His Wings, Finally Free

Three years ago, when I joined the team of journalists here at Eastfield, I’d planned on taking things slow and blending in. For a whole year that worked great, until a new arrival in my second year mixed up the whole system.

Liam Dean was a bit of a polarizing character from the get-go. His unique combination of precise, detailed questioning, lack of interest in fellow journalists, and wildly meteoric success left many of his peers envious.

Those few who would bother to speak with him generally went with snarky comments, rude tones, and oddly enough a superiority complex that made no sense given their lack of results in the same field.

“What are you working on?” I’d asked one day in late fall two years ago, while taking a seat next to him in the school library.

We were in the section that stored school records, newspapers of notebooks with match results among many other recordings of past sporting achievements. It was a favorite spot of all of the school’s sports journalists, and often got visitors from professionals ahead of big sporting events.

He looked up, surprised to find someone talking to him.

“Managed to get a spot for this new soccer star’s first interview.”

I’d heard about that very interview, and had been disappointed to find that I wouldn’t be able to participate. There was this new first year striker who was shockingly dominant among a field of third and fourth year players, scoring left, right, and center. Her first interview had been limited to just a few journalists, and many of the team were upset that they couldn’t get in.

I sat down next to him and started working on my preparation for the upcoming men’s doubles tournament in badminton. It was a tournament I was really looking forward to, since there were no clear favorites, so just about anyone could end up taking the win.

We spent hours there, just silently working for our respective projects, and when it was time for me to leave, I looked over to see he still had a small stack of material to sort through, even though he’d gotten here before me. It was impressive seeing how much effort he’d put into this, and really summarized why he got the results he did.

“See ya, Liam.”

“Bye, um…”

“Marcus, second year.” I said, giving him a wave as I walked out.

Ever since then, I’d taken it as part of my job on the team to ensure that Liam would at least be able to do his job uninterrupted. Telling off people while maintaining good relationships so they would respect my wishes, and ensuring that Liam had someone to rely on when he was in trouble.

It was a tough balancing act, but it livened up my days of quiet study and staying out of the way.

Fast forward two years and I’d done well enough in maintaining connections to be unanimously voted to lead the fourth years among the journalists, which allowed me to organize fun events like today’s.

A quiet, simple interview, followed by a group dinner with a lot of friends and friends’ friends.

And as I looked down the table, the best bit of all was happening at the very end.

A group of four was smiling, laughing, and enjoying their time together. And among those four was Liam Dean, who wouldn’t have been on many people’s invite lists today.

Yet there he was, shining brightest of all. His wings, finally free.