Campus headlines and the Quarterback

3

The next afternoon, I deliberately arrived at the library fifteen minutes late. Carter was already sitting at a table in the corner. Several books were spread out in front of him, and his fingers were impatiently tapping on the tabletop.

"You're late," he said without looking up.

I pulled out a chair and sat down. "A symbolic gesture of protest."

Carter finally looked up. His blue eyes were particularly clear under the soft lighting of the library. "You know what? You're more stubborn than I thought."

"And you have a larger vocabulary than I thought," I retorted. Then I pointed at the books in front of him. " Introduction to Video Production? Social Media Communication Strategies? Did you stay up late last night doing your homework?"

Carter quickly closed the books. "I just picked them up randomly. So, video ideas? The principal wants to showcase the unknown aspects of students."

I took out my notebook. "I already have some ideas. We could interview the captain of the robotics club. She's also a member of the poetry club. Or that math genius who's actually a baking expert in his spare time..."

Carter frowned. "These are all too... safe. We need something more impactful."

"Such as?"

"Such as the cheerleader who's actually an international chess champion, or the lead singer of the school band who writes science fiction novels in private," Carter's eyes sparkled with excitement. "The greater the contrast, the better."

I had to admit that his idea was good. "Well, this is indeed more interesting. But we need to make sure we don't violate anyone's privacy like last time."

Carter's expression suddenly turned serious. "Regarding last time... I believe you didn't leak that recording on purpose."

This sudden trust caught me off guard. "Thank you. I'm really not that kind of person."

"I know," Carter said softly. "I've read all your investigative reports. You... stick to your principles."

My cheeks suddenly felt hot, and I quickly lowered my head and pretended to organize my notes. "So, what's the theme of the first video?"

We spent two hours discussing plans, arguing, compromising, and arguing again. Carter was more creative than I thought, but also more stubborn. When we finally reached an agreement, the library was about to close.

"Shall we meet at the same time tomorrow?" Carter stretched. His T-shirt rode up, revealing a section of his abdominal muscles, and I forced myself to look away.

"Sure," I quickly packed my things. "I'll go talk to Sarah from the robotics club about the shooting permission."

When I walked out of the library, it was already dark. I was surprised to find that Carter was following me.

"What do you want?" I asked warily.

"To walk you back to your dormitory," he said matter-of-factly. "It's so late."

"I can take care of myself, thank you."

Carter raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Suit yourself, Miss Reporter."

He turned and walked in the direction of the athletes' dormitory, while I walked towards the girls' dormitory. But halfway there, I realized that I had left a reference book in the library. Considering that I needed it for my final paper, I had to turn back.

Most of the library was already dark, and only a single lamp was still on in the classical literature section. I tiptoed towards the seat where we had been, but stopped abruptly at the corner

Carter was sitting in the corner of the classical literature section, intently reading a thick book. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his lips were moving soundlessly, as if he were silently reciting the words. Several notebooks were also spread out in front of him, filled with dense and neat handwriting.

This was not the Carter Wilson I knew at all. There was no arrogant smile, no exaggerated gesture, just pure concentration and... intelligence. I held my breath, not sure whether to sneak away quietly or pretend I hadn't seen him.

Just then, Carter looked up, and our eyes met in the dim light. His expression quickly changed from surprise to defensiveness.

"I... just came back to get my book," I explained clumsily, pointing to the seat where we had been before.

Carter closed the copy of The Odyssey in his hand. "Okay."

An awkward silence spread. I should have taken the book and left, but curiosity got the better of me. "Are you doing extra reading in classical literature?"

Carter shrugged, and his voice became lower. "Every Wednesday night when there's no one in the library... this is my... habit."

"Since when?"

"Since junior high school," he hesitated for a moment, then added. "My grandmother was a professor of classical literature. She used to tell me these stories when I was a child."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. "It's... cool."

Carter suddenly laughed. "'It's cool'? Is that the best the ace reporter of the school newspaper can come up with?"

"Hey!" I pretended to be angry, but couldn't help laughing. "Give me some time to organize my words, okay?"

Carter closed the book and motioned for me to sit down. "Since you've discovered my secret... do you want to hear the real story of The Odyssey? Not the boring version in the textbooks."

I sat down, and curiosity overcame my reason. "I'm all ears."

Over the next hour, Carter vividly told the adventures of Odysseus. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and his gestures were exaggerated yet just right. I found myself completely captivated and even forgot about the time.

"So you see," Carter concluded. "Odysseus wasn't just a warrior. He was a thinker, a man who overcame difficulties with his wisdom."

"Just like you?" I blurted out, then immediately regretted it.

