Chapter 4 The Press conference

MIA

The press conference was that day. The media room was packed with cameras, microphones and reporters typing on laptops before anyone even said a word. The lights were too bright, washing out the colors of the Wolves logo on the podium, and everything feels so awkward.

Caleb stood at the microphone in his team jacket, his hair still wet from practice. He looked calm in the way that people look calm when they've done something a hundred times. but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I stood three feet behind him and to the left, the designated spot for the supportive girlfriend who doesn't speak unless spoken to. Chloe was in the back row, pretending to be a student journalist with a notebook she hadn't written in. She gave me a thumbs up, and I wanted to shout help me, but I didnt.

A reporter raised her hand. I recognized her from somewhere, the woman with sharp cheekbones and a voice like she'd already decided what the story was. "Caleb, after the incident last month, your image took a hit. How do you plan to rebuild trust with fans?"

He leaned into the microphone. "By playing better hockey, And by surrounding myself with people who are honest."

He glanced at me just for a second, a quick flick of his eyes. The cameras caught it, because of course they did. Someone in the back whispered.

Another reporter, a guy with a red tie and a voice too deep then said, "Is that your girlfriend? The team manager?"

Caleb nodded. "Mia. She's been with the Wolves for two years, she has seen me at my worst and didn't run." He paused, let that sink in. "That's the kind of person I want in my corner."

I kept my face neutral, but my heart was pounding so hard I was sure the microphones could hear it. He was good too good at this. The way he said my name, like it meant something and I meant something.

"Can she say something?" A third reporter, a woman with a notepad and sharp eyes. She was from some national outlet, those that didn't show up for regular season games.

Everyone turned to look at me.

I stepped forward, not too far, just enough. "I'm just here to support him, He's a good guy when he's not being an idiot."

Some of the reporters laughed, A few of them wrote it down. Caleb shook his head like I was a handful but he loved me anyway and he was so convincing that for a second I almost forgot this was all an act.

The woman with the notepad didn't laugh, She looked at me, then at Caleb, then back at me, and she wrote something in that notebook without ever taking her eyes off us.

"We've heard rumors that this relationship is a publicity arrangement," she said. "Can you comment?"

The room went quiet that even the cameras seemed to hold their breath.

Caleb's face changed, the easy smile gone. "That's not a question. That's an accusation."

"I'm asking for clarification," she said.

"We're dating. That's the clarification." He reached back and held out his hand to me. "Mia, come here."

I walked to him. His hands holds mine. His hand was cold, or maybe mine was. I couldn't tell anyways.

"See" He lifted our joined hands so the cameras could see. "Does this look fake to you?"

The cameras flashed, a dozen quick bursts of light that left spots in my vision. The woman with the notepad wrote something and didn't look up. I just smiled because she has nothing else to say.

After the press conference ended and the reporters shuffled out with their equipment, their notebooks and their opinions. Caleb finally let go of my hand. He stepped back and rubbed his face with both hands.

"That woman," he said. "She knows something."

"Or she's guessing," I said.

"She's not guessing, Someone told her." He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. "My dad."

I leaned against the wall. The adrenaline from the last hour was starting to drain out of me, leaving something hollow behind. "What do we do?"

"We don't do anything. I will handle it." He typed something, deleted it, typed again. "Go back to class. I'll text you."

"Caleb," I said.

He looked up.

"Your hand is shaking."

He looked at his hand like he hadn't noticed, then shoved it in his pocket. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine."

"I said I'm fine." His voice came out sharp, but then he softened. "Just go. Please."

I left.

Chloe was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the lockers with her notebook still empty. "That was intense," she said.

"She asked if we're fake."

"I know, I almost choked on my gum." She fell into the step next to me as I walked toward the exit. "But you handled it. The hand thing was good."

"His idea," I said.

"Even better. Looks spontaneous." She bumped my shoulder with hers. "You might survive this."

"I might not," I said.

My phone buzzed in my pocket ams I pulled it out.

It's Caleb. My dad is flying in, he wants to meet you alone Tomorrow.

Another buzz. Don't say yes.

Another. But don't say no either.

I stopped walking. Chloe stopped too and she asked. "What does that even mean?"

"It means I'm trapped." I typed back to Caleb. When and where.

3:00pm, at His hotel. I'll come with you.

No. If he wants to scare me, let him try.

Chloe grabbed my arm. "You're not going alone."

"I'm always alone, Chloe. That's how I survive."

I put my phone away and walked toward my next class. The hallways felt longer than usual, the stares from other students was sharper. Tomorrow I would meet Richard Kessler in his hotel room, and I would have to make him like me.

I had no idea how I was going to pull that off.