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Jack’s eyes haven’t left my face this whole time. I’m not sure what he sees now, but he reaches out and strokes my cheek. His hand is warm against my chilled skin. I close my eyes and lean into his touch, not thinking of anything except how good this feels.

I miss you so much .

The words are so faint, I’m not sure if he said them, or if I hope he did. When I open my eyes, his gaze is dark and intense. He drops his hand. We shake off whatever spell our physical connection created.

And I walk away from him. It’s wrenching, but maybe it’s better not to have all this emotional upset before a meeting with a prof.

I’m the first person in the small meeting room Professor Pullman booked.

I sit down at the table and take some deep breaths to calm down.

The next person to arrive is Jaz Nelson, the Messenger’ s deputy editor-in-chief.

I respect her, but I’m not really sure how she feels about me.

She’s even more by-the-book than I am, and complained about the autonomy of the sports section.

She wanted the hockey stories to be proofread before publication.

Once I explained that sports stories had to be posted ASAP for the readers and that no proofreaders were volunteering to work late Friday and Saturday nights, she backed off.

Hey, Jaz. Do you know what this meeting is about? I ask.

I have a good idea. But I’m not sure what Professor Pullman’s agenda is. Then Bryce walks in, and she stops talking. He has that effect on people.

Bryce is surprised to see me, but he quickly recovers and pastes on his usual smirk. Andy. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.

Nothing I’d like more. I would happily yeet him off the planet.

He sits across from me, unfortunately, since I have to look at him.

Did I hear that you’ve cut your personal ties to the hockey team? It’s too bad you didn’t do that sooner. He’s fishing, since nobody still at the newspaper knows any details of my personal life.

Not your business. I refuse to give Bryce anything, so I assume the expression of a woman satisfied by her hot boyfriend last night. Take that, you pompous idiot.

Professor Pullman walks in. Ah, excellent.

We’re all here. He puts down a large file folder and assumes his place at the head of the table.

He’s a middle-aged man who teaches ancient European history.

He rarely visits the Messenger office, so I suspect it’s an assignment he took on with the hope he wouldn’t have to do anything.

Unfortunately, between Travis’s dismissal and then mine, he’s had his hands full this term.

All right, let’s get started. We’re here to settle a possible breach of newspaper policy. He rummages through the file folder and extracts a stapled sheaf of papers.

It has been brought to my attention that the Messenger has received a substantial number of complaints regarding the recent dismissal of the sports editor.

He turns to me. Have you seen these, Ms. Robson?

I stare at the fat pile of papers in his hand. I have not.

He passes me the documents and I begin reading. It’s a collection of letters to the editor, each one protesting my departure. I can tell by the flowery prose that the first one is from Mehmet.

Andy Robson is a towering inspiration for myself.

For the very first time since I arrived in this new country, I am fully a part of the Monarch community, one who can generously give as much as he takes.

She enabled me to share my passion for wrestling with the entire student body.

And, as an editor, she has aided me in improving my written English in a practical way, which enhances my lessons in the classroom.

I flip to the next letter. It’s moronic to get rid of the best fucking sports editor the Messenger has ever had. Easy to guess what grouch wrote that, although I worry about how much spellchecking went into that brief submission.

My former deputy C.J. wrote, I don’t think that ‘inclusion’ is a word that is often used to describe a school newspaper.

Too often, we cater to the best students from the humanities, people who already edited their high school newspapers or who write for online resources.

Andy worked hard to discover people who have a real passion for sports but need help reporting.

After her unjust departure, it became clear how much extra editorial work she had been doing.

Some notes are from readers who don’t even know me:

The sports section was never better. People other than the hockey team could see themselves here, but not anymore.

What happened to the hockey analytics? Now we’re back to the basic game coverage we had last season, and it sucks.

Are we back to ignoring women’s sports again? Sexism at its finest.

I leaf through the other letters without fully taking them in. All this support for the work I’ve done—no, the work my whole team did. It’s incredible.

