Page 24

Just like the last time I was here, I knew I was in trouble before I’d even knocked on the door. It was the second time Professor Adler had called me in, and the last time hadn’t worked in my favor at all. I knew this time would be no different because he didn’t just call students in. Plus, he didn’t even do it with an email this time. He’d literally sent his assistant to find me.

With a sigh, I pushed the door aside, and to my dismay, I saw Penny Donovan sitting at his desk. She had one leg crossed over the other and tapped her pen against her notebook. Whatever I’d been expecting just got a whole lot worse. Anticipation twisted in my stomach. And to make matters worse, Penny didn’t look surprised to see me.

“Close the door,” Professor Adler said in a voice of steel.

The soft click sounded louder than it should’ve, and I couldn’t stop my body from tensing up. But I still forced my shoulders back, neutralized my expression, and stepped forward. I looked perfectly fine, but internally my mind was racing. It flipped through every possible reason for this summons, but I couldn’t find one that seemed good enough.

I didn’t sit down until Professor Adler gestured to the second chair he had brought in, but even then it took me a second. With a steadying breath, I set my notebook down on my lap, realizing it may be the only minor act of control I might have throughout the rest of this conversation.

Professor Adler leaned back and studied me intently. “You weren’t at the Nor’easters game.”

Wow, he just went straight into that one, and I wasn’t prepared for it. I got out of the last game with a couple of poor excuses, and my state of shock left me with no choice but to try it again.

“I was working.”

Penny let out a quiet breath. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was close enough to land like one. “On what?”

“Research,” I said, giving her a pointed look.

“For a game you were assigned to cover?” she asked in a tone that was far too calm to be considered safe.

I kept my voice level. “For a larger angle that I’ve been developing.”

Professor Adler’s jaw tightened, and she looked just as annoyed. I knew my words would upset the professor, but I never discussed this with Penny, so she couldn’t have such a big problem with it, right?

“We’re not interested in your larger angle,” she said flatly. “We’re interested in having the games and other important events covered. You know, like the arrival of the new bus, which you don’t know about because once again you didn’t show up, even after you swore it would never happen again. We need you at these games, Dakota.”

My fingers tightened on my notebook. “I expected Trace Prescott to become a focal point this season. I already have a draft piece prepared—”

“No,” Professor Adler said, sounding more annoyed than ever.

His interruption cut right through my sentence, forcing my attention back to him.

“You don’t get to pre-write athletes like they’re predictable,” he added. “You cover what happens when it happens. Plus, I already told you to drop your angle.”

“I have and I am,” I said, holding his gaze. “I’m just approaching it with more depth than a standard game recap.”

Penny leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You didn’t even know who he was two weeks ago.”

I knew I wouldn’t be able to live that one down, but that didn’t mean I didn’t learn. My few encounters with him told me everything I needed to know and more.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t recognize a pattern,” I snapped.

“It means you’re good at guessing,” Penny shot back.

Heat flared up the back of my neck. “I don’t guess.”

“Then where were you?” she repeated. “Because ‘research’ doesn’t explain why you skipped a required game.”

And there it was, the moment that really mattered. I felt the space where the truth could go hanging between us. The hours I’d spent chasing threads that didn’t quite line up and digging into funding reports and old articles. The knowledge that certain programs seemed to benefit from the same names showing up in the background and actually getting my hands on some of those names.

It wasn’t concrete, which also meant it wasn’t enough. And even they weren’t ready to admit that it meant something. I wasn’t ready to hand it over yet.

“I had material I needed to go through,” I said, keeping my voice steady and controlled. “If I’m going to produce something worth publishing, I need more than surface-level access.”

Penny stared at me, clearly unimpressed. “You need to show up.”

“If you miss another game, you’re off the paper.” Professor Adler didn’t soften it.