Big Shot | ✓

02 | full spread

It could not be understated how much the energy in the room had shifted when Reid Donahue walked through those glass doors. He naturally pulled attention to him the way I imagined a planet's gravity pulled in wayward asteroids. It was just the scientific way things worked, and we were all just doomed to be moons in Reid Donahue's unrelenting orbit. 

He'd clearly just come up from the locker rooms, threading his fingers through his still-damp locks of hair as Elijah explained to him the reason for calling him up after the spring game. Reid looked like he had about 10,000 other places he'd rather be, his regrettably handsome face masked with a vacant expression, but he'd listened intently without interrupting.

But the moment Elijah finished his elevator pitch for ESPN's intentions with him this season, the response came out of Reid quickly and ferociously, like a demon being exorcized.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not."

The hint of native Southern twang in his voice was blanketed in sharp ice, and it shrunk Elijah in his chair. The conference room we were all sat in was soundproof, which only added to the feeling like we'd all just been sucked into a vacuum of silence. I wasn't sure how long we lingered in that vacuum, but the awkwardness continued to balloon.

"Why not?"

It took me a moment to realize I had in fact been the one to shatter the silence. It was too late now, and after a short but full lifetime of speaking my mind sans filter, I'd grown into the kind of person that had to lean into my verbal blunders. So, I sat up in my chair as I braced for the impact of when Reid undoubtedly decided to fix his gaze onto me. After all, my question had merit whether he liked it or not.

But when our eyes met, there was a tiredness glazed over his - far from the freezer burn I'd expected, and far softer and warmer than his dark eyes had any right to be.

"Because I don't want to," he replied, cooler and calmer than I anticipated. "And I don't owe you any more explanation than that."

"Reid." Mariah had stood up from the cushy orange chair at the head of the table and spoke to him with the tact of a mother gently trying to parent her son. "I implore you to think on this for a bit. We don't need an answer right away-" 

"But I've given you my answer," came the response of the petulant child. "And the fact that y'all just concocted this without consulting me at all and just assuming I'd go along with it is fucked up."

Guys like Reid always needed the last word, so he backed out of the conference room before anyone could muster up another response. He let the glass door shut behind him, leaving a chill lingering in the air as if someone had left the window open in the middle of winter.

"Shit," Kayla sighed out, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I really did not think he would react that negatively."

"I did," I grumbled.

Mariah, sensing my indisposition, turned her attention to me, and I stiffened up again. I had to remind myself this wasn't any normal brat-pack-esque media team meeting, and I was still in the presence of someone who had a crystal ball with my name on it. She knew my future before I did.

"Don't worry, you still have the work study internship with us. You earned it, Josephine," she reassured me, her composure unwavering. I could only assume the overprivileged, hot shot athletic personalities she had to deal with on a regular basis made her almost unflappable. "We have plenty of projects in the wings, so I'm sure we can find something else for you to do."

I allowed more relief to show on my face and offered Mariah a soft smile. "Thanks, I appreciate that. And whatever happens, I promise I'll be committed to it."