by the cup, trying to stay focused on the
project, and it wasn't helping the fact that I felt ill. But I needed it at
that moment.
I started off the project by
doing some research. I wanted to see what the league and Bennett's coach were
saying about the situation and whether Bennett had given a quote at that time.
Everything I read was so negative and it made me feel that much more terrible
for Bennett and what he was going through. I couldn't imagine going through the
same thing, and I wondered what my dad would say about the whole thing. He
surely would have heard about the incident and I wondered if I should call him
for his opinion.
I wanted to get as much
information in the story as I possibly could before I had to call Bennett. I
hated bothering him, and I was sure he was going to be equally unimpressed that
I was writing the story. I had still not heard from him, which I thought was
pretty weird, all things considered. I would have to talk to him about the
story and I wasn't sure how that conversation was going to go. I hoped it
wasn't going to jeopardize the growing relationship that had been going so well
just that afternoon.
I worked on the article
tirelessly for hours, trying to tweak things as best I could. I hoped I could
finish it without ever having to contact Bennett, but I just didn't have enough
information. I also had to continuously correct paragraphs as I found I was
being biased. How could I not be? I couldn't imagine that the story was true,
but yet here we were. I had to remain neutral and found that very difficult to
do.
In the end, I knew I had to call
him. It was only fair. I wasn't sure how he would react to hearing about my
article, knowing that I had written about his situation without even discussing
it with him first. That would probably be worse for him than finding out I knew
and was being forced to write about it.
I needed to get Bennett's side of
the story, that was the only fair thing to do and I hoped that he would
appreciate my effort.
I made the call and listened to
the phone ring. I wondered if he was screening his calls and whether he just
was not going to talk to me. It made my heart sting painfully at the thought of
him ignoring my calls. Just when I was about to hang up, he answered.
“Bennett, hi.”
“Emmi, hi, how are you? I guess I
should have called you.”
“You guess?” I chuckled. “Yeah,
maybe.”
“Did you hear the news?”
“Yes I did. Embarrassingly enough
I had to hear it from my editor and the entire staff at the paper. Everyone was
super surprised that I didn't already know. Weird, right?”
“I guess I should have stayed
around and explained things to you.”
“You say guess a lot. Yes,
Bennett, I would think that would have been obvious. I thought we had a great
time and you bolted after a very unusual conversation. Instead of clueing me
in, I had to find out from someone else. We really aren't off to a very good
start here.”
There was a long silence on the
other end of the line. I wasn't even sure if he was even still there. The fact
that he wasn't saying anything to me wasn't helping my annoyance level.
“Anyways, if you want some even
better news, I am being forced to write the story about it.”
“What? No way. What the hell?”
“My thoughts exactly.
Unfortunately, I don't have a choice in the matter, big surprise there. For
some reason, they think it's okay to have me write something so personal and damaging
to you. I'm calling, Bennett, because I need to get your side of the story.”
“This is ridiculous.” His voice
was angry and a little gruff. He didn't sound like the same man I had spent
time with in my bed.
“This isn't my fault, Bennett. I
don't want to write about it. But story or not, were you never planning on
calling me and telling me? Don't you think that is a little rude, to say the
least.”
“Yeah, I get that, Emmi, but I
have had a lot on my plate since that call. Telling you wasn't first on my
priority
project, and it wasn't helping the fact that I felt ill. But I needed it at
that moment.
I started off the project by
doing some research. I wanted to see what the league and Bennett's coach were
saying about the situation and whether Bennett had given a quote at that time.
Everything I read was so negative and it made me feel that much more terrible
for Bennett and what he was going through. I couldn't imagine going through the
same thing, and I wondered what my dad would say about the whole thing. He
surely would have heard about the incident and I wondered if I should call him
for his opinion.
I wanted to get as much
information in the story as I possibly could before I had to call Bennett. I
hated bothering him, and I was sure he was going to be equally unimpressed that
I was writing the story. I had still not heard from him, which I thought was
pretty weird, all things considered. I would have to talk to him about the
story and I wasn't sure how that conversation was going to go. I hoped it
wasn't going to jeopardize the growing relationship that had been going so well
just that afternoon.
I worked on the article
tirelessly for hours, trying to tweak things as best I could. I hoped I could
finish it without ever having to contact Bennett, but I just didn't have enough
information. I also had to continuously correct paragraphs as I found I was
being biased. How could I not be? I couldn't imagine that the story was true,
but yet here we were. I had to remain neutral and found that very difficult to
do.
In the end, I knew I had to call
him. It was only fair. I wasn't sure how he would react to hearing about my
article, knowing that I had written about his situation without even discussing
it with him first. That would probably be worse for him than finding out I knew
and was being forced to write about it.
I needed to get Bennett's side of
the story, that was the only fair thing to do and I hoped that he would
appreciate my effort.
I made the call and listened to
the phone ring. I wondered if he was screening his calls and whether he just
was not going to talk to me. It made my heart sting painfully at the thought of
him ignoring my calls. Just when I was about to hang up, he answered.
“Bennett, hi.”
“Emmi, hi, how are you? I guess I
should have called you.”
“You guess?” I chuckled. “Yeah,
maybe.”
“Did you hear the news?”
“Yes I did. Embarrassingly enough
I had to hear it from my editor and the entire staff at the paper. Everyone was
super surprised that I didn't already know. Weird, right?”
“I guess I should have stayed
around and explained things to you.”
“You say guess a lot. Yes,
Bennett, I would think that would have been obvious. I thought we had a great
time and you bolted after a very unusual conversation. Instead of clueing me
in, I had to find out from someone else. We really aren't off to a very good
start here.”
There was a long silence on the
other end of the line. I wasn't even sure if he was even still there. The fact
that he wasn't saying anything to me wasn't helping my annoyance level.
“Anyways, if you want some even
better news, I am being forced to write the story about it.”
“What? No way. What the hell?”
“My thoughts exactly.
Unfortunately, I don't have a choice in the matter, big surprise there. For
some reason, they think it's okay to have me write something so personal and damaging
to you. I'm calling, Bennett, because I need to get your side of the story.”
“This is ridiculous.” His voice
was angry and a little gruff. He didn't sound like the same man I had spent
time with in my bed.
“This isn't my fault, Bennett. I
don't want to write about it. But story or not, were you never planning on
calling me and telling me? Don't you think that is a little rude, to say the
least.”
“Yeah, I get that, Emmi, but I
have had a lot on my plate since that call. Telling you wasn't first on my
priority
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