Page 78 of Chasing Headlines
“Bring me a pitch and maybe I'll reconsider next semester once the season starts.”
I nodded and offered her a smile. I wanted to leave, but I wasn't going anywhere until I found out everything Rivers knew.
“I'll call Dotty after this, but get on it right away. I need your mostly-final draft by that third week in November. We go topress whatever that Friday is. And I have another assignment for you.”
“Oh. Yes, that would really great. Another assignment, definitely. And a great time to do it.” I kept the grin plastered on my face.
This was the absolute worst time to take on another assignment. The baseball exhibition game was the one bit of excitement we had in the entirety of Vanquer and its surrounding area (no one counted football if they had any taste). And now I had to make sure none of my players were on that stupid hacker's list.
Reyes was heading for the door. Crap!
I waved at Mrs. P, grabbed my bag and hustled after him. Class had ended, but I needed to catch cyber dude with the hacking 'Source' of potential doom.
I caught up with Rivers in the hallway. He walked with his laptop balanced on one forearm—and typing with one hand. Seriously?
“Hey, wait up.”
He slowed but didn't turn around. I sped up to fall into step beside him.
“What do you want, shirtless wonder?”
“Wow, nice greeting.” I rolled my eyes. “And here I was thinking I could help you with your hacker story.”
“I don't need help. I'm arealjournalist.” He scoffed.
“Well, you did ask for some resources. And while I'm sure Mrs. P will get them for you, it's not like the IT department always sees the same, you know, urgency thatreal journalistsdo.” I let out a yawn. Man, two o'clock had become kryptonite for my energy levels. “Guess I'll need some coffee. Anyway, youreally want to take a chance onthe college helpdeskwhen the difference of a few hours could make or break your story?”
“What do you care?” He paused and turned my direction as he typed.
“You're right, I'll be forever in your journalistic shadow. But it's just that my roommate came in third in the Defcon CTF last year. And when she gets bored, she blathers on about bits and bytes until I really just can't?—”
He fixed me with a stark, bored stare. But he'd stopped typing. “What do you want?”
“In exchange? Oh, I dunno. How about you could just owe me one?”
He made a wry-looking face. It wasn't much different than his usual expression. His lips just kinda puffed out a bit more. Reminded me of a catfish. “Yeah, sure.”
“The next time I get a septuagenarian to interview, I'll be calling you.”
“I dunno, Liv. Maybe you could get her to take her shirt off.” He rolled his eyes and puffed out a laugh.
Oh, he had jokes. Yeah, no. I flipped him off.
“I'll text you when I get the list?” His mouth tilted like it might be trying to . . . smile?
“Sounds divine. Just make sure I get a teensy tinesy acknowledgement in your Pulitzer speech, would ya?”
“Yeah, bite me.”
I laughed and veered off toward the student center's non-stop coffee bar. “Or you could take off your shirt.” I called out over my shoulder.
I mentally shuddered at the thought. Rivers, shirtless? Bleh. Definitely not the kind of boy I wanted to see shirtless. Now Tanner? Tanner was a different story. Antonio? God, Hilda was being ridiculous.
Coop used to be near the top of my 'definitely shirtless' list. But after our last exchange, I wouldn't put him at thebottom. Just, not all that bothered about him, really. I hated that Dublin and Cathy were right. But it did leave me in a bit of a conundrum.
How on earth could I avoid the inhuman Storm Cooper and still do things like: win the baseball reporter beat, intern as a baseball scout for Schorr, make all my Insta highlight reels?
I groaned through the receiver at Hilda. The fans on screen broke out into their low-octave “Coop” cheer, that sounded like boo-ing. “He's up to bat, again. I can't watch. I can't look!”