Just when she made it across the room to her office, Massey stepped in front of her. “Liz!” she said with her normal bubbly personality. Massey was dressed in tight ripped jeans, a plaid button-down, and a North Face vest that she had monogrammed with her initials, like the majority of her other clothes. Liz glanced up and met her eyes.
“Hey, Massey.”
She nodded toward the office. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Liz said. Massey entered first and then Liz closed the door behind them.
Massey’s smile dropped as soon as they were in the confines of the office. “What were you thinking? I didn’t want to just go off in front of like everyone, but Brady Maxwell?” Her eyes widened. “I really thought you were the last person to sneak around on Hayden. I mean, y’all dated for like a year or whatever. He’s a good guy. A little uptight, but you seemed to work well together. When I heard, I thought it was a joke, but then after the press conference yesterday, I finally had to accept facts. You cheated on Hayden. Still shocked!”
“Massey, no,” Liz said uncomfortably. “You have the facts wrong.”
“Um . . . I think Brady Maxwell told everyone exactly what happened.”
“No. He said we were together and that we’re together now. We were not together while I was dating Hayden,” Liz said and then immediately felt shitty for the lie of omission. She swallowed the guilt that lodged in her throat.
“Wait, so you guys like broke up or something?”
Liz bit her lip. She hated what she was about to ask, but knew it was a necessity. “Is this conversation . . . off the record?” she whispered.
“Oh!” Massey said, looking guilty. “Yeah, sure.”
So, she had been interested in making this some kind of interview. Great. Liz wasn’t sure how much Massey would have actually written about, but she wanted to err on the side of caution.
“So . . . what happened then?”
Liz took a small breath. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but Brady and I had a relationship two summers ago. I left because I thought that I wanted more than he did. Well, it turned out that I wasn’t the only one. After I told Hayden about what had happened, we broke up and Brady and I ended up getting back together. It’s been a long week.”
“How did you end up getting back together . . . and get him to go public about it?” Massey asked. “I mean if you wanted more before . . .”
“That was actually his idea. It was already out that we’d been together. He wanted to keep us together, and the only way that would happen was to . . . I don’t know . . . claim me.” Liz tried to put on a strong face for Massey. “Plus, I really wanted this. I’ve never been happier.”
“But it was all in secret,” Massey pointed out. “How do you even know it’s going to work out now that it’s out in the open?”
That was the right question, wasn’t it? The only thing Liz could go on was past precedent. She loved Brady. She hadn’t been able to get over him. She wasn’t going to get over him. “I don’t, I guess. I just know how I feel about him and I know how I feel without him. It’s worth it to at least try.”
“But if it fails . . . then it will be all over the news again.”
“True,” Liz said with a shrug. “I’m telling you I can’t imagine my life without him. I’d rather risk a public scandal every day than to look back and wonder what would have happened.”
“But . . .”
“Can we go without the buts, Massey? I’ve kind of had a stressful weekend. I’d like to get back to some semblance of normal in my life.”
“But . . . do you think you’ll ever get back to normal?”
Well, that depended on the definition of normal. Maybe the change with Brady would become her new normal. She could live with that.
“I don’t even know what normal is,” she finally admitted. She hadn’t thought it was normal to be dating someone and always thinking of someone else. She hadn’t thought it was normal to hide her relationship or her feelings. She hadn’t thought it was normal to be miserable to give up someone she cared for. If those were normal, it would be better to try something out of the ordinary.
“Well, in case you weren’t aware,” Massey said, her voice still skeptical and cautious, “dating a congressman as a rising political journalist is not normal.”
Liz laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. “That I did know.”
“No, seriously.”
“I know,” Liz said, sobering. “I know there’s a fine line. But everything negative I wrote about Brady was before we started dating. And I’m not going to write about him now. I can just supervise.”
“Liz . . .” Massey said awkwardly, staring at the floor.
“What?” she asked.
“Um . . . about that.”
“About what?”
“I’m really sorry. I hate to do this. I know you’re so dedicated to the newspaper.”
Liz’s heart pounded. “Do what?”
“I think you should leave the paper,” she blurted out.
“What?” Liz gasped. She felt the blood drain out of her face. This was her world.
“It looks bad for us to have our editor in the news. It puts a stain on the newspaper as a whole. You have to understand.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“No, well, I can’t do that,” Massey said sheepishly. “I just . . . I mean, we hope that you’ll step down without us having to speak with anyone. I mean we only have two months to graduation. It would just be a temporary leave of absence.”
“A temporary leave of absence,” Liz said hollowly. “Temporary in that in a couple months I’m graduating and never coming back to the paper.”
“It’s best for everyone.”
Everyone but Liz. She was sure of that. How could it be better for her not to be at the newspaper?
“You can’t be serious.” But Massey sure looked serious.
“It wasn’t an easy decision.”
“An easy decision for who?” Liz snapped, her anger bubbling up. “As far as I’m concerned this is only a simple decision for you. Get rid of the problem and, let me guess—you become editor?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Massey said defensively.
“I’m sure, but you didn’t answer my question.”