Page 72 of Something to Prove

I waited till I was home to call my aunt.

“How are you, honey?” she answered. Her voice had a strained quality that sent my frayed nerves into the stratosphere.

“Fine. Is everything okay there?”

“Yes and…no. We’ve had a few calls. Suddenly the world has Ketchum Clomsky fever. And someone from Florida wants to chat about Ty Czerniak.”

“What? Wh-why?”

“You’re the obvious connection, but I don’t know what they want.” She paused for a moment. “I’ve contacted our lawyer.”

“Lawyer,” I repeated, raking my fingers through my hair.

“They suggested releasing a statement.”

“A statement.” Oh, geez, I was a parrot. “But…what would we say?”

“We’d politely ask for privacy.”

I smacked my palm on my forehead and blew out a stream of air. There was no reason to get frustrated, but seriously…did she really think hardline reporters on the hunt for a juicy story would give up that easily?

Oh, never mind. The family wants privacy. Let’s bug someone else, guys.

Conversations with my aunt almost always soothed my nerves. Not tonight. I was a basket case.

“Right,” I said instead.

“Darling, I know it’s upsetting, but at the end of the day, it’s a hockey story during hockey season.”

“About someone who can’t defend himself.” My voice cracked ominously.

“I think Ty is perfectly capable of defending himself, and I have a feeling this is more about you than your dad.”

“Me? How?” I choked out.

“An Internet star whose father played hockey and is now romantically attached to a rising hockey star is interesting,” she replied, patiently connecting the dots.

“But…no one knows about us. We’re just friends.”

The heavy pause on the line was thick with sympathy.

“Then they’ll soon lose interest. Don’t worry, honey. The fuss will die down, and it’ll be all right.”

Was that true? I wasn’t so sure.

My well-ordered life had devolved into utter chaos in a matter of hours. I fell onto the sofa and stared into space while Mabel judged me from her perch at the window. She purred when my cell vibrated with a text from Robin.

I’ll meet you at the game. I’ll buy the popcorn tonight.

The game. The big game.

The Bears were playing Trinity. I was covering it. I had to. This was a major event on campus. We were expected to beat one of our fearsome rivals, and all eyes would be on Ty, who’d been a one-man scoring machine lately. He’d had a hat trick against St. Mark last weekend, assisted two goals and scored against Granville. Those had been away games, but tonight, they played at home and?—

I was unraveling at lightspeed, on the verge of a panic attack.

My hands shook, and my heart beat too fast.

I couldn’t help thinking that I’d been here before. I knew what endings felt like.