Stories, Bit by Bit: Lilly, Part Two

Lilly started walking fast toward the journalism club. She was so excited. Everything was coming together, but as she got closer, she felt herself falling out of place. Her confidence began to shatter as she recalled her dad’s conversation and all the inner dialogue she had been playing.

Is this even possible? I am probably fooling myself. I do tend to dream, but remember, dreaming is a great motivator. Come on, girl, you’ve got this.

Just as she opened the door, her aplomb stood up. Even if it was a “fake it until you make it” moment, she’d take it. The door felt stuck, but maybe it was because she was still shaking. She let go, took a deep breath, and firmly grabbed it with extra strength, and it opened nicely. The room was cool and very quiet.

She didn’t get very far before a tall man greeted her. Though friendly, he was intimidating, and her phony bologna confidence act began to shatter. Since she stood frozen, the man approached, and it was clear he saw how uncomfortable she was.

“Welcome. My name is Greg Thomas. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting today, and how can I help you?”

He was so nice.

Lilly smiled and said, “My name is Lillian Frank, but my friends just call me Lilly. I am here to find out more about this club. I think that I would very much like to become a member. I was hoping I could speak to someone and learn about what you offer, and if I might be well suited to join.”

He smiled and responded quickly. “Looks like you found me. I happen to be the club president. I was just heading out for the day when you entered.”

“Oh no, Mr. Thomas. I can come back another time if that is better.”

“Not necessary. I am more than happy to help, and please, call me Greg. Come into my office.”

She was getting more excited. It seemed he was eager to consider her already, or was she just hoping?

He said that he needed to know more about her first.

“So, tell me, Lilly, how long have you been pursuing a degree in journalism? We usually only consider those who have already completed their prerequisites and are well on their way to graduating.”

She paused and took a deep breath. “Sir, I mean Greg, I’m a senior undergraduate. My degree has been in veterinary science.”

Greg looked confused. He started explaining that she may have wandered into the wrong place. This was a journalism club for aspiring journalists.

She scowled at him. Displaced anger was real. The same defensiveness she had felt with her dad rose up again.

“Yes, sir, I know. But you see, I have been thinking about this for a long time. I want to become a journalist instead.”

“Listen, sir,” she continued, no longer wanting to call him Greg. “Is there a rule at this college that says a person can’t change paths? I don’t think so.”

She took a breath.

“I know I’m a good writer. I’m certain many credits will transfer. I’ve written, and I’ve even been published in the local paper. I’m serious about this, and I’m capable.”

She hesitated, then added, her tone tempered, “I would welcome the opportunity to prove myself, if you’ll let me.”

She realized she may have been disrespectful. His small grin, followed by a brief laugh, made her wonder if he was mocking her. Then he leaned in.

“Lilly, I apologize if I came across as dismissive,” he said. “I hear your determination, and you’ll need that spunk, and plenty of it, as a journalist.”

“I would consider you on two conditions. First, you need to get all your logistics in order. We only accept members who are actively working toward a journalism degree.”

“Second, I want you to write a piece explaining how you came to the decision to become a journalist, what you hope for your future, and why we should consider you.”

She had asked for a chance, and this was it.

To be continued.

Tag, you’re it. If you’d like to join me in the fun, feel free to comment below. If not, I’ll keep the story moving, bit by bit.

Sending warmth and kindness.