I’m so excited as I stand before Mr. Fitz and declare my decision, I can hardly contain myself. This is going to be even better than the Southwest Star! It’s going to be legendary. I even started brainstorming names on my walk over here. So far I like The Windsor Express, The Windsor World, and just The W.
I came to Mr. Fitz because he’s the head of the English department, so I assume he’d be the one to talk to about starting a new writing-oriented club. And as soon as he signs off on it, I’m going straight to Dylan Parker to get to the bottom of this test-stealing scandal.
If I work extra hard—like really hustle—I might even be able to get an issue out in time for the Spartan Press Awards deadline at the end of this week!
And why wouldn’t I win? I know exactly what it takes to win. I’m a winner. No, I’m a crusher!
And I will crush this, too.
Mr. Fitz closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, looking extremely intrigued by my idea. Even he thinks it’s a winner. In fact, he’s probably sitting there right now, wondering why he didn’t think of it himself.
“You want to start a student newspaper?” he confirms.
I nod. “Yes. And I already know what my first story is going to be.”
His eyebrows rise inquisitively. “And what is that?”
“The test-stealing scandal.”
He looks hopeful. “Do you know who’s behind it?”
“Not yet,” I admit. “But I want to investigate. And I want to publish my findings in a school newspaper.” I hitch my bag farther up my shoulder. “So, what’s the protocol? Do I need like a faculty sponsor or something?”
He reopens his laptop. “No.”
I blink in confusion. “No, I don’t need a faculty sponsor?”
“No, you do need one of those. You’ll need a faculty member to sign an activity activation form and then you’ll need to file it with the dean’s office, but I’m saying no. I won’t sign it.”
My mouth falls open. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
I stand there speechless for a few seconds before resolving, “Fine. I’ll just ask another faculty member.”
“And I’ll make sure they say no, too,” he says evenly.
“B-b-but, you can’t do that,” I protest, shocked. “Doesn’t every student have a right to form a club?”
“Yes,” he admits. “Every student but you.”
So much for being Fitz’s favorite. This man obviously has some kind of vendetta against me.
“Why?” I demand, tears of frustration springing to my eyes.
“That,” he says, pointing at my face. “Right there. That’s why.”
I sniffle. “Because I’m crying? You won’t let me start a newspaper because I’m a sensitive person who shows her emotions? Would you rather I be a heartless robot who never shares her feelings and walks around all day acting like a … like a … zombie?”
Fitz doesn’t even blink. He stays perfectly calm and replies, “No. I won’t let you start a newspaper because you’re too hard on yourself. You’re already stretched far too thin and I’m worried about you.”
“Well, I’m fine!” I insist, wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “And I’d be better if I could just do what makes me happy. And right now, that’s starting a newspaper.”
Fitz rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, looking like he’s trying to summon strength. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. You’re what the administration calls an ‘at risk’ student. Your ambition has the tendency to get the better of you. You stress easily. You let the pressures of succeeding here compromise who you are. I’ve seen it happen too many times. Like with Lucinda Wallace. I let her down. We all did. We didn’t get involved soon enough. Maybe if we’d recognized the signs earlier, we could have saved her from self-destructing.”
I squint at him, unable to believe what I’m hearing.
He’s crazy. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know me. I want to scream at him to take a look around. Everyone here is stressed out. Everyone wants to succeed. Sequoia just had a complete meltdown in the student union! Why am I being singled out? Because I’m too ambitious? Last I checked, ambition wasn’t a bad thing. Ambition is what won me three Spartan Press Awards in a row. Ambition is why I’m at the top of my class in one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Ambition is the reason Geraldine Watkins is recommending me for admission to Columbia University!
Mr. Fitz sighs. “I don’t want to see the pressure get to you, too. I don’t want to see you crack. I worry that one more thing on your plate, one more responsibility, will be the thing that breaks you.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me,” I say, as sternly and calmly as I can when all I really want to do is scream and throw something. “I’m not going to crack. I’m not Lucinda. I’m my own person. I’m Kennedy.”
Mr. Fitz nods, like he wholeheartedly agrees. “Exactly. And I’m trying to save you from her.”
I bristle and spin on my heels. “Don’t bother!” I call back over my shoulder as I march toward the door. “I don’t need saving.”