Chapter 4: What is needed is needed.
870 Words
Ezra
She’s not getting rid of me that easily.
Hailey walks like she has somewhere better to be and zero interest in the fact that I’m still behind her. I match her pace anyway. Every step pulls at the bruise along my ribs, a dull reminder of yesterday that I refuse to acknowledge out loud.
“You don’t look like the type who enjoys circling the same point,” I say. “So I’ll make it simple.”
She doesn’t slow down.
“You want me to take the article down and tell everyone you’re innocent,” she says without looking at me. “That’s the whole speech, right?”
I stop for half a second. She really doesn’t waste time.
“Something like that.”
“Then the answer is still no.” She adjusts the strap of her bag and keeps walking. “Stop following me.” I catch her elbow carefully, just long enough to make her turn. The look she gives me could freeze water.
“Don’t,” she says.
I’m not asking you to become my personal defender.” I keep my voice low. “I’m asking for a counter-piece. Or a clarification. Something that stops the investigation from treating me like the decision’s already been made.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because the version that went out isn’t the full story.”
She lets out a short breath that isn’t quite a laugh. “That’s what every person I write about says.”
She pulls her arm free and starts walking again. I follow.
We end up near the main lecture building. She stops beside one of the stone pillars and looks across the courtyard. I follow her line of sight and feel the same click from earlier settle deeper.
Elias is at his easel. Noah, the lacrosse captain, has just walked up and said something that makes Elias smile.
Hailey’s posture changes in a way most people would miss. She goes still. Focused.
I step up beside her.
“Which one?” I ask.
She doesn’t look at me. “Which one what?”
“The painter or the lacrosse captain. Which one are you watching?”
That gets her attention. Her eyes cut to mine, sharp and cold.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m observant.” I keep my tone even. “And right now I’m offering you something useful. You help me limit the damage from that article, and I’ll help you with whatever this is.” I nod toward the two guys across the courtyard. “Access. Introductions. Cover if you need it. I’m good at getting people to look the other way.”
She stares at me for a long moment.
“You’re offering to play matchmaker,” she says flatly.
“I’m offering leverage. You clearly want something over there. I can make it easier. In exchange, you stop actively burying me.”
Hailey’s jaw tightens. For a second I think she might actually consider it. Then she shakes her head once.
“I don’t make deals with criminals who think it's easy to cover up the truth than admin their mistakes.”
“You already published the wrong thing. Isn't integrity a big deal for you?”
“And I’m not interested in cleaning up after you.”
She turns to leave. I step with her, blocking her way partially
“Hailey.”
She stops at the sound of her actual name. I file that away, calling her attention back to me.
“I’m not going to disappear just because you keep walking away,” I say. “I can’t afford to. The hearing date isn’t moving, and every day that article sits out there makes it worse. So you can keep saying no, but you should know I’m not done.”
She looks at me for another beat. Irritation and calculation and annoyance move across her face in quick succession.
“Then you’re going to be disappointed for a long time,”
She walks off toward the garden path. A guy I don’t recognize calls her name, and she actually smiles when she reaches him. The shift is so quick it almost doesn’t look like the same person.
I stand there with my duffel bag over one shoulder, watching her leave in a hurry with the person who slips a hand around her waist.
I'm gonna have to speak with the guys later today and hand over the new strategies for our upcoming game but none of it matters as much as the fact that Hailey still holds the only clean way out of this.
She thinks this is over.
It isn’t in the least. My entire career and my brothers' are on the line here and I'll make sure it isn't affected because of some college wannabe journalist.
I pull out my phone and open a new contact. I type her name correctly this time.
Hailey Nirvana.
Then I message Gina in the media department. She's been pestering me for a while now for a favor and now is the perfect time to cash that in.
I need a number.
And I need it before the end of the day.
- Writer
