Earhart & Noonan: An "Us Club" Novel (#1)(NaNoWriMo15)

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"Back in Studio E in downtown Portersburgh, where we're talking about the new generation and their strong and hopeful influence on our ever-changing world with open hearts and minds alike."

Ryan Parker, Portersburgh's highly reputable political reporter and five-time award-winning commentator, leads his hour-long program into its main segment like only the dry-witted, snowy-haired host can.

"Joining me now from Arbourton is a hometown hero of sorts..."

The screen splits into two halves. The familiar hometown hero who pops up next to Ryan's headshot exudes a hooking quality.

"...Sen. Aaron Conneley. Welcome, sir. Thanks for coming on."

"...Hi, Ryan. Thanks for having me."

Maybe it's the slight accent from a skewed smile favoring his left side. Or, maybe it's the progressive passion for the city that "made" him, which critics call arrogance but the young senator calls confidence.

"Let's get right to the point, shall we? Henry J. Malloy University. Almost...a year since its opening. Wow. What a year, huh?"

"Heh. Yes! Very proud!"

"Your biggest passion has always been education. It's a part of your message. We know about your previous Conneley Schools in the region when you were governor. Two revamped schools. So, let me ask..."

"Shoot."

"...What, Senator, makes H.J.M. stand out from the rest?"

***

Westbrook

Last January

"You going to be okay there, kiddo?"

Looking up, everything around me appears blurry. I'm not zoned out. I've spent the past fifteen minutes just focusing on my fidgety hands in my lap. It's chilly out. I can hear the highway humming in the distance. That theme from Wife Swap is on the oldies station, probably as a part of the universe's way of mocking me over Peter because...yeah.

Why?

Because...I'm Stephen Vaughn. I made it to the valley. Westbrook. I'm shadowing at what was once old Portersburgh Community College back in Dad's time but is now the newly renovated Conneley cube of a school named Henry J. Malloy University.

You'll feel right at home.

Right. Nothing to worry about. I mean, it's the first time in four years since I've been inside of a physical school. What's so scary about that? How different could it be after all that time away?

"If you need anything, call," Dad says. "Otherwise, two?"

"Uh, yeah."

A tour, a couple classes and a lunch break will give me a taste of what it's like to be a college kid here. It reminds me of the time I shadowed at Maple Park High before I chose to go online (self-explanatory when my own shadow told me to stay as far away as possible).

"I expect some stories tonight. Love you," Dad says, leaning across the center console for an awkward car hug. "Have fun."

"Ditto," I reply. "I'll try."

You will. I know you're excited about this. Just be yourself.

Getting out of the car, I'm...not noticed. A few glances, but that's it. I start for the doors, hands in my hoodie pockets, head down, eyes up. Yeah. Look at me. I'm doing this. I was born with the college kid look. Other students I see just think I'm one of them.