A Maxley Story

Chapter 9

Max rubbed his temples, staring at the numbers on his monitor. He had been working on analyzing the school's budget for the past week, and the deeper he dug, the grimmer the picture looked. This wasn't what he had imagined when he took the internship with the chancellor. He expected more general administrative work, maybe some campus events, and helping coordinate some university-wide projects, not a crash course in university finance. Yet, here he was, spending most of his days poring over spreadsheets.

What surprised him the most was how much he was learning—and how much responsibility he had been given. James had been nothing but open with him about Lakewood's financial state, inviting him into confidential discussions about the troubled university's future.

One of his main tasks was to figure out where the university was overspending. There were obvious places to look—like inflated maintenance costs and underused facilities—but the issue was more complicated than that. It wasn't just about cutting budgets; it was about balancing the university's mission with its financial reality. Lakewood University, with only about 8,000 students, didn't have the luxury of a massive endowment to cushion against bad years.

Apparently, James had been chosen by the university's Board of Trustees as the new chancellor because of his financial focus. James even let it slip that the prior dean had retired earlier than expected because of the university's financial shortcomings.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Max squinted at his monitor as he combed through data. He couldn't help but notice some troubling patterns, especially with some of the arts programs. Old buildings in need of repairs, scholarships, equipment, faculty salaries—it all added up. And while there were plenty of passionate students in some of these programs, few had gone on to become major donors.

Max frowned. The university wasn't just bleeding money in one area—it was all over the place. Outdated administrative systems were costing more than they should, and certain under-enrolled programs were still receiving full funding despite relatively few students showing interest. On top of that, the costs of keeping up campus buildings—some of which were nearly a century old—were eating away at the budget.

Still, Max felt a strange sense of fulfillment. As crappy as the situation was, he liked helping make some of the big decisions to get the university out of the red. He'd already had a few late-afternoon discussions where James asked Max for his thoughts on how to prioritize cuts without harming the student experience. Max liked having the chance to play an active role, not just sitting on the sidelines.

Max leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting toward the large windows overlooking campus. The office was perched in the tower above the university's library, the fifth and highest floor, with a nearly panoramic view of the school's brick buildings. Most of the campus consisted of low-rise academic halls and dorms. The heart of the campus spread out below him, a few students still milling about despite the summer quiet.

The office itself was old-school and filled with furniture nearing antique status, with dark wooden desks and heavy leather chairs that had clearly been around for decades. The décor, from the brass lamps to the ornate rug, all seemed to belong to an earlier time. Two unused desks, likely relics from a period when the Chancellor's Office had more staff, sat in one corner, their surfaces polished but empty.

James had refused to hire a personal assistant even though his office had the budget for it. He had told Max it was to set the tone for how he was going to run the school. Budget cuts would affect everyone, even him.

Looking around, Max took in the memorabilia adorning the walls—black-and-white photos of the campus from decades past, framed portraits of Lakewood's early graduating classes, and images showing the construction of newer campus buildings. The room felt like a blend of history and legacy, with each detail adding weight to the importance of the space.