News Flash (6 page)

I had always thought Bonnie and John were cute for older people. The fact that they wanted to keep their relationship a secret seemed a bit odd to me, but who could begrudge them that? It was their business, and I could see why they wouldn't want to share it with the whole state line area. Some things needed to stay private. At that thought I felt a pang of guilt because I had gone through those same files every time a new report needed to be put away. Besides Rory was waiting for me to say something, probably agreeing with him or witty, pithy remarks skewering the anchors.

Instead I shrugged. “I've seen the reports before; who do you think filed them?”

Rory goggled at me. “So you know…?”

The hesitation in his voice almost made me laugh. There were plenty of things to know about Bonnie and John. They both had their skeletons, and loads of people complained about the comments they made on air. But I knew the exact thing that had weirded Rory out about John. Honestly the first time I read it, I had been grossed out for a week. Then I got over it because the man was good at his job. That was my opening, and I took it.

“Please. I didn't peg you as such a prude, Rory. So what if John has certain,” I paused and splayed my fingers, “undergarment requirements. It doesn't affect the way he reads the news. He comes, does his job, and that's it. The other stuff with him and Bonnie? That's a different category altogether. Whatever, though. Irrelevant now, anyway. What's Esther planning on doing about it?”

Rory crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the counter. “She's going to try to sue them. Or blackmail them. Not really sure her total plan. Either way she wants them to stay, and Esther usually gets her way.”

“That's dumb,” I said. “Don't get me wrong. I think Esther's brilliant, and I obviously owe her a lot, but this is a real opportunity for the show to grow. She has the chance to get two new anchors that she hand picks. It could be anything she wants. Why keep Bonnie and John when they don't even want to be there?”

Whatever was in the pot seemed done, given the furious sound of bubbling liquid behind Rory. He seemed distracted by my comments as he turned to his dinner. After shutting the stove off, he grabbed a ladle, and heaped what looked like stew into a bowl.

“Do you want any?” he asked, as he microwaved a piece of cornbread.

I shook my head. “I ate at home, but thanks.”

He joined me at the island and dug into his food. There was never anything grosser to me than watching men eat. Even highly attractive men. Why did they all shovel it into their mouths like they were in a food eating contest? Nasty. I took the time to look around the apartment at a more leisurely pace. As I'd noted before the place stank of elegance. Knowing it was his grandmother's place helped, though, and didn't make me question what he was doing for income on the side.

True to the male form, Rory finished his dinner in under five minutes. He tossed his dishes in the sink, leaving a mess to clean up later. Part of me was flattered that he was in such a hurry to spend time with me, while the other part wondered what his grandma would think if she could see the state of things.

We sat on the couch, which was positioned in front of a big bank of windows that overlooked downtown. Though we weren't high enough to see the river, the view was still nice. Rory draped an arm over the back of the sofa, and I leaned into him. This felt exhilarating, if a bit wrong. The combination of the two feelings was heady and incredibly potent. When he kissed me, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of bad decisions. Without a life raft I had no choice but to cling to him, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss, pressing me into the sofa.

From somewhere in the apartment a grandfather clock chimed ten o'clock. Saved by the bell or the chime or whatever, I pulled away from Rory, still breathless. I smiled at him, and decided to ignore the churning feeling in my stomach.

“I've got to go. School tomorrow.” I expected the mention of my age to put a damper on the mood, but Rory just grinned.

“See you at the station then.”

He didn't see me to the door, and as I walked to the bus stop, I wondered why I felt so ashamed. It wasn't like I'd done anything wrong.

“Oh my goodness, people, this isn't hard. We. Need. To. Pick. A. Location. That is all.” Mary Beth Johnson glowered at the class, all traces of smiley, perky cheerleader gone. In her place was a Frankenstein of Prom Planning. Capital letters flashed in my head, as each of her eyebrows sank lower over her angry eyes.

I didn't dare glance at Jake. It was all I could do to keep a smirk off my face, and that would only serve to upset him more. We hadn't made up after our fight. That had been three days ago. I was pretty sure it was the longest we had ever gone without speaking. Even Brooke noticed, in all her fifteen-year-old cluelessness.

