Page 1 of The Game We Played

Chapter 1

Alaia – a woman finding it hard to be taken seriously at Mermaid Karaoke

Alaia

“No.”

“But I have this great story idea I want to discuss with you. It’s about—”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

Mike, the editor-in-chief of theSmuggler’s Gazette,sighs. “Because I’ve heard all of your story ideas. No one on Smuggler’s Hideaway cares about the sea-level rising or rapid erosion or tidal flooding.”

“Increased tidal flooding,” I correct.

He grunts. “No one cares.”

“Because they don’t understand the issues. If they understood how the flooding and stronger storms are causing damage to infrastructure and property, they’ll care.”

Mike yawns. “I’m bored.”

I growl. “Not funny. I can write an interestingpiece.”

“Your writing is comedic, which is great for pieces about sheep causing traffic jams or Plank the parrot needing to be rehomed.”

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “I don’t want to write fluffy, funny articles anymore. I want to be a serious journalist.”

“Not going to happen on Smuggler’s Hideaway.”

Which is why I want to leave the island. But I can’t leave without a job offer. And I can’t get a job offer without a portfolio of serious journalistic pieces. And apparently blogging doesn’t count. Especially when you have under one hundred followers.

“Please, Mike.”

“I’m sorry, Alaia, but it is what it is. People read theSmuggler’s Gazetteto learn the gossip on the island, have a laugh, and find a new recipe for clam chowder. It’s hard enough to keep a newspaper going in this day and age. Serious pieces about environmental issues will not help.”

“I disagree.”

“I didn’t want to tell you this way,” he pauses and my heart begins to race. Is this the moment he tells me I’m not good enough for serious journalism? “But we’re considering closing down theGazette.”

“What?” I screech. “You can’t.”

TheSmuggler’s Gazetteis my only chance to build a portfolio. If it’s gone, my dream of becoming a journalist will never come true.

“Sorry, Alaia. But if things don’t change before the end of the summer, theGazettewill be gone.”

“What if—”

“I’ve got to go.” He hangs up before I have a chance to argue.

I drop my phone on the desk. I’m never going to be taken seriously and get off this island. I’ll be stuck here bartending atBootleggerduringMermaid Karaokefor the rest of my life. Talk about boring.

Unless I let my dad help. Nope. No way. The great Dan Jackson will not be the reason I succeed. I’m doing this on my own. I’m not letting Dad control my life and my decisions. He’s done enough already.

“Alaia!” Julian, my fellow bartender, barges into the office. “We need you out there. It’s crazy busy.”

I push to my feet. “It always is duringMermaid Karaokeseason.”