to remember to be skeptical and to reflect the diversity of America in your stories—I say, “It’s hard to narrow down my advice.First, talk to people and try to make as many friends as you can in all walks of life, because that can give you a lot of different perspectives and expand your horizons.It gives you practice in getting people to open up.You also never know when this connection might come in useful.I was covering a bill at City Hall last year, and the city council member had left for the night, so we thought the bill was dead.But at 6:05 a.m., one of my friends in the neighborhood called me—he runs the coffee truck outside City Hall—and he let me know that the city council member’s car had arrived at 6:00, along with the mayor’s car.I was the first reporter on the scene and found out that they’d renegotiated some points, so it was going to be passed.That was a great scoop for me and our paper.The Intelligencerran the story that the bill was being passed while the other papers were reporting it as dead.And my other tips are don’t put your phone on silent, and don’t expect to get much sleep.”I wink at Nick as I say this, and he smiles at me.
The moderator thanks us for a great discussion.I’m glad I did this.
Nick stands up to clap, and he looks so proud of me that I almost tear up.Twyla and I chat for a few minutes as we remove our microphones.
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she says.“Feel free to reach out for lunch or a late breakfast if you ever want to commiserate about lack of sleep.I can’t have dinner out because I get up at four o’clock for the morning show.”
I can’t imagine how she gets up that early in the morning every day and then goes on live TV.It’s impressive.
“I’d be honored to meet up.”I gesture to Jing to come over, and I introduce Twyla to her.The three of us chat a bit more about being a journalist, and then Twyla has to leave.
As I venture out into the seating area, I’m soon surrounded by my friends.There’s definitely a heady feeling being surrounded by Nick and Luca—two tall, attractive guys—and my girlfriends.I feel so protected.
“Way to knock ’em dead, Maddie,” Nick says, patting me on the back.
And then I see her.The one who started the bullying.The one who first decided that I should spend middle school as an outcast.My body flushes cold.I look away.She circles around us, staring at both Luca and Nick in a calculating way.I owe her nothing, so I turn back to my conversation with Jing.Good luck breaking into this circle.
But I underestimated her gall, just as I often did in middle school.
She taps me on the arm.“Maddie, I’m so glad to see you succeeded at your dream of being a reporter.We all knew Maddie would be a success.”And she scoops her arm through mine, her nails digging into my skin.
I freeze.She’s actually touching me.
My mind goes blank.
I stare at Nick.A quizzical expression crosses his face.His brow furrows.But it’s his eyes, full of concern and support, that bring me back to myself.
I jerk my arm away from her.
