Cam smiles. "Oh, and we have cool stuff like pizza Friday and a pool table and PlayStation and Xbox in the common room. We’ve even got Wii. And a terrific sound system, of course."
"I can work with that." I hitch one shoulder noncommittally. Cameron laughs and we roll out to the sunny afternoon. He immediately lights a cigarette and a pang of regret pierces through me. I would love to come home today and smoke a joint, take the edge off, but I know that I won't. Weed is no longer a part of my life, with or without Ty in the picture. We make our way to a local coffee shop and get our coffees, then Cam motions for me to follow him back to the office. We walk down the hallway but continue to talk. It's nice, knowing he can't examine my face while I answer his questions. It's less intimate, somehow.
"So when can you start?” Cam asks as he pushes his office door open. I curl my fingers around the hot paper cup, thinking about Ned’s. I don’t want to leave there. But I know I’d be stupid to turn down this opportunity.
“I'll need to check with my current employer, but I think a month's notice would be sufficient for them.” My heart pounds in my ears.
“And what do you think about us hiring you?” He turns around to face me before we enter his office. His eyes sparkle behind his hipster glasses
“I think you're doing the right thing. I'm kind of pleasantly surprised with my journalistic abilities.” I feel the smile spreading across my face. I discovered that I'm good at something these past few months, and I can't wait to show it off to the world.
Cameron grins and motions for me to take a seat in front of him. We're back to square one. He is staring at me. I'm staring back. Baby, I got my staring lessons from a fighter. I will stare back at you right until my eyes bleed.
“You and I are going to get along just fine. And you’ll meet a lot of awesome people here. My friend, Emilia, is the editor of the culture section, and I’m sure this one’s right up your alley. You can contribute to the cultural section too. Your portfolio will pile up quickly.” He seems to be at ease with our constant eye contact.
“Wow, I’d really like that.” I don't know how much fun it's going to be working on sports items, but if I ever get anywhere near culture and music, I just know I'll thrive.
“Well, then, Blaire, tell your employer you’re done serving drinks. Welcome to the Diablo Hill family.” Cameron winks. And for the first time since Vegas, I’m actually smiling not just out of politeness but for real.
Cam wastes no time throwing me in the deep end. He ignores the fact that I still need to hand in a month's notice and fills me in on a piece he wants to publish this month—an editorial article about a new performance enhancing drug named Exo. He tells me Exo stimulates the production of red blood cells and is very popular among athletes, even though it's been proven that the medication, originally invented to treat cancer patients after chemo, increases the risk of death. In fact, Exo stimulates the growth of certain tumors, so by using Exo, a lot of athletes are risking their lives every day, just to get better, stronger and faster at what they do.
"The article is not about Exo itself. Exo is just the entry point. The article is about the psychological difference between competitive athletes and the rest of the population. We're interviewing a bunch of anthropologists and sport psychologists about this phenomenon. It's interesting how athletes will completely disregard their health for their sport. Sell their souls to the devil, so to speak."
You can say that again. I suppress a grunt. I'm guessing Cam would be head over heels to discover that Jesse Clement of XWL used steroids, and that Ty Wilder of the same MMA league pimped his body to get fights. But I'm afraid my loyalty lies firmly with the two fighters. I'm not even sure why, but the need to protect their secrets is way stronger than my need to impress my new boss.
"And I'm guessing there are plenty of examples," I say.
Cam nods excitedly. His blue eyes gleam. "Performance enhancing drugs are just the tip of the iceberg. People will go to great lengths to get to the top, and I mean bribery, blackmail, a ton of things that haven't been addressed yet. Athletes are a different breed. They don't think like us, they don't act like us. They make bigger sacrifices. It's just the way it is."
"Yup, the list could go on forever." I press my lips to the rim of my cup. Cam is pressing way too many sensitive buttons right now.
"So what's the argument of the piece?"
"That maybe it's time to cut athletes some slack, because, well, let's admit it, they seem to be wired entirely differently. Look, this is your brain." He opens the lid to his coffee cup. "And this is an athlete's brain." He takes my cup and opens it too. Both cups are nearly empty. Then he starts throwing candy bar wraps and an old piece of tissue he had tucked in his pocket.