A girl whose name I still couldn't remember raised her hand, tentatively. She had big doe eyes, which only cemented the cliché of her personality. Mary Beth rounded on her instantly, strode over to her desk, and planted her hands firmly on the smooth, tan surface. She leaned down just a few inches from the poor girl's face, and in a creepily quiet voice, said, “If you don't have an idea for where to hold our prom, then don't speak.”

Mr. Carson sat at his desk, his hands folded over his protruding belly, watching the exchange without moving. I had to wonder about the guy. He was either the most hands-off teacher I had ever seen or he was scared of Mary Beth. I was leaning toward the latter. Maybe there was some movement in education that encouraged teachers to promote leadership above all other character attributes.

“You people are useless. We need to pick a prom theme. We need to pick a location. My first choice—the Metro Center—is booked for a stupid hockey game. It will be the end of May. Who cares about hockey then?” Mary Beth let out a frustrated sigh, and began her pacing of the room. There were scuff marks on the linoleum floor where she turned on heel to march back in the other direction. I thought that was pretty comical, and I'd have loved to point it out to Jake, but right when I turned toward him I remembered that he was mad at me.

“Look, we need something unique. I can't stress that enough. Think outside the box, people. Way outside.” I was sure this was supposed to be motivational. Man, that girl had a long way to go if she wanted to be in the spotlight.

A flash of brilliance hit me out of nowhere. I literally felt like I had been smacked upside the head. Before I had a chance to think about it, my hand shot up in the air, and Mary Beth stalked over to me. She already had her fill of me on the prom theme assignment, but instead of trying to intimidate me, she stopped a few feet from my desk with her hand on her hip.

“Yes, Allison? You have some marvelous idea to share with us? Maybe you'll suggest a prom theme of clowns, and say we can hold it in a circus tent. If you're only going to be a smart aleck about it, don't talk, okay?”

“No,” I said, surprising myself further by the friendly tone in my voice. “I actually have a real idea. Not for a theme, but for a location.”

“Okay. We're waiting.” She tapped her shiny black pump.

“Before you say no, I want you to really think about the possibilities. What about my grandparents' barn? They rent it out for weddings and stuff so it's already outfitted with tables and a dance floor. We'd need to have the whole thing catered, but that shouldn't be a problem with all the money we'll save in the budget. I'm sure my grandparents will give us the place for free.” I finished talking, and had to fight off the urge to press my hand over my mouth to keep any more words from coming out.

I didn't have the nerve to look up at her, which felt strange to me. But this was personal. My grandparents' farm was the best place in my world. Going there always made me feel better, more like myself. It wasn't something I could put into words, and the only person who understood what I meant was Jake. He'd come with me every summer since we were eight to stay for two weeks.

“I think that's a great idea.” Jake's voice sounded thick with emotion, but I didn't want to dwell on what that fact might mean. Instead I focused on the fact that he was seconding my suggestion. That had to mean that we weren't fighting anymore. I peeked over at him out of the corner of my eye, and saw that he had a bemused smile on his face. My courage returned in a flood, and I looked up at Mary Beth.

She still had her hands on her hips, but her head was tilted to one side, her shiny blond ponytail swinging precariously to one side. The expression on her face was thoughtful. I could actually see the wheels in her head turning. Instead of a look of disgust, she looked almost excited.

“Maybe,” she said slowly, drawing the word out to twelve syllables. “It's not the worst suggestion we've had.” She glanced around the room pointedly. “I mean, we'd have to go look at it physically. I can't make such a huge decision just by looking at pictures or whatever. Thoughts?” She moved her head from left to right like she was watching a tennis match. “Good. Mr. Carson, when can we get that field trip scheduled to look at the location?”

Everyone's attention turned to our teacher who had apparently dozed off, and when Mary Beth said his name, he jerked awake. Fumbling through some papers on his desk, he pulled out a planner. “Next Friday?”

Mary Beth shook her head firmly. “That's too late. We'll lose a week and a half of planning. No we need to go this Friday. Make it happen.” Then she looked at me. “And, Allison, you should probably go call your, who? Your grandparents? Call them now, to let them know we'll be there around ten o'clock. We can spend a few hours looking around, taking notes, getting measurements.”