Page 10

"You know what?" I say, straightening my shoulders and walking back over to my desk. "I'm going to tackle this head-on. Knox first, obviously. Easy win. Then maybe Levi or Asher. Work my way up to..."

"The awkward one?" Ari supplies helpfully.

"I was going to say the more challenging interviews, but yes."

My phone vibrates, and I dig it out from under a stack of papers. It's a text from my brother.

"Speak of the devil," I mutter, showing Ari the notification. I wait a split second before tapping to open Knox's message.

Knox: Selene has some questions about the creative writing class you’re taking. Isla said some things and she wants to compare.

"Wow, perfect timing," Ari says, reading over my shoulder. "The universe works in mysterious ways."

"The universe can mind its own business," I mutter, typing a quick response to Knox. I didn’t really mean that. Forgive me, universe.

Me: Sure, I can talk to her. When?

"I'm going to use this as an excuse to set up the interviews," I tell Ari, already formulating my plan. "Two birds, one stone."

"Look at you, being all efficient and proactive," Ari says, nudging my shoulder. "And they say avoidance isn't a productive coping mechanism."

"It's not avoidance if I'm literally seeking them out for interviews," I counter, though my stomach flips at the thought of facing Blaise. My phone buzzes again.

Knox: Tomorrow? Our place around 7? I can get some of the guys together after practice if you need to talk to them for that article you're probably going to write about Senior Night.

I stare at my phone. How does he know about the article already? Either the hockey team grapevine is working overtime, or my brother has developed psychic abilities. Neither option is comforting.

"Is he psychic now?" I ask Ari, showing her the message.

She shrugs. "Kate probably mentioned it to someone who mentioned it to someone else who told the team. You know how this campus works. They also probably needed to clear it with their coach and the administration."

"Great. So they're all expecting me. That makes this so much better."

Me: How did you know about the article?

Three dots appear immediately.

Knox: Kate emailed Coach this morning asking for access. Coach told us to "be cooperative and don't say anything stupid." Direct quote.

Me: Fine. Tomorrow at 7 works. I'll be there.

I add a thumbs-up emoji to seem casual, then immediately regret it. Nothing says "I'm totally fine with interviewing my brother's best friend who I drunkenly kissed two years ago and have been avoiding ever since" like a forced thumbs-up.

Knox: Bringing pizza. Don't be late or Wilder will eat your share.

"Well, that's settled," I say, tossing my phone onto my desk where it lands and knocks into my pen. "Tomorrow night I get to start interviewing hockey players. Yay. Go me.”

“You know how many people would kill to be in your position?”

“And they’re welcome to swap places with me.”

"At least there'll be pizza," Ari offers. "And other people around. Safety in numbers."

"I'd rather eat glass than sit through an hour of hockey talk surrounded by sweaty dudes who think they're gods on ice," I say and let out a big sigh. "But you're right. Pizza is a silver lining."

"And you'll have Selene there," Ari reminds me, pulling her laptop closer.

I smile despite myself. Selene is pretty great. After getting to know her more since she’s been with my brother and when we traveled to Abue’s birthday party, I’ve realized she’s smart, down-to-earth, and somehow manages to keep my brother in check. A minor miracle, if you ask me.

"True. And she actually wanted my advice about something, which is a nice change." I start organizing my scattered notes into something resembling order. "Maybe I'll just focus on her and pretend the rest of them are potted plants."

"Decorative benches," Ari corrects with a smirk.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." She takes a sip from her water bottle. "So what's your angle for the article? Please tell me you're not going in guns blazing with the 'toxic masculinity in sports culture' approach."

I gasp in mock offense. "I would never be so predictable." Then I pause, reconsidering. "Okay, maybe I had a few thoughts along those lines."

"Willow."

"What? It's a valid perspective!"

Ari gives me her patented "I'm not buying your bullshit" look. "Kate wants a feature on their impact on campus, not your personal vendetta against jocks."

"It's not a vendetta," I argue, though my voice lacks conviction. "It's critical journalism."

"Uh-huh. And I'm sure your ex and a certain awkward kiss have nothing to do with your objectivity."

My cheeks heat up again. "Low blow, Lennon. Low fucking blow. Plus if I was really on one, I would talk about toxic masculinity in the gaming world. Starring Leo Kent."

Ari winces. "Sorry. That was unfair."

I shrug, trying to appear unbothered even though everything within me wishes we could avoid this topic. "Whatever. It's fine."

"No, it's not." She reaches across the desk and squeezes my hand. "I shouldn't have brought him up."

"Leo Kent is old news. Ancient history."

And that’s where he is going to fucking stay if it’s the last thing I do.