Crossing the Line
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CAROLE73
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First Assignment
APRIL
My name is April, and I used to be a political journalist. Then my local paper folded, and I had to reinvent myself in a whole new field: sports.
This morning is my first team meeting with the big boss, Nicolas. During my interview, he came across as a little tense, a little pushy, but I pretended not to notice. He has to be in his forties, and he always looks like heās bracing for something.
He carries himself stiff and straight, like the world has a personal grudge against him.
I take a seat at the long conference table, and my new coworkers watch me with open curiosity. I try not to stare back, but I can feel their eyes on meātheir judgment, maybe, or just their curiosity about what Iām going to bring to the team. Finally, the big boss walks in.
He flashes everyone a quick, almost mechanical smile before sitting down and getting started.
āIād like to introduce a new member of our team, April Curtis, our new sports reporter. Sheāll be replacing Andy, whoās moved on to New York.ā
A heavy silence settles over the room, and discomfort crawls up my spine. Then one of themāa man with a thick beardāclaps slowly, almost mockingly.
āPathetic. A woman for the sports sectionā¦ Couldnāt you do better than that, Nick?ā he says with a smirk.
My heart pounds, but I keep my expression neutral. Nicolas, like heās been expecting this, snaps his head toward him.
āShut up, Baltazar. Sheās more than qualified. I read her rĆ©sumĆ©, and itās perfect.ā Then he turns to me. āWhat were you covering again?ā
I swallow, but my voice comes out firm and proud. āPolitics.ā
Baltazar bursts into a loud, disdainful laugh. But Nicolas doesnāt let him have it.
āYeah, politics or sportsāsame thing. Always a winner and a loser,ā he says with a dry smile, like heās spinning the dig into his own joke.
Everyone forces a laugh, except me and Baltazar. Thatās fine. I already donāt like him. Nothingās going to change that.
Iām the grudge-holding type. There are two things I hate in this life: idiots and sports.
So when I agreed to become the paperās āsports reporter,ā I wasnāt exactly thrilled. But like they say, you have to eat and pay the bills, and this was the first job I landed.
And as for the idiots, Iāve already got one sitting right in front of me. Something tells me the world of sports is full of them. How does the saying go? All in the muscles, nothing in the head.
Nicolas loosens his tie and undoes the top button of his shirt, like the room just got too warm for him. Meanwhile, a coffeepot is making its way around the table, and when it reaches me, I pour myself a generous mug. I need it, especially after barely sleeping last night thinking about my first day.
I take a deep breath and a sip. The coffee is disgustingā¦whatever.
Suddenly, I notice everyone is staring at me. Iāve missed something. I wasnāt listeningātoo distracted by my coffee.
āSo?ā Nicolas says.
āSo what?ā
āI was asking if you knew about the big sporting event coming to the city.ā
āFootball?ā I throw it out there kind of randomly. I donāt know. Iām not really into sports.
He sighs, and of course itās the idiot, Baltazar, who answers.
āHockey! Weāre in the city of hockey!ā
āHockey. And youāre going to go set up an appointment right away with the number one player on the team, Samuel Bardan.ā
I write his name down and smile like an idiot.
āDo you at least know who he is?ā
āYes, of course.ā I lie so easily it shocks me. Iāll just look him up online later.
āThe goal is an interview and a special issue on the whole team,ā Nicolas tells me.
I nod, already telling myself this is going to be way more complicated than I expected. I take a deep breath and force myself to stay calm, even as a knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach.
An interview with Samuel Bardanā¦ I didnāt see this one coming at all. And now I really have to throw myself into a world I know nothing about.
Nicolas stares at me for a moment, then leans forward, his hands clasped on the table.
āYou know hockey, April, but itās not just about who scores goals. Itās a whole universe. Have you watched full games? Do you know why people lose their minds over guys with sticks and skates?ā
I feel cornered by his questions. I search for the right words, hesitating before I answer.
āI know the basics, but Iām not going to lie to you, Nicolas. Iāve never really followed the sport.ā
Silence. Nicolas stares at me, then nods, like heās thinking it over.
āThatās what I want to hear. The truth. But it means youāre going to have to dive in, April. Get out there. Get your hands dirty. This Samuel Bardan isnāt just a playerāheās the face of the team. His interview has to be flawless. No room for winging it.
āYouāre going to ask him about his career, obviously, but also about his role on the team. Why heās so important. You need to understand why everyone follows him, why everything rests on his shoulders. You have to push him to talk about his personal struggles, his relationships with the other players.
āYouāre there to dig, not to hand him a compliment session.ā
Iām still trying to digest all of this when he keeps going.
āBe careful with his answers, April. Donāt let anything slip past you. This could be a pivotal moment. If you can get him on more personal ground, itās the jackpot.ā
He stops, sizes me up for a beat, then straightens in his seat.
āAnd then you have to start with a broader piece. Not just Samuel. The whole team. What unites them, what divides them. Why they performāor donāt. Something that grabs people, you understand.ā
I feel more and more lost, but I donāt have a choice. āYes, of course.ā
He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes cold and piercing, before he takes a breath.
āThis isnāt just an interview, April. Itās an investigation. A mission. You have one month to finish it and publish it. One month. And you donāt have the luxury of screwing it up.ā
Every word he says feels like it weighs a ton. One month. I have one month to understand an entire sport, a team, and a player.
Itās terrifying. But I canāt fail. He stands up, gives me one last look, and his tone sharpens.
āGet ready. And most importantly, rememberāyouāre part of the team now. Thereās no way youāre giving up.ā
Before I can get a single word out, heās already heading for the door. I stand there, frozen, trying to digest everything he just dropped on me.
This interview, this assignmentā¦ I donāt even know where to begin. I glance over at the infamous Baltazar, whoās practically laughing in my face, shaking his head side to side. When I say heās an idiot, I mean it.
The woman next to me smiles. āHi, Iām Sheila. Fashion and beauty section.ā
āIām Aprilā¦ā
āSports section,ā she finishes, almost mocking me. Her eyes flick to my coffee cup. āItās disgusting. Heās cheap. We have a very, very tight-fisted but very, very demanding boss. And I really donāt want to pile on the pressure, but heād fire you in a heartbeat if he thinks youāre slacking.ā
āI donāt intend to slack.ā
āWell, thatās good, because you donāt exactly look motivated.ā
āI am, though.ā
āReally?ā
She stands and walks out, throwing Baltazar a little smile that gets under my skin. I down the coffee in one gulp. As bitter as it is, it should at least wake me up.
Then I head back to my office. Wellā¦office is generous. Itās a converted broom closet. But the important thing is that Iām alone, with no one around to distract me.
I open my laptop and type in the nameāSamuel Bardan. Iām going to dig up every single thing I can about him, and then Iāll figure out how to reach him for this fucking interview.
