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Academy, did not need a backup school.
"Are we done?" Dante asked.
"No," Lizzie bit off. This was the very reason she'd protested doubling the student
admission. This Dante Georgetown! Her hop, skip, and a jump to being a White House press
reporter. In jeopardy. Because of this guy?
"One last question," she said. "Since your attendance at this school was precipitated by the
new owners, would it be fair to say that another change in ownership might see you returning to
Exeter?"
Dante's jaw dropped open, and for a second, she saw something there she didn't expect.
Fear. Then his mouth snapped shut and irritation knit his brow. She leaned in, sensing a secret.
Who was this guy, really?
"Lizzie! I'm so sorry! Lizzie?"
Lizzie turned to the back of the room it was Georgiana calling her. But before Lizzie could
say anything, Dante took off in a flash and was at his sister's side.
"Are you okay?" he asked, dipping his head to speak to her. "Let me see."
Georgiana held out her digital recorder in the palm of her hand. Several shards of black
plastic had broken off it.
"Sorry." Josh ran his hand through his hair and gave a sheepish smile. "I think I broke it."
"There's a spare in the drawer behind you," Lizzie said. "Do you need any first aid?"
"I'm taking care of it," Dante snapped.
Josh reached over to pull the broken recorder from Georgiana's hand, and OMG, was his
finger tracing her wrist? Lizzie's jaw dropped at the overt flirtation, but before she could speak,
Dante grabbed Georgiana's hand and dragged her out of the room despite her pleas and protests.
Rick stood abruptly to follow, leaving a shaken Anne tapping her pen against a notepad.
* * *
"That could have gone better," Lizzie muttered under her breath to Anne after she'd finished
Josh's interview and finally calmed down the other staff members and gotten them back to work.
"I guess," Anne said distractedly, staring out into the hall. She handed Lizzie her recorder
with Rick's interview. "I'm just glad it's over."
"Not completely. We still have to interview the family and friends to finish the portfolio."
"Count me out."
"You don't seem to understand how newspapers work," Lizzie said amusedly. "I hand out
the assignments. You do them."
"Give me anything else. Please."
Lizzie sighed. She supposed it didn't matter. Anne didn't want to be in Journalism. She was
forced to be here as part of Bergie's evil little plan to screw Lizzie over. No point in punishing
Anne. "Can you finish writing up that bit on the Welcome Back dance?"
"Easily," Anne said.
Lizzie settled into her stool, pressed play on Anne's recorder, and twirled her pen.
After a few minutes, she hit stop. It was the most mortifying few minutes she'd ever listened
to a series of stilted questions and answers about Rick's class schedule.
"Do you have any experience doing interviews?" Lizzie asked.
Anne nodded, plucking an imaginary piece of lint off her sleeve. "I used to chair the student
applicant interviews."
"Then what explains this disaster?" Lizzie pressed the recorder closer to her ear and hit play.
Like that would make the interview any better. Once Rick had finished describing his sixth-
period syllabus, the conversation had died away. Beneath the hum of the recorder, all Lizzie
could hear was clacking keyboards and squeaking chairs.
Then Rick had finally started to speak again.
"How are you, Anne?"
Anne's ragged breath had cut through a short silence.
"Good."
"And your family?"
"They've been better."
More silence not that Lizzie was surprised.
"You look good. I mean, you always did. Or do."
"Oh."
The interview had ended abruptly as Georgiana cried for help so Lizzie turned off the
recorder.
"You know him," Lizzie said. "Anne, look at me. Do you know Rick?"
Anne breathed out heavily. She was staring at the page in front of her, her pencil drawing
aimless circles. She nodded.
"You know Rick& well," she pressed.
Anne looked past her, out the window, and nodded again.
Lizzie pulled out Rick's bio and studied it more carefully this time. "His family is from
Merrywood. You attended the same middle school." Lizzie looked back up at Anne, who was
still staring out the window. She was about to ask whether they dated, but Anne's eyes misted
over, and Lizzie bit back her question.
She didn't need to ask it. Had he dumped her? Cheated on her? Or maybe he just had to
leave for the Naval Academy. There was unfinished business between them either way, and the
best way to deal with unfinished business& was head on.
"You'll have to do the interview again," Lizzie said.
That comment brought Anne's eyes to hers. "Could you interview him instead? The dance is
so soon, and there's so much work. Besides, we both know journalism is your passion, not mine."
"What is your passion?" Lizzie asked. For the amount of time Lizzie had spent thinking
about Anne about how unfair her nepotism had been, about how oblivious she seemed to the
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