Off the Record by Camryn Garrett (read more books TXT) 📕

can’t even bring myself to look at my phone. There’s stuff to eat—pastries and fruit on a table—but I just nurse a cup of coffee instead. It doesn’t seem to be helping. I’m tired enough to seriously consider dropping my head to Alice’s shoulder, but I know she’d probably kill me.

My eyes fix on Marius as the makeup artist brushes something onto his cheeks. I’m too far away to hear, but he says something to make her laugh. I almost smile.

“You look a little dead.”

I blink. A girl with dark hair and tan skin is standing in front of us, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s smiling at Alice, who grins back at her with recognition before jumping up to hug her. They do that thing a lot of girls do where they pretend that they haven’t seen each other in decades when it’s really only been days since they last spoke.

“I thought you weren’t coming?” the girl asks, pulling away. “You said you wouldn’t get up this early if I paid you.”

Alice glances at me. I frown.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” I say. “You could’ve just stayed at the hotel.”

“I decided to come,” Alice says, shrugging. “When will I get to watch The Morning Show live ever again?”

“A lot, if you decide to be an intern like me,” the girl says. “Is this your sister?”

Alice nods, holding her cup up to her lips. I try to smile at the girl, but it’s still a bit too early and the coffee hasn’t hit me yet, so I’m sure I look like I’m faking it. But she smiles back like she gets it.

“I’m Savannah,” she says. “Alice has been hanging out with me and some of the other interns while you do your journalism thing. That’s pretty cool, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Um, your intern thing is cool, too.”

Alice snorts into her cup. Savannah shakes her head at her.

“If running around and getting coffee for everyone counts, then sure,” she says. “Are you staying back here during the show?”

“Um, I think so,” I say. “I don’t know where else we would go.”

“Makes sense,” Savannah says. “They usually don’t have room on the soundstage for too many people at once.”

Part of me wishes that I’d be out there with Art and Marius, that I’d be able to see the magic of the show as it’s happening, or that I could even be in the audience. But I’m not part of the story. I’m the one who’s supposed to be documenting it. At the thought, I dig around in my bag for my notebook.

“She takes tons of notes,” Alice says by way of explanation. “Like, all the time.”

I frown as I start jotting down notes about my surroundings. I’m too tired to argue with her right now.

“I mean, she should, shouldn’t she?” Savannah asks. “If she’s a reporter and everything.”

“Thank you,” I say, a little too loud.

Marius glances over at me and waves. I smile back.

“Oh God,” Alice says. “Not this again.”

I give her the sharpest look I can. No way I’m letting her make a comment about Marius when Art Springfield is getting miked up five feet away.

Savannah glances between the two of us, a small smile on her face.

“Sisters are great, huh?” she asks.

“Oh, sure,” I say. “Absolutely. Completely.”

Alice rolls her eyes.

@JosieTheJournalist: losing a breath when they enter a room: romance or anxiety? a novel by me

“Let me know when you need me,” Alice says as our Uber pulls up to my stop. Marius and I are having our next interview at a park. I should’ve asked to change it to somewhere indoors. “I can call a car for you or something. Maybe you’ll get done early so we can just hang out.”

I raise a brow, glancing over at her. This is the first time she’s wanted to hang out with me in a while. I smile.

“Okay,” I say. “See you later.”

Maggie made me pack a coat and hat, but I didn’t bring gloves and boots like Mom suggested. We have all of that stuff from the last time it snowed in Georgia, but I don’t really use them, because they’ve never really been necessary. I just wish I had actually listened to her. As soon as I step outside the car, I’m pretty sure my fingers freeze.

The park is more crowded than I thought it would be on a snowy day. It is set up as a holiday market, with high black tables and stands selling waffles and bread. A faint melody plays as people murmur and huddle together. Little kids laugh and run around. Some aren’t even wearing hats.

For a second, I consider calling Ms. Jacobson to see if we can move the location, but then I see him. There are snowflakes caught in his curls. He’s sitting at a table by himself, somehow able to stand the cold metal chairs, reading a book. I recognize the cover without reading the title: Sister Outsider. I smile despite the cold.

He glances up then, mouth opening as his eyes lock on me. I remember that I’m wearing a jacket that isn’t heavy enough to shield me from the weather and that I’m shaking from the cold. I shove my hands into my pockets to make up for my lack of gloves. At least Marius seems prepared—just a slight flush to his cheeks. I, on the other hand, can’t feel my limbs.

“Come on,” he says, standing up and bopping his shoulder against mine. Normally it would send sparks throughout my body, but I can’t feel anything right now. “I know a better place for us to talk.”

The café is a few minutes’ walk away. I breathe a sigh of relief when we get inside, warm air enveloping us like a blanket. It seems too small for all of the people inside. People type on laptops and drink from mugs. The man at the counter, a dude with a nice Afro,