The Fixer: New Wave Newsroom by Jenny Holiday Page B

voice softened. “Tony?”
    â€œYou have to come,” he said, barging into the room, aiming the order at me.
    â€œI’m not going anywhere today, Tony,” I said, turning over to face the wall. “Tell Beth to run the editorial meeting.” I’d been planning on recommending to the paper’s board that Beth get the editor-in-chief job next year, so it couldn’t hurt for her to get some experience now.
    â€œJenny, get out of bed,” he said. “There’s something you need to see.”
    Something about the tone the usually mild-mannered photographer used to deliver his directive got me out of bed. I sent him outside to wait while I threw on some sweats and brushed my teeth. Just like two mornings ago in the bathroom at Matthew’s dorm, I didn’t look in the mirror. I didn’t want to see what he had reduced me to.
    â€œI was in the darkroom late last night,” Tony explained as he and Nessa and I set off across the quad, “when the door opened.”
    Nessa looked at me warily. I knew what she was thinking: Royce.
    â€œIt was that Matthew Townsend kid.”
    â€œWhat?” Nessa said, her voice indignant.
    â€œYeah, and he ruined an entire box of photo paper.”
    â€œWhat did he want?” I couldn’t help it. I wanted to not care what Matthew did, but if Tony didn’t keep telling the story, I would drag it out of him.
    I needn’t have worried, because obviously whatever happened had been weighing on Tony, and he was anxious to unburden himself. He wrung his hands as he walked. “He begged me to help him with his senior portfolio. He said he had all the art done—installations, he said. He just needed someone to walk around with him and take photos to document them.”
    I sucked in a breath. He couldn’t mean… “The graffiti?” I whispered.
    â€œYeah,” said Tony. He’s the guy whose been doing all that political graffiti all these years. And his stuff—it’s amazing.”
    So why was Tony so worked up? He didn’t know about Matthew and me.
    â€œSo we walked around,” he continued. “It wasn’t quite dark yet, so we got some good shots. There was more to do when night really fell, so we walked back to the circle and parted ways there, agreeing that we’d meet at the art building this morning to photograph the rest.”
    â€œIt was nice of you to help him,” I offered weakly, not sure what else to say.
    â€œI did it for you.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œWell, for the art building,” he clarified. “I thought if I did him a favor, maybe I could get him to use any pull he had with the department, or that Curry guy, to protest the demolition.”
    Tears sprang to my eyes. Why couldn’t I have fallen for a guy like Tony? He was a Goth, which was not at all my type, and came off as kind of a playboy, but he was always doing these sweet, thoughtful things.
    â€œBut, really, once I saw what he was doing, it felt, like…important to help him.” He seemed anguished, like he was apologizing to me for something.
    â€œI know,” I said, nodding, feeling like he needed me to dispense absolution for some reason I couldn’t understand. “His work could be really significant if he would just…allow it to be.”
    â€œWell, I’m exposing the film when I get back to my room,” Tony said angrily as we rounded the corner that would put us onto the circle. He’d taken us along a path that came up along the side of the art building and deposited us right in front of it.
    Nessa saw it before I did and gasped. I looked at her first, saw the horror on her face as she clasped a hand over her mouth.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Tony said. “I thought you should see it. I’m going to leave you here and go get some of the newspaper people together to see about getting it removed.” He patted my arm awkwardly and