Head Over Leather #Wattys2017

XL. Winners and Losers

"Hey Maya, so sorry that I couldn't get this to you sooner, but y'know how cheerleading practice can be." Carrie, captain of the cheerleading squad, smiles apologetically, tight ponytail swaying back and forth as she hands me a clean copy of her article. She reminds of Riley in so many ways, with such an infectious personality that makes you feel warm all over.

"It's no problem. These past few weeks have been crazy. I have my last exam today, so I'm a bit behind on my article as well." I explain, glancing down as I safely store her article in a sheet protector in my binder that's practically overflowing at this point. In all my years at this school, I've never seen it so full.

"Oh yeah, what're you writing about anyway? Everyone's so excited about this final edition, getting to be involved and all but I think they're more excited about what you're writing. I mean come on, your last article about Eth-" Carrie's mouth snaps shut at her slip up and I let out a small chuckle at her panicked expression.

"Carrie, it's okay. You can say his name. I'm fine. And I know that my last article will be tough to live up to, but right now I'm just focusing on my last exam and then getting out this final edition before prom. As for the contents of my article, I'm afraid it's a secret." Carrie nods in understanding, before eyeing the glittery pink watch on her wrist and point a thumb towards the door.

"I'd really love to stay and chat, but I have to go talk to Mr. Demina about my last paper. See you around, Maya!" And with that, she exits the room, leaving me with my thoughts. I've been trying so hard not to think about Ethan but now with the chaos of final exams dying down, it's all my mind can wander to. We haven't spoken for weeks. I didn't even bother to reach out to him after the whole Rachel debacle and yet there's still a part of me that feels like we're unfinished.

But I can't keep hoping that the boy who shattered my heart will also be the one to piece it back together.

***
"Can I see it now?" Jess whines for the fifth time, leaning her elbows against my desk and propping her chin up in her hands to look directly at me. I roll my eyes and continue typing away, finishing off my last few sentences. Never before have I cut it so close to the deadline, but with all that's been going on and my exams on top of that, it just felt like another thing on a list that I was never going to complete.

"You've been so secretive about it. We always run our ideas past each other, so what's the big deal now?" Jess' persistence is a trait I admire in some cases. But now? Not really. It just feels like added pressure. Pressure to live up to my last article. Pressure to complete my legacy.

"Look, it's being published tomorrow, so you'll see it then anyway, now go, I have to finish some layout stuff too." And with that, she sticks her tongue out at me, before swinging her bag over her shoulder and walking out the room.

With a sigh, I lean back, eyes tracing over my final high-school piece ever and I almost wonder how I even made it this far. How I even stepped into this year thinking it wouldn't be any different from the last few. But then I wrote that article and all of a sudden, this gorgeous, charming, butterfly creating, gut churning boy burst into my world like he was always meant to be there. Only it took me falling hard and mistakes I couldn't get past to see how he didn't belong with me at all. Snapping out of my thoughts, I re-focus back on my piece and finally type out the headline:

"How I Fell Head Over Leather for the Bad Boy of Jensen High (After Publicly Humiliating Him)"

*****

To say that I was nervous would be an understatement. It wasn't just about my article, but the entire edition. Never before has the Chronicle featured stories written by the graduating class and there's a part of me that fears it won't be what everyone wanted or expected. But there's a bigger part of me that knows I contributed to and created something that I truly believe in and hold close to my heart. And so, with a deep breath, I push open the doors to meet my fate.