Oh, wow. It’s all I manage to say, since I’m so touched that I’m nearly speechless. Needless to say, editors seldom receive praise—if our work is done properly, the whole point is that readers would never know.

Professor Pullman noisily clears his throat, so I put down the letters and give him my full attention.

As a rule, I don’t interfere in the running of the newspaper unless something significant is brought to my attention.

And in this case, I was informed that a large number of complaints—roughly fifty letters to the editor protesting the recent changes in sports coverage—have been ignored completely.

That is strictly against the mission of the newspaper as a conduit of student information and opinion.

I sneak a look at Jaz, who must have been the one who gathered up the letters and made the case to the faculty advisor. She’s wearing her poker face.

It is within the purview of the editor-in-chief to determine whether letters should be published or answered, Bryce replies smoothly. I determined that most letters were written at the behest of certain hockey team members, which makes the whole campaign a sham.

Are hockey team members not a part of the student community? Professor Pullman asks, one brow raised.

An extremely entitled subsection, yes, Bryce admits. In fact, I was visited by two members of the team after the dismissal of the sports editor. They threatened me, but I did not budge. I understand your concern, Professor, but I can assure you that there was a valid reason for Andy’s dismissal.

The professor tilts his head. Indeed. What was it?

Bryce squares his shoulders confidently. She was, or is, in a relationship with a varsity hockey player. Which constitutes a conflict of interest. I believe Andy herself would admit that.

Wow, he’s really relying on my personal integrity here.

Professor Pullman turns to me. What are your thoughts on the matter, Ms. Robson?

I take a deep breath and channel my inner high school debate champion.

I have three things to say. First, I was supposed to be the opinions editor but was reassigned to sports editor, without consultation, in what I believe was an attempt by the editor-in-chief to make me quit the newspaper.

Second, while it was challenging, I discovered that sports reporting turned out to be an opportunity to do things in a new way.

I motion towards the stack of letters. A way that a lot of people seem to appreciate.

And third, while I admit that my personal ties to the hockey team might affect my impartiality in the case of a serious issue, a less vindictive leader could have figured out a different solution to the issue.

Such as? Professor Pullman asks.

Well, if there was a major story, I could pass it on to the general news department and recuse myself. News reporters are better equipped to cover controversy anyway. I’ve had enough time to figure out easy solutions that any reasonable manager could have come up with.

And why do you imagine that Mr. Myrtle holds vindictive feelings towards you?

We once dated. Recently, he admitted that he was offended by my refusal to get back together. He used the words ‘petty and resentful’ to describe his own actions.

Bryce winces. The only time all semester he’s been emotionally honest and it’s coming back to bite him in the butt.

The professor shakes his head and mutters something about hormones. Far too much of this matter seems to pertain to Ms. Robson’s personal life.

I disagree, sir, says Jaz. None of this would have been personal except the EIC has made it so.

Andy shouldn’t have been made sports editor without expertise in that area.

However, once she made a success of the appointment, there was no reason to dismiss her unless she did something wrong—which she did not.

Which is only what I’ve been saying all along! I’m the new president of the Jaz Nelson Fan Club.

The professor puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. So, the issue we had last month with the controversial op-ed piece would not have occurred if Ms. Robson had been granted her original position?

I asked her to resume the role of opinions editor for the good of the Messenger , but she refused, Bryce says. He’s getting nervous. The blinking is his tell.

Professor Pullman huffs. Mr. Myrtle, it seems to me that if you had not interfered in the editorial staffing, twice, and in both instances without solid rationale, I wouldn’t have had to intervene in any newspaper issues. And at a time when I’m trying to wrap up the final edits on my upcoming book.

This is the biggest crime for our hands-off faculty advisor: wasting his time. He’s like a parent who says, Kids, don’t bother me unless there’s blood. He gazes off into the distance as we await his Solomonic wisdom.

Fine. After consideration of the issues, here is my decision. He turns to Bryce. You are relieved of your duties as editor-in-chief, effective immediately. Thank you for your service to the Messenger .