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My phone alarm blared in my ear, jolting me awake.
I grunted, rolled over, and tapped on the ‘dismiss’ icon before closing my eyes and burrowing under the blankets. I’d stayed up until three in the morning to get an assignment finished, and six hours of sleep simply wasn’t enough. I had no idea how other students managed to get by after pulling full all-nighters.
When I remembered it was Friday, I sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake. “Shit!”
I was supposed to interview Paxton for the Observer today. I was meant to head over to the arena at lunchtime to meet with him.
I’d planned to bunk off and work on one of my essays instead, but I still needed to sort that out and hope everyone at the office bought my excuse. I was fairly certain they would, because I’d worked tirelessly at the paper over the last few weeks, but I wouldn’t know for sure until the call was made.
I took a deep breath, grabbed my phone, and dialed Karyn’s number.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, Sienna. What’s up?”
“Hi, Karyn.” I crossed my fingers and affected a low, pained voice. “I’m so sorry to do this, but I woke up with a horrible headache, and I have the Paxton Cole interview at twelve. Do you think you or someone else could cover it for me this time? I know you’re super busy with your own stuff, but it shouldn’t take more than half an hour. And I’ll buy you coffee for a whole week to make up for it.”
“Oh my god, are you freaking kidding me?”
I winced. “I know, it’s such horrible timing. I’m sorry. I just—”
She cut me off. “No, no! I’m not mad at you. I’m thrilled!”
“You are?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Paxton Cole is literally the hottest dude on campus,” she said. “Sorry about the headache, by the way. My mom gets really bad migraines, so I know how much it sucks.”
“So… you’ll do the interview for me?”
“Of course! I have an assignment due this morning, but it’s nearly finished, so I’ll get that in and head to the arena. The question list is at the office, right?”
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Yes, on my desk. Thanks a million.”
“No, thank you. My friends are going to be so jealous of me when they hear about this.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Don’t tell Lucy I said that, by the way. We’re not supposed to gush over our interview subjects. It’s not professional.”
I laughed softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”
I spent the next hour getting ready for the day and going over the past week’s class readings. A little after ten, my phone rang. It was Karyn.
“Hi,” I said, affecting my sore, sickly tone again. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Sienna. Something’s happened with the formatting on my ethics paper, and the references are totally messed up. I only have a few more hours to submit it, so I really need to fix it now. I don’t know how long it’ll take, so that means I probably won’t be able to do the interview at twelve.”
My shoulders sagged. I was actually starting to get a real headache now. “That really sucks about the referencing. Is anyone else available?”
“No, I texted everyone and they’re all busy too. So… I’m really sorry, but you’ll have to rally and do the interview,” Karyn said. “If you stop by the office first and look in my top drawer, you’ll find some painkillers. I take them for cramps, but they should help with headaches too.”
I gulped. “Any chance we can reschedule the interview?”
“Nope, I already called and asked about that. Apparently this is the only open slot in Paxton’s schedule all week, and we really need the interview for the upcoming edition.”
Dammit. I sighed glumly. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Hope it goes okay. And remember—top drawer!”
I ended the call and slumped back on my bed with a groan. The last thing I ever wanted to do was be in the same room as Paxton, let alone do an interview with him. But now I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t skip it, because I wanted to do well at the Observer, and it would reflect poorly on me to cancel one of my assignments at the last minute. One of the other interns had already been fired for failing to get his work in on time.
Also, if I was ever going to be a real journalist someday, I needed to start getting used to being out of my comfort zone. One of my favorite reporters had stood out on the street interviewing Taliban fighters during the fall of Kabul, and she hadn’t even broken a sweat. I needed to start cultivating that sort of personality for myself—gutsy and strong on the outside, even if I felt weak and terrified on the inside.
Besides, Paxton couldn’t do anything to hurt me at the arena. The place was always packed with people, and there was no way he’d sabotage his current lifestyle and reputation by attacking me right in the middle of an interview.
