9. VICE HEAD

The library was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound that filled the room. Alina sat at her usual corner table, surrounded by stacks of notes, textbooks, and a well-worn notebook where she had scribbled down her thoughts and ideas. The mid-morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting gentle shadows across the pages as she flipped through her notes, trying to make sense of the dense material for her upcoming exams.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, and she absentmindedly chewed on the end of her pen, a habit she had picked up whenever she was deep in thought. She was reviewing a particularly challenging section on postmodern literature, trying to decipher the complex ideas that seemed to intertwine and contradict themselves at every turn.

“Okay, so if Derrida is saying that meaning is deferred… then how do I even begin to analyze this text?” she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

The library was mostly empty, save for a few students scattered at various tables, all absorbed in their own work. The serenity of the space allowed Alina to focus, to lose herself in the world of words and theories. But just as she began to jot down a few notes, her concentration was interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

“Alina?”

She looked up, slightly startled, to see Mrs. Henley, her English teacher, standing beside her table. Mrs. Henley was a woman in her early forties, with kind eyes that sparkled with an enthusiasm for literature that had made Alina fall in love with the subject even more.

“Mrs. Henley,” Alina greeted, quickly straightening up in her seat. “Is everything okay?”

Mrs. Henley smiled warmly but there was a hint of urgency in her expression. “I’ve been looking for you. Do you have a moment?”

Alina nodded, closing her notebook. “Of course. What’s up?”

Mrs. Henley pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, placing a folder on the table between them. “It’s about the upcoming literature event. As you know, the head of the literacy club is currently on a medical leave, and since you’re the vice-head… I’m afraid the responsibility of organizing the event has fallen to you.”

Alina’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what? But… the event is in two weeks! I don’t even know where to start!”

Mrs. Henley’s expression softened. “I know it’s sudden, and I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t think you could handle it. You’re one of the most capable students I’ve ever taught, and I’m confident you’ll do a wonderful job. But I’m here to help, of course. You won’t be doing this alone.”

Alina leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. The literature event was a big deal—students, faculty, and even some local authors were expected to attend. It was a chance for the literacy club to showcase its work and for the students to engage with the literary community. And now, she was in charge of making sure it all came together.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Okay… I guess I can start by reviewing what’s already been planned and then figure out what needs to be done.”

Mrs. Henley nodded, her smile returning. “That’s the spirit. Here, take a look at this.” She slid the folder across the table to Alina. “This is everything that’s been planned so far—venue, guest list, themes, and so on. It’s a good starting point.”

Alina opened the folder and quickly scanned the contents. It was a lot—much more than she had anticipated. But as she looked through the plans, a small part of her felt excited. This was an opportunity to make her mark, to bring her ideas to life, and to contribute something meaningful to the school’s literary culture.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henley,” Alina said after a moment. “I’ll do my best to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“I know you will,” Mrs. Henley replied, her voice filled with confidence. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have to get back to my class now, but if you need any help—anything at all—don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“I will,” Alina promised, watching as Mrs. Henley stood up to leave.

As she watched her teacher walk away, Alina felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. She had a lot to do and very little time to do it. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, she felt a spark of determination. This was her chance to prove herself, to show that she was capable of handling something this important.

She looked down at the folder again, her mind already buzzing with ideas. She could reach out to the other members of the literacy club, delegate tasks, and start making calls to confirm the guest list. There were posters to design, a program to finalize, and countless other details to consider.

But first, she needed a plan.

Alina took out a fresh sheet of paper and began to make a list. As she wrote, she felt her confidence growing. She could do this—she had to do this. And with Mrs. Henley’s support, along with the help of her fellow club members, she knew that the event could be a success.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she put pen to paper, her notes and textbooks temporarily forgotten. She had a new challenge ahead of her, one that would test her skills and push her out of her comfort zone. But she was ready.

And so, in the quiet of the library, Alina began to plan, her mind racing with ideas and possibilities. The task ahead was daunting, but she was determined to face it head-on, with the same passion and dedication that had brought her to this moment.

Two weeks. She had two weeks to pull this off. But if there was one thing Alina knew, it was that she thrived under pressure.

With a deep breath, she picked up her pen and got to work.

**~☆~* *

Caelan sat in his spacious, dimly lit office, the city’s skyline stretching out behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The silence in the room was only broken by the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the polished wood of his desk. His sharp, grey eyes were fixed on the reports spread out before him, though his mind seemed elsewhere.

Will and Hope, his twin assistants, stood by the door, waiting for their usual directives. They were accustomed to their boss’s meticulous nature, his precise demands, and his singular focus on business. But today, something was different. There was a tension in the air, an unusual undercurrent that neither of them could quite place.

Finally, Caelan broke the silence, his voice low and measured. “I want you to run a background check on someone.”

Both Will and Hope raised their eyebrows simultaneously, glancing at each other in surprise. Their boss was many things—ruthless, brilliant, a perfectionist—but one thing he had never shown interest in was people outside of business. Especially women.