Page 287 of Faking the Goal

"Unlimited access?"

"Interview requests? Approved. Follow-up questions? Approved. Behind-the-scenes photos? Approved." He smirks. "Hell, if you forget a quote, you can literally text the source."

I toss a crumpled sticky note at him.

"Abuse of journalistic ethics."

"Relationship perks."

"I still verify every quote."

"Of course you do." He pauses. "Do you verify them before or after you kiss the source?"

"Brett."

"Just asking."

I lean back in my chair and rub both hands over my face. The fluorescent lights are making my eyes ache, and the coffee I bought on the way here has gone cold beside my laptop, but I take another sip anyway because disappointment apparently tastes better with caffeine.

"I hate previews," I complain. "Half the quotes are some variation of we're taking it one game at a time, and the other half are Coach Hopper refusing to make predictions because he thinks saying anything optimistic will personally summon a losing streak."

"That's sports journalism."

"That's superstition with a media credential."

Brett smiles, but his attention shifts toward the whiteboard mounted beside Polly's office. Written across the top in red marker is UPCOMING RELEASES, followed by a color-coded list of deadlines, assignments, and initials. Tomorrow's newsletter still needs its photo package before the graphics team can finish the layout, Wednesday's online features are waiting on final edits, and the monthly print issue closes on Friday afternoon before it's sent to the campus printer. Judging by the dark circles under everyone's eyes, no one in this office has had a normal sleep schedule in days.

My phone buzzes on the desk.

A smile immediately tugs at the corner of my mouth before I can stop it.

KENTARO

On my way up.

I quickly type back.

ME

Okay. Just wrapping things up.

I shut my laptop, slide it into my tote, and sling the bag over my shoulder.

Brett glances up from his computer.

"Already?"

"My boyfriend's on his way up."

I say it with far more pride than necessary.

Brett groans dramatically and leans back in his chair.

"Geez, stop saying it like that. Some of us are trying to survive being single."

"You asked." I shrug innocently.

He points toward the door.