Wednesday, September 28, 2016
#3 The Journalist
Sail didn’t know the reason she ended up going to the Environmental Forum. Maybe it was because she was so intrigued by the green gilded envelope that slid under her apartment door at 5 that morning. Perhaps it was the gusts of freezing winter wind that seemed to push her all the way to Poultry Lane. Or maybe she ended up at the Bar instead of Brookline because she was supposed to go to a Primrose meeting after school and she needed an excuse to skip.
Either way, something had beckoned her there, and she was feeling reckless.
Upon entry into the Bar, Sail realized how little the town cared about the environment. The stage that usually held up and coming indie groups now had a meager collection of pamphlets on the environment. In the corner, a dusty washing machine sat. There wasn't even a presenter on stage.
Disappointment sat in Sail’s chest. Her escapade couldn’t even manage to be interesting.
Nevertheless, she found a seat -not like there was a lack of seats- next to two men. One of them was vigorously scribbling in a black notepad, while the younger one was reaching down and petting the dog at his feet. When Sail sat down, the younger guy turned and smiled at her.
“Thank God!” he jokingly began, “I thought I was the only one in this town who enjoyed a good environmental forum.”
Taken aback by his sarcasm, Sail just laughed a little and leaned down to pet the dog.
“This is Tug,” He gestured to the man next to him who was still furiously writing, “and that’s Paul Paul. We’re from the paper.”
“Oh,” Sail exclaimed, “So that’s why you’re here. To cover this incredibly interesting story.” He coyly shrugged.
Then, Sail didn’t know why she ended up doing the next thing either. Maybe it was the way he reached over to shake her hand and said, “The name’s Noel.” Or, maybe, it was the warm, secure sense she got from being looked at by his amber-tinged eyes. Perhaps it was mixed with her new-found disregard for her obligations at school, and her eagerness to get back at Caroline.
Whichever one it was, Sail found herself grinning back at Noel and saying, “What if I told you I had a really good story for you to write?”