With my brand new pen and notebook on the table in front of me, I watched as people filtered in and out of the coffee shop where I was working. I didn't want to be around Ryan or anyone at the Badger Herald, because if I was going to finally write Courtney's story, I wanted it to be no one's decision but my own. And I still wasn't convinced that I had it in me to sell out once again. I had felt terrible enough after I got one last article out of my situation with Corey.

But at the end of the day, Isabel was right that we needed to keep our readership up. But there was something that made my stomach turn when I thought about putting someone else's pain out in the world for numbers rather than my own.

I looked up with a realization. It wasn't my place to tell anyone else's story, especially when they specifically asked me not to do it. It was bad enough when I told my own story without future Layla's consent, in a purely selfish way. I couldn't do that to someone like Courtney. I had to be better than that.

In a moment of relief, I let out a breath, but that moment ended when another thought crossed my mind.

Well, now what was I supposed to write? Isabel needed a story, and I needed to get something in her hands fast.

Now that my decision was made, I got up and headed for the door with my gifts from Ryan and my tea so I could make it to my next class on time. But just as I was about to leave, a conversation caught my ear.

"I just don't know how we're going to replace Courtney so quickly. She was easily the smartest person on the team," a girl with red hair and really cute black tall boots said.

Courtney? That was certainly a coincidence. Were we thinking about the same one?

"Well, we're going to have to figure it out, or we won't be able to compete," a guy said.

I hesitated before jumping in. Courtney hadn't mentioned any extracurricular activities to me when we met, but she was also under the influence of several substances, so it wasn't like she and I had a proper introduction anyway.

I took in a breath. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear that you guys are missing someone named Courtney this semester. Is that right?"

The redhead nodded. "She's on our concrete canoe team, but she had something bad happen to her at a party last semester, and she's too traumatized to come back, at least for now."

I nodded. "I was there when that happened. Isn't it horrible?"

The guy with the carry-on mentality pulled out a chair for me to sit, and I shook my head. "I have class in a few minutes, but my name's Layla, and I write for the Badger Herald. I'd love to do a story about this club you're in. What was it called again?"

"Concrete canoe," he said, and he must have seen the confusion on my face, because he laughed and explained. "It's exactly what it sounds like. We build a concrete canoe and race other schools in it."

"How does that work?" I asked.

"Stop by and we'll show you," the girl said, and she scribbled a time and place on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "We need to find someone like her as soon as possible, so we'd love to have you."

I smiled. "Thank you so much. And I'm really sorry about what happened to her. Getting her interests out into the world is the least I can do. I'll see you there, then."

There must have been something to Ryan's get out in the world and find your own story theory. How lucky was it that I had come across a concrete canoe club to which Courtney once belonged?

That was right. Ryan. He needed to know that I had found us a story.

Last semester, Ryan would have been in class, but with a new schedule, I wasn't sure where exactly he was.

"Hey Layla," Ryan said as he picked up the call.

"I found us our next story. I think we can explain this in a way that will get Isabel to leave us alone for a little bit. I'll talk to you soon," I said.

I hung up without further explanation and left the coffee shop to go to my class.

I smiled to myself. I got a story and some chai tea. It was going to be a really good day.

***

I met Ryan outside the building where the concrete canoe team told me they had their meetings.

"Concrete canoe? Isn't that way too heavy to float?" he asked before he even said hello to me.

Well, it wasn't like I could judge him for being rude. I pretty much hung up on him earlier in the day.

"Well, obviously there has to be some way to do it, or else there wouldn't be a bunch of schools racing each other in them," I said.

"You're such a smartass, Layla," Ryan said.

I wasn't sure how I was a smartass for answering his question, but the two of us headed inside to get our questions answered not only for us, but for the people as a whole. But in reality, he and I both knew it was mostly for Isabel.

We peeked into a room with a group of about ten people gathered around a table, and when I knocked on the door, they turned to look up at us.

"Layla, right?" the redhead said and came over with her hand extended, and I realized that I didn't have her name.

