“Meaning I don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything about you.”
Angeline fidgeted in the hard wooden chair. “Why are we doing this here? Now? During lunch? With this stupid primary, Maxine and I need to use every free period to reach voters.”
Grady cleared his throat. “Don’t you mean bribe?”
Angeline sprang to her feet. “You little twerp. What are you even doing here?”
“Learning.” Cat gestured for Angeline to sit and directed a warning glance at her new mentee. Grady had been more persistent than a seagull going after a bag of chips. He had a sixth sense for when Cat crossed the threshold into the newsroom, because about three minutes later, he’d appear, asking about number of sources, which layout program to use, The Red and Blue’s social media accounts, of which there were none. He’d been texting her four times a day, and she didn’t even know how he’d gotten her number (something he pointed out as evidence of his investigative skills). He plain wore her down. The fresh scones he brought her every morning didn’t hurt. But the two had come up with rules. Cat couldn’t be slowed down by him, and she’d never risk her paper publishing anything less than her high standards.
“And,” Cat said, “as someone who’s learning, he’s simply observing. Otherwise—”
Grady mimed zipping his mouth shut but pouted.
Cat had never felt her extra year of age so much.
“Now.” She turned back to her sister. “Where were we?”
The arrangement of four chairs that Cat had set up, with her own in front, trapped Angeline. Exactly the claustrophobic feel Cat had wanted to create.
“This is a total fire hazard.” Angeline tried to wriggle her way out of the semicircle. “Can’t we do this at home?”
“Not unless you want Emmie Hayes, Jay Choi, and Leo in our living room tonight.”
“But why do you have to interview us together?”
“Deadlines.” True, though the real reason Cat had scheduled all the interviews at the same time was to encourage debate that would lead to the most authentic story she could get. And . . . maybe the tiniest part of her had scheduled them all together to show Angeline that she could, that she was in charge here.
Angeline freed one leg, then the other, and strolled the newsroom. She skimmed her fingers along the table with the finicky printer, and it was like she was drumming Cat’s spine. She nudged the stack of last year’s newspapers with the toe of her sandal, but it was Cat’s body that felt rocked. Angeline sat her butt right on top, and the weight nearly crushed Cat.
As Angeline leaned over the old iMac and set her iridescent painted fingernail on Ravi’s drawing of Cat, she rethought the decision to bring her sister here.
And then footsteps resounded in the hall.
“Welcome to The Red and Blue,” Ravi said, ushering Jay Choi, Emmie, and Leo into the newsroom. “This here’s our editor in chief, Cat. Though, careful, because she’s a real shark when it comes to getting at the truth.”
Leo looked at Angeline, whose lips ticked up into a hesitant smile.
“I’m so not doing this,” Leo said.
Cat watched her sister’s face pale, and something prickled beneath her skin. “But you agreed. It won’t take long, I promise.”
“No offense, Cat, but Quinns don’t exactly have the most trustworthy track record.”
Leo’s words were like a slap. No matter the reason why. She waited for her sister to fling a gibe back, to save face in front of everyone in the room, but she remained quiet and simply claimed a seat on the end.
It was Ravi who spoke up, his eyes bright and friendly as always, but his tone expressing exactly what he thought of Leo. “Embrace it, I say. The ladies are looking for a man who’s in touch with his feelings.”
Across from Leo, Cat held the notebook he’d given her face out. Leo’s eyes softened, and he took the only free seat, right beside Angeline.
8
When Angeline Watches Cat Strut Her Stuff
24 DAYS TO THE ELECTION
3 DAYS TO THE PRIMARY
Angeline’s hands were clammy. She didn’t sweat. She’d trained herself out of it after having to refilm a segment where everything was on point . . . except for the rings under her armpits.
But all her hard work vanished the moment she was in Cat’s newsroom by Leo’s side, looking at him in that lime-green sweatshirt, taking in the buzzed sides of his dark hair, the sweep of long locks across the top, the slight sunburn on the tops of his ears . . . His arm had brushed hers. Twice. By accident? Maybe the first time. But the second . . .
Was it remotely possible he missed her too?
While Angeline stole glances at Leo, Emmie droned on like a robot. “Eligible voters . . . twenty percent . . . unregistered . . . voting . . . ingrained . . . microcosm . . . supporting Ms. Lute . . . preregistering initiative.”
Angeline zoned in and out until, finally, the buzzing in her ear stopped, and she realized Emmie had finished speaking.
Cat nodded politely. “That’s all very interesting, Ms. Hayes, but this is Acedia.”
Emmie tilted her head ever so slightly. “I’m aware.”
“Acedia,” Cat repeated. “Where for the past three years student council hasn’t actually completed a single fundraiser.”
“Well.” Emmie laced her fingers together in her lap. “That’s why I’m running. I intend to follow through with every initiative I plan.”
Another nod from Cat. “That’s a commendable goal, Miss Hayes, but it’s not that the student councils haven’t planned a fundraiser, as you would know, having served as secretary. The failure has been in the participation by the student body. The sharing of the photo of Principal Schwartz’s doppelgänger outnumbered actual ballots cast in last year’s StuCo election by a factor of ten. And the Show Your Support Day you proposed last year led not to students engaging with one another but to thrift store bras being hung throughout the school. No one was held accountable, not even by their peers. A few girls challenged with ‘slap on the wrist’ emojis, but the outrage that should have been simply wasn’t. How do you intend to combat the apathy that is Acedia?”
Angeline’s eyes widened. Who knew her sister had this in her? She tried to catch Leo’s eye, but he aimed his gaze straight ahead.
Emmie pursed her lips. “Like I said yesterday in the cafeteria, my platform centers on students having a voice in what happens here—all students, not just the ones on the student council.”