The entire production crew has set up in the hallway outside the locker room. There are lights and cameras everywhere, and Jerry is talking to his assistant producer, Dan, about something.
“Jerry?” My voice comes out flat. “What are you doing here?”
“Scotty! Hey! We’re here for filming. Don’t you remember? We booked this with you a few months back.”
I shake my head, even though my stomach sinks. I kinda remember an email with dates I agreed to… and zero memory of actually writing them anywhere.
Fuck. I’m an idiot.
“Are you allowed to film here? I thought you guys didn’t have the rights?”
It’s basically why this whole season’s been quiet. Dad didn’t want to start anything without approvals, and it made him way more careful about my time with the team. I haven’t filmed a single thing since preseason, and now saying no feels crappy when the whole crew’s waiting.
“We managed to get special permission from the athletic director as long as we didn’t film gameplay. It should only take an hour or so.”
An hour.
I’ll miss her entire audition by then.
Disappointment racks through my bones because I’m not sure how I can get out of this.
“Scotty, my boy!” Dad's voice booms as he pushes through the equipment. He pulls me into a hug, and I force myself to return it even though every muscle in my body is screaming at me to run. “Thanks for doing this. Jerry told me the audience loved Amelia's campus tour so much, they wanted to see more of you in your element.”
“That’s great, Dad.”
I’m trying to form my words, but my dad speaks before I can.
“I was thinking we could start with you walking us to your dorm,” my dad interrupts. “Then maybe have some dinner with your roommates.”
“It sounds great, Dad, but—”
“If dinner doesn’t sound good, we could always go bowling.”
“I can’t. I’m busy,” I say quickly, immediately regretting it.
That was rude of me, and I can’t remember the last time I spoke to my father like that.
Dad’s smile falters for a second, and that’s when the regret really settles in. Why does disappointing my father feel like I’m telling a golden retriever that he’s never going for a walk again?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that, but I have somewhere I need to be.”
My cheeks are burning from regret, and a little embarrassment over the fact that the first time I’ve said no to my father is because of Laura.
Dad's eyes narrow, then widen, and suddenly that megawatt smile is back, even brighter. “Wait a minute.” He leans in conspiratorially, lowering his voice like we're sharing some big secret. “It's a girl, isn't it?”
“A-a girl?”
Shit, why do I make everything so obvious?
“Scotty, that's fantastic! This is exactly what you need—you've been so focused on hockey and school, I was starting to worry you weren't having any fun. Is it someone from class? From the team? Oh!” His face lights up even more, if that's possible. “Did you hear Carrie and Amelia are planning to enroll at Covey U together? You know, I always thought you two had great chemistry. Remember at Christmas when you helped her with her skating? Your mother and I were just saying—”
“Dad.” I can feel my jaw clenching. “It's not Carrie.”
“No?” He looks genuinely confused. “But she's such a sweet girl, and you two have known each other since—”
“What is with everyone thinking I'm into Carrie?” The frustration bleeds through.
Erik chooses that moment to appear, still in his practice gear, shaking his head. “No one thinks you're into Carrie, Hendricks. It’s all based on how she looks at you…and what she says in the confessionals.” He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he takes me in. “Don’t you watch your own show?”
