Chapter 78: Itn
CHAPTER 3: THE FIRST PRESS CONFERENCE
The hospital call is nothing. A scheduling mix-up for Mom's next infusion. I stand in the lobby and laugh, short and shaky, relief hitting harder than the fear did.
Two days later my hands are shaking anyway, standing backstage in Caleb's jersey, trying not to throw up.
"Smile more." Derek adjusts his tie. "Touch his shoulder when you talk about him. Look at each other like you're in love."
"I've never been in love. I don't know what it looks like."
"Fake it."
Caleb finds me by the curtain. "You ready?"
"Define ready."
"Just follow my lead. I've done a hundred of these. None of them mattered until this one."
Derek waves us forward. Lights so bright I can't see past the third row. His hand finds the small of my back. We sit. The questions start soft, the season, his stats, the playoffs.
A reporter in the second row raises her hand. "Caleb, what does Mia mean to you?"
The room goes quiet. He looks at me instead of answering. "She makes me want to be better. Not for the cameras. For me."
My heart slams against my ribs. I keep my face neutral.
Pens move. Someone in the back says, "That's the quote."
It's everywhere within the hour.
Danny texts me before I've even left the podium. You looked weird in his jersey. Good weird. Don't tell him I said that.
By the time Chloe picks me up from my shift, my phone is a wall of notifications. Screenshots of the quote over a photo of Caleb looking at me like I hung the moon.
"Fake relationship goals." Chloe reads it out loud, grinning. "Girl. Do you see how he's looking at you?"
"It's a performance, Chloe."
"Uh huh." She doesn't sound convinced. Neither do I.
I go home. Check on Mom, asleep in her pink beanie. I pull up the article even though I told myself I wouldn't. She makes me want to be better. Not for the cameras. For me. I read it four times.
I fall asleep before I figure out which version of him is the lie.
The alarm drags me up at six. Chloe texts before I'm even out of bed. Checked the comments this morning. People are losing their minds. In a good way.
Define good way.
Someone made a fan account. Four hundred followers already.
I stare at the ceiling. Four hundred strangers who think they know something true about a contract and a hospital bill.
Homeroom is worse than I expect. Three girls I've never spoken to smile at me like we're friends now.
Caleb finds me at my locker before first period, coffee in each hand.
"How bad is it?"
"Four hundred strangers think we're in love." I take the coffee. "You?"
"About the same. Derek's thrilled. Says it's the best press we've gotten all season."
"Derek doesn't have to live inside it."
Something shifts in his face. "No. I guess he doesn't."
We stand there too long, coffee cooling between us. The bell rings and cuts the moment short before either of us has to decide what we were both thinking.
Third period, my chemistry teacher pulls up an article on the projector by accident, some tab left open from grading. The whole class sees the headline before he fumbles the mouse closed. FAKE DATING GOES REAL. Twenty six kids turn to look at me at once.
At lunch, Chloe slides a printout across the table. A screenshot of Brianna's account, calling me a gold digger with a hockey jersey. Forty one likes already.
"Ignore her. She's just mad nobody's writing think pieces about her love life."
"I'm not upset about Brianna. I'm upset that I don't know if I'm upset."
"That doesn't make sense."
"No." She steals a fry off my tray. "But I love you anyway."
The bell rings. I go to class. The countdown keeps ticking, and I already know tomorrow is going to bring something worse than a projector screen full of my own headline.