fandomhigh | Newspaper Staff Meeting, 4 pm, Journalism Room

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Newspaper Staff Meeting, 4 pm, Journalism Room

"No responses yet for ads," Rikku said, setting down her usual box of donuts. "Any ideas how we can drum up interest?"

She frowned up at her own head. "Or what the heck is going on with all these hats?"

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Hattily.

Hatwards.

Hat-tastic.

Hat-o-rama.

Lee Adama

Have plague. Am slow today.

Cal Stephanides

"Article on the upcoming holiday of love?" Lee suggested. "For the couples and singles among us?"

Not that he had much useful advice.

"As for the ads, we could do legwork and go to the businesses and offer it up?"

Toby

"Okay, so one I failed at horrorscopes this week," Toby frowned. "Did you know that honesty kinda ruins the fun? And two, I am totes working on an article about Professor Skywalker from the interviews in Journalism class. Think I could submit it?"

Warren Peace

Ghanima didn't know what the students had against the hats, but she was there, ready and able to be of assistance.

"I have a theory," Cal said, "that the hats are just karma for Tuesday. I think I might write about that."

"Also," he added, "I apologize for the weird article last week. I was really, really, really sick."

"Sounds good," Rikku said. "I've had good luck with it, I gotta say. Neat holiday and all. That reminds me, I need a dress."

She chewed on her lower lip, and then nodded, for the rest of it. "Which businesses do you think we should hit?" she asked. "And how should we divvy it up? Oooh, fliers, maybe?"

"It totally does," she agreed. "You can't make things up when you have to be honest. Making them up is half the fun of horoscopes."

Well, it was.

"I don't mind if you submit it," she grinned. "That sounds really interesting. Did you get any good dirt?"

"We're being punished?" she frowned. "Wasn't Tuesday punishment enough? I wanted to hide in my room. It was awful."

She waved off the rest. "Weird is always okay with me," she grinned. "I mean, did you read mine? I'm just glad you're not actually on your deathbed."

Toby pulled out copies of the interview (http://always-damp.livejournal.com/6436.html) transcripts (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhigh/2014182.html?thread=128357350#t128357350) he'd typed up for class.

"I think it's some interesting stuff, even if Professor Jameson thinks it's like, tabloid fodder or something."

Rikku read it over. Twice. And by the second time, she had a hand clapped over her mouth to keep in the giggles.

"If you submit this," Rikku said, very very solemnly, "I will personally bake you cookies."

And probably mail a copy to Luke.

Being editor was awesome.

"I know, right? The haircare tips alone are priceless," Toby sighed dreamily.

"It's amazing," she said with a grin. "Very good job. I'll make up some kind of heading for it."

It deserved that extra zing.

"It felt like I was," Cal said, groaning as his hands went to his stomach and his head tilted back as if overwhelmed by the incredibly drama that was his illness. "And we're definitely being punished. The truth is a horrible thing, Rikku. It should be avoided, even when you can't help it."

"Maybe that's my new PSA. The Truth, and Why It's Bad."

"The truth is horrifying," Rikku said, shaking her head vigorously. "I mean, you can't even have polite lies like 'no, I don't mind,' and you can't soft-pedal anything you need to say, to try to make it hurt less, it's just, BOOM. Out there. I don't like people knowing what I'm feeling. Not unless I want them to."

"Excellent. I'll make sure to have it ready for next week!"

Cal's head bobbed emphatically in agreement. "And I don't care what anyone says, but people? Do not want to know the truth. Not the real truth. They're soooo much better off without it. Some truth, sure. Basic truths. Real truths? No way, man."

"They don't," she agreed quickly. "I mean, even the things you have to tell them, you can sugarcoat it some. Blunt, painful honesty doesn't help anybody. It's rude and it's hurtful and I can't believe nobody, like, broke up or stopped being friends, on Tuesday."

Cal went a little wide eyed, shaking his head at Rikku's last statement. And then he got that tight-lipped, almost wibbling look on his face that showed very clearly that someone had, and he would know, because he'd been involved.

"That's what I'm talking about. The Truth? Is Evil."

Rikku's eyes widened in panic. "Sorry?" she squeaked. "I didn't mean -- wow, that was -- okay, that's ..."

She huffed, waving an arm. "See? I don't need any help sticking my foot in my mouth. I do it just fine myself."

Cal waved his hand, then gave a slow puff of a sigh. "Nah, it's cool," he said. "Maybe I can convince myself that I'm an optimist and say it's probably for the best...e Losing a friend because I couldn't keep my mouth shut isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"My boyfriend came over," she said, uncertainly, "a-and he said kinda the same thing, where ... you know. Maybe honesty would help. If we said all the things we were too scared to, the rest of the time. Maybe those things were just going to fester, otherwise. We didn't fight or anything, but ... maybe you're right. I don't know."

"You think," Cal asked, after a moment of not saying anything, "it's weird if there's still a bit of...relief about it?"

"You mean ..." She hesitated. "You're relieved about losing your friend? That doesn't ... sound weird, no. It sounds like you kinda knew it would happen sooner or later and once you had to be honest with each other, it did."

"Not that," Cal said, shaking his head. "Just that I actually said some of the things that were there in my brain. Now that it's out, it's kind of...Zen in there now, or something. I feel bad, because I know she's pissed, but, at the same time, she kept pushing me, too. And I didn't exactly force her to sit there and listen to me."

She nodded, slowly. "I warned him to leave, but he stayed," she said. "It was ... it was kinda neat to just say some of that. I'd never let myself, otherwise. I hated that I said it, I hated that I couldn't stop myself, but it was ... kinda neat to just let it all spill out."

She offered him a weak smile. "Maybe we bottle too much."

Cal shook his head, but smiled, just a little back. "Nah, I'm perfectly fine with how much I bottle. I'm an expert bottler. When you do it as much as I have, you're nearly a professional."

"But, yeah, sometimes, it's kind of cool to have the bottle be shaken up, pop the lid, and watch the fizz foam over."

"I got angry," she said, eyes wide. "I mean, about some stuff that I never get angry about. 'Cause there's no point, is the thing. Getting angry won't change it. It won't help anything. But I yelled anyway. And I think I liked yelling."

"It's the adrenaline," Cal said, with a slight nod. "All the shouting and yelling gets your brain all...crazy excited."

There was a pause.

"Not dissimilar," he added after considering whether to or not, "to what goes off in your brain with sex."

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