On the Record (Record #2)(17)

The benefit of seeing her professor all the time was that sometimes she gave Liz ideas for what to write about or looked over the copy before she turned it in. A lot had changed since last summer, when Liz had been terrified of getting a C in her class.

“Thank you, Liz,” Professor Mires said, taking the paper out of her hand. Her professor had dropped the formality of calling her Miss Dougherty once Liz started working for her, but Liz still couldn’t get used to calling her Lynda. “Will you stay after so we can review the incoming submissions for the colloquium together?”

“Sure.” She had been expecting that. Last semester they had put together panels, and the call for papers had gone out near the end of the semester. Professor Mires had also sent some personal invitations to prominent professors in the field, journalists at top newspapers and news broadcast venues, as well as some politicians. Since then they had been flooded with inquiries and responses to their call, and Liz had been tasked with sifting through the mountain of messages.

The rest of the class slowly filtered out, leaving only the papers of students who hadn’t shown up. Liz’s was sitting at the top, and she grabbed it, reading through the notes. She had received an A. From the looks of the students who had left before her, not many others had. Another benefit of taking Professor Mires’s summer course.

Once everyone left, Liz followed the other woman back to her office. She took a seat across from the professor and waited as the computer booted up.

“That was great work this week,” Professor Mires said.

“Thank you,” Liz said cautiously. Those words normally came with a but.

“Do you feel challenged in my class?”

Oh boy! It wasn’t that she didn’t feel challenged, but she enjoyed the subject so much that it didn’t feel so much like work.

“Um . . . yes?” she said, it coming out more like a question. “This is the subject I want to move into. I find it very interesting and valuable for my future.”

“Good. Good,” Professor Mires said absentmindedly as the computer brightened before her eyes. She took the distraction to filter through her emails and Liz just waited. “This colloquium is very important to me and to the university. It is truly part of my life’s greatest work to be able to bring together my colleagues along with prominent journalists and politicians to foster more research and development, as well as the potential for great educational and networking opportunities for everyone involved. I want everyone to benefit from this, and I want you to participate.”

Liz sat frozen. How could she participate more than she already was?

“I would love for you to present some of your own research at a special topics in undergraduate research in political journalism on Friday afternoon.”

“Me?” Liz asked, excitement bubbling up in her chest.

Professor Mires looked back at her from behind her horn-rimmed librarian glasses with a smile. “Yes. I thought I would include your final research paper for the semester. Of course, that would mean it would be due a couple weeks early, but we could work with the preliminary drafts, if that suits you.”

“That would be . . . wow,” Liz said, speechless.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes! Absolutely.”

Professor Mires’s face brightened further. “Are you sure you’re set on becoming a reporter? You would do wonderfully in graduate school.”

Liz’s head buzzed with the compliment. “I’m open to different options, but I’ve always wanted to be a journalist.”

“Well, don’t rule grad school out,” she said with a nod of her head. “Now go on. That’s all I wanted to talk about. You can respond to these emails tomorrow during your research hours.”

Liz blew out a sigh of relief. She really just wanted to get home and see Hayden. Massey was covering the paper this afternoon, so Liz had the night off.

“Thank you again,” Liz said, before darting out of the room.

When she left, she was walking on cloud nine, with a bounce in her step and everything. Liz took the stairs two at a time and pulled out her phone to text Victoria. She was supposed to meet with her after class to walk home, but she had forgotten to let her know she would be late. She jotted out the message to ask her to wait.

As she hit Send, her phone started ringing. Shit! Had she had that on loud all class?

Then Liz noticed the name flashing on the screen. Justin. That wasn’t a name she had seen in a while. After he had gotten a DUI last summer, lost his scholarship, and left the school, no one had really heard much from him except to know that he was taking a semester off to “get his life back together.” Sometimes he didn’t even return the messages she left for him, which was why she wasn’t expecting him to call back now.

“Justin, hey! How have you been?” Liz asked.

“Hey, Liz. Not too bad actually. Yourself?”

“Good. Professor Mires is working me into the ground and Hayden wants me to be editor-in-chief next year, but you know, nothing big.”

Justin laughed. “You still dating Lane?”

She hadn’t heard from Justin in weeks. “Yeah. We’re still together. What’s up?”

“I’m coming into town for work in a couple weeks. Do you want to catch lunch next Friday?”

“Sure,” she said immediately.