headline ; l.h

chapter 2 ; my type

saint motel - my type

"You what?!" Katie practically screamed like a hyena because of excitement.

"Yes, I know. What's so great about that?" I roll my eyes and release a deep sigh as I continue on my daily routine of staring at the blank screen on the laptop. "Not even a big deal."

"Not even a big deal? What? Do you even hear yourself? You would normally gush about talking to a hot boy. But for pete's sake, Emily! You talked to Luke Hemmings!" She was hysterically freaking out about me talking to Luke.

"I don't see why I need to gush out about what happened. Nothing sexual or romantic even happened so shut up." I turn the pages of my notebook to look for unpublished stories.

"Gosh, you have changed Emilia." She rolls her eyes and continue filing her nails with her feet up on the wooden table.

After minutes of silence, I finally spoke up about half of what really happened. "He did tell me something about our stories earlier before pre-calc when we were in drama class."

"Wow, how juicy." She nonchalantly replies.

"I am serious about this, Katie. He saw the "Casey kissing Hugh" bit that you reported a few months ago." I sit up straight and face Katie. "He said that our newspaper will sell more bucks if we sold rumors like that."

"It's like he's insulting us? It's like he's telling you that our newspaper isn't a big hit unless we sell rumors? Asshole." She rolls her eyes while filing the tip of her perfect fingernails.

"That doesn't matter, okay? He actually as a point. It actually makes sense." My brain does a victory dance for finally thinking of a way to solve this problem we have. "What if we publish rumors about people? But we'll publish it anonymously."

"That's actually a good idea. But people would actually hate us if we do." She quits filing her nails and takes a seat beside me.

"So? We'll publish it anonymously anyway. People won't know it's us. We just need to find controversial stories that will help us make bucks."

"People know you're the president and i'm the vice president of this club. People will know who's writing the stuff that gets published. It's a loophole, Emily. People will find out somehow." She actually made a point there. That aching thought makes my heart shatter into millions of pieces. I thought it would be the answer to all our problems.

"What if I told you that I don't actually give a fuck if they find out that we wrote some of the stories? This is 3% of our final grade, Katie. We need to find a way. Half of the money will go to us if it becomes successful before the end of the school year. See the advantages of not giving a single fuck? You'll get grades and money."

"Yeah I see your whole point, Emily. But won't we get in trouble if we post fictional stories about people? Most of the people and maybe even the only people who buy our shit are the teachers. No matter how much you hide it from the teachers, they'll find out somehow because they're the only ones who read it." She knits her eyebrows in frustration and confusion.

"Don't give a fuck, Katie. We'll get 100% scholarship next year at whatever college of your choice in journalism."

"How am I not going to give a fuck? I usually don't give a shit about what people say but if it's the teachers that are going to talk it's a different topic." It's kind of true, though. That Katie is such a nonchalant person. "I don't know, Emily. I'm gonna be late for gym class." She grabs her bag and walks off. She shuts the door loudly, leaving me alone in the newsroom with only my laptop and notebook to accompany me.