A group of friends tries to piece itself back together after losing its glue.
*****
It's a quiet October morning in Palo Alto, California, when the news break out--June Beaumont was...
JOURNALISM? IS THAT WHAT THEY'RE CALLING IT THESE DAYS?
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FELIX
I could hear a record scratch sound in my head.
Yep. That's me. You're probably wondering how I got myself into this situation.
I had never been a big fan of shopping. My entire family loved it, but even they wrinkled their noses at the most mainstream stories, which couldn't offer them the professional, expensive attire they loved so much. They'd be caught dead before being spotted in an H&M store.
What I was a fan of, however, was a good, provocative article for my newspaper. Therefore, when Georgina pitched the idea for a column on fast fashion for our December edition, right before Christmas, I knew that was the best thing anyone in that room could have said.
The November edition had sold reasonably well, better than everything we had put out since January, but we all knew the reason. I wasn't going to keep exploiting June's death to boost our sales, as it made me feel horrible—both by hurting June and by taking advantage of Sofia's own mourning period. I'd tried to apologize to her multiple times, but she refused to talk to me almost as much as she refused to look at me, so things could definitely be going better.
No one needed to point fingers at me. I knew just how badly I had messed up and I was determined to make it better any way I possibly could, but people also had to give me the opportunity to do so.
Georgina was a good distraction. I had tagged along to help her with her column, even though I wasn't that big of a fan of fast fashion myself and hanging out in a mall instead of supporting Grace during an ice-skating competition went against my 'trying to be and do better' plan. It wasn't like Georgina needed me that badly, but, considering she kept alienating herself by gossiping about other people on social media, I kind of felt like it was my duty to not let go of her hand.
I was the editor-in-chief of the newspaper. That meant I had to accept the fact that I was the leader of an entire team, made up of people who needed me and my guidance in one way or another, and it was time for me to do my job properly.
Then, I saw her.
Xena was at the mall, something her fashion designer mothers probably wouldn't approve of (unless she made her way inside one of the designer stores), and her posse followed everywhere. They were all there, except for Grace, which was suspicious enough on its own, as they'd probably had done what I hadn't and watched her compete. Leon was there as well, all battered and bruised.
They didn't see me, even though we were all standing in the middle of a crowded H&M. Georgina blabbered about some nonsense that had nothing to do with the article and more with how lonely she felt and all that, while I didn't have the heart to tell her that she had sort of brought that upon herself.
