Twenty-One
Trixie
It was a great week when I was able to turn in two articles that I was proud of in extremely different ways.
When I left the office for the weekend, I felt an immense satisfaction and elation rushed through me because I knew this was my purpose. I was doing exactly what I was meant to be doing, and if my luck would hold, I’d have the editor job next year and set myself up for the future I wanted after graduation.
It was late and I’d promised Wes I’d come over for some Thai. I was practically floating across campus in the glow of the street lights when I heard shouting to my left.
Reaching into my pocket, I felt for my small can of mace and uncapped it, as I tried to discern what was going on. I could tell from the voices that it was a man and a woman, and could hear
