Chapter 1
Call it momentary amnesia or morning-fueled absent-mindedness. Whichever you choose, Kennedi Kincaid was right in the thick of it. Though she opened her eyes, one at a time, and stretched groggily as though it were a normal day, that was by no means the case – not even by a long shot. Today was, quite poetically and rather logically, the first day of the rest of her life for two very distinct, very magical reasons.
Magical reason #1: this was officially the inaugural day of her senior year at Douglas State University (DSU). Four years prior to this very date, at freshman orientation, when she was told to look to her left, then to her right, and warned that “one of you won’t make it”, Kennedi had no doubt that she would definitely not be the “one” to fall by the wayside. At the outset of her journey at DSU, actually getting to senior year was only a tangible idea that lived in her mind, buoyed by her determination. Today, it was in fact a reality – a yet-to-be celebrated reality– but a dream that had achieved fruition, nonetheless.
Magical reason #2: this would be her first official day on campus following a game-changing summer experience. After not only landing a highly coveted internship at Sports Illustrated (SI) but standing out amongst the rest during her tenure, Kennedi would now have the professional bona fides to call major shots as a reporter at her campus newspaper, the Douglas Weekly. While she had been a member of the Weekly’s writing staff for two years and earned some level of seniority as a result, Kennedi knew that working at a nationally-recognized publication – if only for the summer – would definitely give her the increased clout she needed to make major moves at her home institution. All throughout the summer, as she thought about returning back to campus, she couldn’t wait to wield her shiny, newfound street cred. Today would be the first opportunity to do that and – so far – she had met the day as if it was as humdrum as any other.
That was, until she didn’t – until lightning struck and she was instantaneously reminded why her ho-hum transition from deep sleep to consciousness needed a serious do-over. Suddenly, as if a switch was flipped and a bulb illuminated over her head, Kennedi went from yawning and nonchalantly stretching in bed, to the wide-eyed look of excitement and anticipation worthy of a day like this one. Kennedi quickly realized that the faster she got out of bed, the sooner she could take full advantage of everything that the day had in store for her. Freshly motivated by a carpe diem-fueled zeal, she swatted the covers from across her body, jutted her legs out from the sheets, and sprang up to greet the day as soon as her feet were firmly planted on the floor.
While, magical reasons #1 and #2 were quite fabulous on their own, when synergistically melded together, they sparked yet another reason for the sheer excitement finally, fittingly running through Kennedi’s bones. During the summer, she had a major aha moment and was heavily inspired to flex her muscle as both a high-achieving senior and a highly-proficient journalist the second she got back to campus. Kennedi had decided to explore a once-in-a-lifetime kind of story that could draw major attention to DSU and lurch her career forward in a major way. While she could clearly see the benefit of her idea to the campus, to the Weekly, and to herself, she also knew that it wouldn’t be put into action unless she sold it, in the just the right way, to the right people and today was the day to do it!
After rising out of bed and getting into the early-morning groove of her day, Kennedi went to her favorite place to get her thoughts together: the bathroom. Though slightly unconventional, the mirror that sat right above her sink was just the place she needed to practice the pitch for her ingenious idea and lay the foundation to get her groundbreaking story greenlit. On this particular morning, Kennedi began brainstorming by taking a look at herself in the mirror, grabbing her toothbrush, and then slathering it with a minty, white gel. With her toothbrush in hand, moving it in a sweeping, bubble-inducing motion across her teeth, she practiced the arguments she would use to persuade the Douglas Weekly’s Editor-in-Chief and its staff that her story just had to be written. Speaking directly to the mirror, as if it were her audience, she laid the groundwork for the day to come.
For the last year and a half, at least, Kennedi’s mirror had been a major testing ground for her – prime speech-rehearsal real estate. As a journalist who had to propose story ideas, conduct interviews, and interact with a wide variety of people, her mirror often gave her the space to lay out her thoughts, draft strategies, and be more than equipped to tap into the magic that happens when opportunity meets preparation.
Kennedi learned very early-on in her journalistic career that – aside from the backspace key on her keyboard and the much maligned retraction – there were very few ways to correct critical mistakes and rebuild in her chosen profession. Dropping the ball on a pivotal conversation, failing to investigate a lead, or missing out on an opportunity to engage an interesting perspective could be the death knell for her. She learned this critical fact as a neophyte and Kennedi was the type of person that never had to learn a hard lesson twice. This morning was no different. She had a basic idea about what she wanted to say and how; she just needed to refine her delivery, figure out which words to emphasize, and make sure that her facial expressions supported her message.
Her mind brimming with ideas, after a few several test runs, Kennedi managed to eek out a concise, effective position for why her once-in-a-lifetime story had to be told. When she was convinced that she had a solid premise and a winning argument, Kennedi went about readying herself to leave the house. After strategically preparing her mind, body, and ego to face the day, Kennedi eagerly bolted from her apartment and into her car, ready to get her fall semester and – quite possibly – the assignment of her career to date started. Somewhat of a perfectionist, Kennedi rehearsed the delivery of her pitch again and again. By the time she finally had her script and cadence nailed down, she’d battled through traffic, arrived to DSU’s main commuter lot, and was ready to park.
As she made the walk from her car to the Fine Arts building, where the Douglas Weekly was headquartered, Kennedi was happy to be back on campus and was reminded of why fall semester had always been her favorite. As a season, fall is usually associated with the ironic beauty of dying and decaying things – think the golden, red, and bronze leaves that signal the inevitable approach of the cold, dreary winter to come. But, as a semester, at least for Kennedi, fall was actually the time for new beginnings, when the promise of growth was in the air - think the newly minted freshmen, overflowing with hope about their future. Even for students returning to campus, fall marked a chance to rebirth expectation and reintroduce themselves to the people, places, and things that continued to shape their experiences and themselves.
In that vein, after reaching campus and getting re-acclimated to everything, something familiar was re-awakened inside of Kennedi. Just like that, she had been given the missing ingredient; she knew that she was ready to make her case and, ultimately, make her mark.