But if Brady was coming to campus and it wasn’t a planned venue for him, then he had to be doing it for a reason. And she couldn’t think that that reason was…her.

“The university has approved space and even encouraged us to consider doing a series about the upcoming election. We’re still considering that option, but as you are our contact at the campus paper, we wanted to let you know that this is an open press event. We won’t be taking questions until after the event closes, at Senator Maxwell’s request. We hope that you will be in attendance for this special occasion,” Heather said in the same condescending tone.

It hardly felt like a press request, more like a demand. Liz’s insides were squirming at the thought of seeing Brady again, but she wasn’t comfortable with this conversation. Who called after hours like this? If this was about Brady, then he could damn well call her himself.

“Thank you, Ms. Ferrington. We’ll take it under consideration. If you need to reach us again, please do call during office hours. We typically aren’t working this late,” Liz answered diplomatically.

“Look, Miss Dougherty…” Heather said impatiently. Liz was waiting for her to humph on the other end of the line. “Senator Maxwell’s time is limited, and he’s coming to the university. If your paper isn’t interested in covering a prominent local official, I’d be happy to reach out to Chapel Hill News.”

Liz held back the immediate bitchy retort that was hanging on the tip of her tongue. Did this woman think it was appropriate to bully a newspaper?

She took a deep breath before replying. “We would be happy to have Chapel Hill News on campus, of course. Please send over the details for the event, and a reporter will be in attendance. Thank you for informing us of this great opportunity,” she said as cheerfully as possible.

“Wonderful, Miss Dougherty. Glad we’re on the same terms. I’ll shoot an email over to you with the details. Look forward to meeting you then.”

“You too, Ms. Ferrington,” Liz said as she hung up the phone. She had already met Heather once before, two weeks earlier. She wondered whether Heather would remember her, whether she knew that Liz had slept with Brady—if Heather herself had slept with Brady. No. She didn’t want to think about that. She had spent too much time thinking about Brady Maxwell already. Most of it wondering whether she was ever going to see him in person again, or if she would be left with his shots on her computer screen.

Now that she knew she would be seeing him again, she was even more concerned with how the event would play out. Did no questions until after mean he wanted to see her afterward? What was his motivation for coming here anyway?

She had so many questions, and she realized that she was now very much awake. Sighing in frustration, Liz pulled her computer back out and booted it up. She wasn’t going to bed anytime soon.


Liz woke the next morning with her head buried in the keys of her laptop. Grumbling to herself, she yawned widely and closed the monitor. She hadn’t even known it was possible to actually fall asleep on her computer.

Running a hand back through her hair, she grabbed her bag and walked out into the main office. She hoped she didn’t look as shitty as she felt.

“Morning, Liz,” Meagan called cheerfully as Liz walked by. Liz waved at her halfheartedly, ready to get out of the office and back to her house. “Long night?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled, trying her best to get away as quickly as possible. Meagan was a known big mouth. Once you got her talking, it was impossible to get away. She ran an opinions column that was relatively popular among the student body, but the column had no background in even basic journalism.

“I got some bagels from Alpine. Do you want one?” Meagan asked.

“Nah, that’s all right. I’m about to go get some food.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said, packing up her things.

“Really, Meagan, I’ve had a long night, and I’m sure you have a lot of work to do. I’ll catch up with you later,” Liz said, darting out of the office.

She made it down to her car, happy that it didn’t have a ticket on the windshield. They started at forty dollars regardless of the offense. While she probably deserved it for staying in the service vehicle lot overnight, she was glad that fate had looked on her with good fortune. Returning to her house off campus, she took a quick shower to wash away the grime of the office. She scarfed down a bowl of Frosted Flakes and then hightailed it back to campus. At this rate she was going to be late for her class.

Liz was running too far behind to walk to campus or take the bus, so she would have to pay for parking in one of the few decks on campus. There were a ton of spots thanks to the summer session, but it was still an uphill hike to her class. Sweat beaded on her temples as she climbed the hill, reached the journalism building, and rushed into the over-air-conditioned room.

Professor Mires was Liz’s favorite instructor, and she hated being late to her class. She slipped into the room right before the professor closed the door.

“Good to see you, Miss Dougherty,” Professor Mires said.