Carter's expression became complicated. "No, I... I'm just a football player. My dad always says that thinking is a pastime off the field, and winning on the field depends on instinct and muscle."

This was the first time I had heard Carter talk about his family, and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice that was hard to detect.

"But you're clearly good at both," I said softly. "Why do you have to choose?"

Carter looked at me, and something in his eyes made my heart race. "In this school? In the kingdom of football? No one cares if the quarterback can recite Homer's epics. They only care if you can lead the team to victory."

"I care," as soon as the words came out, I regretted it and quickly added. "I mean, as a reporter, I care about the truth. And clearly, Carter Wilson is much more complex than he appears on the surface."

Carter suddenly leaned in, so close that I could smell the mint candy on his breath. "Emma Green, are you complimenting me?"

I quickly leaned back, and the chair made a harsh scraping sound. "Don't get carried away, Wilson. I'm just stating the facts."

Carter burst out laughing, and his laughter echoed in the empty library. "You know what? I'm starting to enjoy working with you."

"Don't get used to it," I grabbed the book I had left behind and tried to keep a serious expression. "See you tomorrow, Quarterback."

When I walked out of the library, the corners of my mouth involuntarily turned up. Maybe, just maybe, this forced video project collaboration wouldn't be as bad as I had imagined.

The next day during lunchtime, I was discussing the final project with Liz in the cafeteria when a tray "thumped" down on the empty seat next to us.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Carter stood there, his blond hair almost shining in the sunlight.

Liz's eyes widened like saucers. "Of... of course not!"

I frowned. "Is there something urgent? We're only having a meeting this afternoon."

Carter sat down and took a bite of his sandwich. "Nothing urgent. I just thought partners should get to know each other better, right?"

Liz kicked my foot under the table frantically, and I pretended not to feel it.

"As you like," I turned to Liz and continued our conversation. "So, about that sociology paper..."

But Carter interrupted. "You're writing a sociology paper? About what?"

I looked at him in surprise. "Are you really interested?"

"Hey, I've read The Republic," Carter put on a fake hurt expression. "Although I guess in your eyes, football players can't read?"

Liz gasped, and I felt a twinge of guilt. "I... I didn't mean that."

"I'm just kidding," Carter grinned. "But seriously, what's the topic?"

"How social media reinforces stereotypes," I hesitated before answering. "Like how athletes are all supposed to be simple-minded muscle men."

Carter nodded, unexpectedly seriously. "That's interesting. Aristotle said, 'We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.' People always mistake habits for essence."

Liz and I stared at him in amazement.

"What's wrong?" Carter asked innocently. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No... it's completely right," I said slowly. "It's just... I didn't expect you to quote Aristotle."

Carter winked. "There are more than just sports magazines in the library, Green."

Liz finally found her voice. "You two... when did you become so friendly?"

"We're not—" I immediately denied.

"Just a working relationship," Carter said at the same time, and then we looked at each other awkwardly.

Just then, the campus broadcast came on. "Ms. Emma Green, please report to the principal's office immediately. Ms. Emma Green, please go to the principal's office."

I stood up in confusion. "I wonder what this is about."

Carter also stood up. "I'll go with you."

"No need—"

"Partners, remember?" Carter insisted.

Liz looked at us with that strange smile that said "I know something you don't". "Go ahead. I'll clean up your tray."

On the way to the administrative building, Carter suddenly said, "Your friend is quite interesting."

"Liz? She's the best photographer on the school newspaper."

"No, I mean the way she looks at us," Carter laughed. "It's as if we're the protagonists of her favorite reality show."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be narcissistic, Wilson. Not everything revolves around you."

"Oh, but some things do," Carter said mysteriously. "Just wait and see."

In the principal's office, Ms. Pierce handed us an envelope. "The principal is on a sudden business trip, but he left this for you."

I opened the envelope, and inside was a list and a schedule.

"What's this?" Carter leaned over to look. His shoulder was pressed against mine, and the warmth was distracting.

"A shooting plan... and budget approval!" I said in surprise. "He approved all the people we wanted to film, even that baking math genius!"

Carter took the schedule. "Wow, he even arranged the filming equipment and the editing room. It seems the principal is really serious about this."

Ms. Pierce added, "He hopes the first video can be released next week. And..." She handed me another envelope. "This is for you, Ms. Green."

I opened the envelope, and inside was a note and a key. The note said, "Green—Use this to record the truth. Approved by the principal's office." The key had a label on it: Media Room A.

"Wow," Carter whistled. "The principal really values this project."

I clenched the key tightly, suddenly feeling a sense of responsibility. "We'd better not mess this up."