The Boy She Craves

1

Annalise was infamous for taking a back seat roster in her life. She'd liked to see it as an exchange, she didn't spontaneously act out the ordinary, and in return nothing out the ordinary happened.

So you could only imagine the utter trance that induced her when Carlton, the Carlton Tarmus had accepted her as the Second in line assistant of Sherdon's one and only News Club.

Well she'd figured the president himself wasn't idly signing off on the new recruits, but she'd at least assumed he'd have to skim through it, and in some point he'd come across her name, Unsocial, ragged and newly loner Annalise Jennings, and he'd approved.

Annalise looked over her outfit the third time that day, she'd worn her favorite thick red flannel and her good shoes, it wasn't like it had been any different from what she'd worn the day before, according to prior instances one could even say Annalise had dressed up, but nothing seemed up to par now that she thought of Carlton.

Annalise wondered if he would remember.

All of a sudden, she felt an itch she couldn't quite relief.

In odd times, Annalise would hear Sasha's voice, and not in the encouraging tone she had come to expect from her best friend but rather in a low hum that had urged her to do things the other girl wouldn't quite say herself.

This time it said,

You can't go Anna.

When she heard it for the first time that week, Annalise thought she was in the process of relapsing again. The last time something like this happened-Annalise raced to the door.

"Whenever it feels like you can't take it, change the course of your thoughts. Conjure the most positive of them."

Unbeknownst to her therapist, it was the only thing that she for the life of her could remember from their afternoon sessions.

So Annalise muttered under her breath, until her brain went numb and the words sounded like distant relatives of themselves, Carlton Tarmus.

***

The nerves hadn't settled down in the morning periods, and every tick of the clock after, Annalise could swear her intestines had been kneading itself like morning dough.

It felt real before, but now in-front of the door, written finely in block print, Sherdon News, Annalise had never felt so focused in her life. Every jerk of her hand, every breath that escaped her lips, every sweat that oozed from her pores, felt accounted for.

It made thinking hard and the more she focused the more she felt her movements were inhuman.

In a sudden instance, or what felt like a scene from a 90s horror film, the door had been pulled ajar.

A brunette smiled, and if she had found Annalise odd, her features hadn't let it slip.

"Your the first one here!" She said, her tone as eccentric as her accessories. She wore two large goldfish shaped earrings and her harsh fringe seemed to be cut an inch shorter and in an awful hurry. It was not everyday Annalise got to meet someone who looked quite themselves in Sherdon's antique black and white uniform.

"The lot of them don't got the drive, nor the interest in writing," She leaned in closer, "They're all here for you know who."

Annalise jumped at the sudden closeness, or maybe it had been at the revelation she was them.

"I'm supposed to start today. Hi I'm Annalise."

"Jasmine, and I figured. Your the girl who managed to impress Carlton. Your practically a legend round these areas. I, for one loved your take on the prevalence of sexuality in the media."

Annalise let out a laugh, and only when it had been too late to take it back, had she noticed it to have been robotically fake. And for a few torturous instances, her brain had played it back to her.

Carlton Tarmus had liked her paper.

Annalise quickly mouthed a thank you and pushed the thought to the back of her head. If she'd so as much allowed herself to whisper it, she'd known too well the consequences.

"It's rare these days to see someone who's got the skill to make you sit and read. We won't be writing anything as controversial like your paper but I hope we can accommodate your intellectual mind."

"Oh please," Annalise snorted, "Bob Rinswet would be turning in his grave if he'd heard you."

"Ah, yes. The great men of literature. I'm sure you'd have a take on that."

Annalise shook her head. "Only if you ask me if I deem their work to be a result of thievery."

"And on what grounds are we basing this on?"

Gray eyes, the pigment in them like the silver lodgings of a priceless artifact. It had been a startling contrast to his well behaved black hair, that had been pulled back to reveal his sharp well-defined face.

A smile had graced his lips, and for a moment Annalise toes wasn't touching the ground anymore.

"Mustn't we maintain an objective standpoint as journalists." He continued on, fabricating a seat from a stack of boxes.

"Carlton," Annalise had said before she could even think it.

"What do you think?" He said, nodding in her direction.

"About maintaining an objective standpoint? I don't think that's possible, as journalists we are given the responsibility to portray issues and events in an unbiased manner, but as humans we are naturally equipped with opinions and personal beliefs," Is what Annalise wanted to say, instead she stood there, in complete disarray.

"Don't corner the girl into your extremist ways Carlton," Jasmine said once it was clear Annalise wasn't going to reply.

Carlton's lips had pressed neatly together to what seemed to be a polite smile, and he said something along the lines of we'll discuss this later before he walked off to his office.

Annalise knew they would not be discussing this later, or anything for that matter. She couldn't believe she blew her one chance to say something clever.

In all of her imaginations, in the hundreds of scenarios, nothing could prepare her to be standing across from him, slowly as the excitement drained from his eyes.

Jasmine clapped her hands, as if signaling a wrap. "Great! Let's get you started."

In the wake of her crisis, Annalise hadn't even noticed the crowd of people pooling in.