“Morning, Professor,” Liz said with a sheepish smile.

Professor Mires was a younger professor as far as they went, probably in her early thirties. She dressed like a fashionable hippie, with librarian glasses and her hair always pulled back into a messy bun. She was married to a guy a couple years younger than her who hung around her office all the time. All the girls swooned over him, because he was always bringing her flowers and leaving her love notes on her whiteboard.

Liz took a seat at the back of the room and pulled her computer out. She still needed to check to see whether she had received an email from Heather with the details of Brady’s campus visit.

Her in-box lit up before her eyes as Professor Mires began the lecture. The majority of the emails were clothing stores asking for her business, and articles from the newspapers that she followed. And there at the bottom sat one email from a Ms. Heather Ferrington. Liz clicked on the email and read through it. Her stomach dropped when she saw the date. Wednesday. Next Wednesday. As in a week from now. Two whole weeks without Brady.

Liz knew she shouldn’t have been disappointed, but she wanted him here sooner. Of course, he was busy running for office and all. There was no way he would be here today or tomorrow or any sooner. Not to mention the university probably didn’t have immediate open space either.

But that left her another whole week to obsess about Brady.

A new message came in and Liz clicked back to her in-box. Her heart skipped when she saw who it was from. Hayden Lane.

She hadn’t thought about him in a week. Before Brady had catapulted into her life, she had been so set on Hayden. They’d had their pseudo date before he left and then that awkward moment when he had basically said they couldn’t date. She still wasn’t sure what Hayden was feeling or if he was into her. Didn’t really matter right now anyway. Hayden was in D.C., and she was aching in all the right places for a Senator she could never really be with.


Liz, How are things at the paper? I’ve been following your column and love what you’re doing with it. Wish I could be there. I’m seriously missing it. Can’t think of anything I’d like to be doing less than getting people coffee. Hope your summer has been more eventful than mine so far. I received an email from the Maxwell campaign’s press secretary last night. They’re doing a special presentation next Wednesday. Wasn’t sure if she contacted you or not, but I thought I’d attach the email here. We should definitely be there. I think Maxwell’s primary race will be the one to watch. Your last article about him really got the student body to pay attention for once. I’d recommend introducing yourself to him. I know you disagree with the guy, but it would be great for the paper if we could get an interview. Let me know how it all goes. Hope you’re still considering a trip up here. I’d love to show you around.


Hayden Lane Editor-in-Chief

Liz read through the email twice, getting more irritated the second read through. She seriously wanted to have words with Heather Ferrington. Why did she call her at midnight last night if she had already emailed Hayden the details the day before?

Then there was the part about Brady. She had already introduced herself to him…all of herself. If she managed to find herself alone with him for an interview, she wasn’t sure she could guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. If only Hayden knew what he was saying by pushing her toward an interview with Brady.

Her anger slowly deflated. Hayden kind of seemed to…miss her. He had asked about her summer and even asked her to come to D.C. to see him again. She hadn’t thought he was serious about her visiting. Now she was thinking about when she could fit it into her summer schedule. Probably the end of July. Right after the journalism class let out would probably be best.

Taking a deep breath, she jotted out a reply.


Hayden, The paper is great. Everyone misses having you around to keep us in line, but we’re making do without you. My summer has been generally boring besides the column, which Professor Mires said I could use for my class project. Sorry to hear your summer isn’t everything you wanted it to be. Do they have you doing anything besides acquiring coffee? I received this information from Ms. Ferrington just before your email. I’ve already agreed that we’d cover it. I’ll see what I can do about an interview. If he’s read my article, I doubt he’ll give me one, but I’ll do what I can.

Liz cringed at the obvious deception, but it wasn’t as if she could tell Hayden she had slept with Brady. She continued with her email.


A trip to D.C. sounds great. What about after the end of the term? I think I’m free late July, if that works for you. Love,

Liz paused. That was probably all wrong. She backspaced the valediction and tried again.


Best, Liz

She hit Send and waited for a reply. She had taken too much time writing it to begin with. She had no idea what the professor was lecturing on now. It had been rough trying to say everything she wanted to say without going overboard. She had decided in the end to keep it as short as possible.