Well, I was certainly on a bit of a rudeness streak on my quest for a story. My mother would be disappointed in me.

I nodded and shook her hand. "It's so nice to see you again. Is this the team?"

She nodded. "I'm Holly, you met Jon earlier, then there's—"

Holly continued naming names, but a familiar face was the only one I bothered to remember.

Deiondre was one of the football players I interviewed after Courtney's incident, and he had made it clear that I had done his boy Hansen dirty, even though Corey started it all in the first place.

Maybe it was going to be less of a good day than I had originally thought.

But I smiled and waved to everyone like I had been listening to their names, and Holly flipped her bright red hair over her shoulder and straightened her glasses.

I took that as my cue to introduce myself to the group. "Hi, everyone. I'm Layla, and this is Ryan. We're from the Badger Herald, and we're looking to do a story about what you're doing here, which seems so cool."

"You sure you don't want to write another article slandering my boy Hansen?" Deiondre asked.

I took in a breath and blinked a couple times. "I'm sorry about that, but that's not what we're talking about right now. I'm trying to help you find someone to replace Courtney."

"You're sorry about what you wrote about Hansen?"

"Well, no, but—" I began, but Deiondre interrupted me to talk to Holly.

"Is this really the only way we can find someone to join the team?"

Holly nodded. "Unless you have a better idea, then yes."

"Courtney would have come up with a better idea. I didn't know this was going to be such a distraction when we agreed to it," Jon said.

"I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about Courtney or your boy Hansen at all. The reason I'm here is because I want to write about the concrete canoe team. That's it," I said.

Jon leaned back in a chair with his arms crossed and looked at Holly.

"Let's just focus on what's right in front of us. There's no point in looking back," she said, and I nodded and got out my notebook.

"We'd actually like to talk to Deiondre if you wouldn't mind," Ryan said.

I turned to him. "He barely wanted to talk to us about the party."

But before I could even ask Ryan why we wanted to talk to Deiondre first of all people, Deiondre got up from the table despite his personal problem with me.

"I'll talk to him, but not you," Deiondre said.

There wasn't any point in arguing with him, especially since I had said that I wasn't there to talk about Corey, so I handed over my notebook to Ryan so he could jot down the important parts of their conversation. Even if I had managed to bite my tongue for the time being, it still didn't sit right that Deiondre was still holding a grudge for something that didn't even involve him.

But I let it go until I could speak to Ryan alone. "I'll just talk to Holly and Jon then," I said and left the two of them alone so they could chat.

Deiondre's boy Hansen was really screwing things up for me still, and it made my face warm and my stomach upset.

But like Holly said, I had to focus on what was right in front of me, so I swallowed my pride and went up to the table where they were all gathered. "Do you guys mind if I record our conversation?"

Holly agreed, and I began my questions. "So could you guys explain the physics of this to me like I'm five?"

"All you have to do is make sure the water displacement forces are equal to the weight forces of the canoe, and then it floats," Jon said, but that didn't exactly feel like an explanation for a kid.

"It's the Archimedes principle at work," Holly said, and I made a mental note to look that up when I sat down to write about it. Maybe there would be someone on the internet who could help me.

"And how do you do that with something as heavy as concrete?" I asked, and they pointed to their work in progress of a design on the table in front of us.

As they explained to me how the volume and buoyancy somehow made it happen, all I could think was that I was glad I gave Ryan the notebook instead of the recorder.

It would have been so much easier to just do the wrong thing and write about the party instead. I let out a sigh as quietly as I could. I chose the wrong day to try to be a better person. 

------------------------------------------------------

Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate your support.

So for today's question, if you could only eat one dish for the rest of your life, what would it be?

I would probably pick salad. It's healthy (well, sometimes), and you can change it up enough with different toppings and dressings that it wouldn't get nearly as boring as a lot of other foods. Plus, I'm from the Midwest in the United States, so we consider literally anything a salad. Potato salad, pasta salad, and fruit salad are all relatively tame, but there are some truly American concoctions we've come up with that fall under the "salad" category to us. It's a diverse dish here in Ohio.