Big Shot | ✓

07 | with or without you

The summer heat had officially started to set in as we moved into the middle of June. My blood had definitely thinned out since moving to the South almost full time, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss more temperate weather in New York on the first few days of Hell at Clemson.

After walking back to my apartment from spin class, I found myself sticking my head in the freezer.

"Were you graced with another appearance from Sir Reid the Arrogant?" Bree called out to me from the living room.

"No," I called back, my voice echoing back at me from the freezer. I grabbed my roll of frozen cookie dough that I'd made earlier that week and slammed the freezer door shut. "Actually, he hasn't been at any classes since last week, but I guess that's not all that surprising. They're allowed to do certain voluntary workouts and film study now, so I'm sure that's where he's been."

"Either that or your overcompetitiveness ran him out of class," Bree chuckled, reaching over the kitchen island to grab for the cookie dough before I swatted her hand away.

"No, I have this weighed out perfectly," I scolded her. "Plus, you'll get salmonella."

"Oh please," Bree scoffed, hoisting herself up to sit on the edge of the counter beside the fridge. "Salmonella is a myth."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Says the science major."

"I'm a civil engineer, not a biochemist." Bree retorted with an eye roll. "Anyway, don't you have that Zoom meeting with your ESPN contact for your internship soon?"

"Yes, and by the time it's done, my dough will be thawed and I can make my cookies." I grabbed the cling-film wrapped dough and put it in the fridge before setting a two-hour timer on my phone.

"Good luck!" Bree called after me as I made my way into our bathroom.

"Thanks! And don't touch my dough!"

While my meeting with Mariah was only over Zoom and it wasn't like I was interviewing for anything at this point, I still took my time blow-drying my hair and putting on a fresh, thin layer of makeup. It was my first meeting with her since formally taking the internship, and I still operated under the assumption that I had to earn something. I wanted to be taken seriously.

Mariah called me from her swanky office at ESPN's headquarters in Connecticut, where directly behind her was a massive painting of the Swamp - The University of Florida's highly intimidating football stadium fan section. We made conventional small talk before getting into details of my work study project. Regardless of what project I'd be doing, it would be my sole focus this fall with no actual classes, since it fulfilled the entirety of my semester credits.

Mariah swiped through a tablet in front of her. "I looked over your pitch for the Donahue piece. I'm assuming you're still interested in trying to persuade him to do it. Have you made any headway there?"

"I'm working on it," I replied with a tight smile, hoping the video quality would mask the faint hesitation. "I was actually waiting for your approval on my pitch before sharing the more detailed project outline with him. I think it would help him get a sense for it, and maybe be the thing that ultimately convinces him to do it."

Mariah nodded contemplatively. She had her dark hair pinned back, showing off her very large, undoubtedly real diamond earrings. "Well, I like the serial aspect of it, it's become a very trendy way of presenting written pieces. Your video content will pair well with them too."

Despite not being a journalism major, I'd agreed to write a few profile-type pieces on Reid throughout the football season. I'd taken inspiration from longform articles in The New York Times and Vogue on various songwriters, actors, and other public personas, and included a few writing samples in my pitch to Mariah. The angle I'd presented to them positioned Reid as more of an "ordinary" person, and more than just a personification of his injury. I'd learned over the last few weeks that that narrative didn't serve anyone anymore.