Great. Did everyone know?
“Shut up,” I shot back and took a few more bites, ignoring their jabs.
A guy stepped into the aisle, a phone in his hand, his eyes sweeping the row until he found me. “Matthewson. Media time.”
“Of course,” I replied, shoving my phone into my pocket and following him out.
Right outside the door, a woman in team gear waited with a clipboard tucked against her chest. “I’m Lila, media relations,” she introduced, already walking with me. “Stick to baseball only and give short answers. If anyone tries to drag you into anything else, I’ll end it.”
“Got it,” I responded.
We pushed through a door into a small media room with bright lights and too many faces. The guy with the phone pointed me toward the table.
I slid into the chair behind the mic and set my hands on the tabletop. Lila took her spot off to the side, and a reporter in the front row leaned forward first.
“Congrats on your debut,” he said. “What was going through your head at short today?”
I let out a breath through my nose and kept it simple. “Stay focused. Make the plays in front of me. Don’t try to do too much because it’s Opening Day.”
A couple of people scribbled some notes.
Another voice jumped in. “Was it hard to settle in with the crowd and everything?”
“It was loud.” A grin crept in because I couldn’t help it. “I’ve been around baseball my whole life. I watched my father play shortstop here on TV, and today I stood in the same spot, doing the same job. It’s been a lot to wrap my head around.”
“That must be surreal, and you got your first big-league win,” the first reporter added. “Has it hit yet?”
“It’s starting to,” I answered. “I’m probably going to wake up tomorrow and think it was a dream.”
A few chuckles.
A reporter in the back of the room impatiently raised his hand. “Matthewson,” he began, and my stomach tightened as the tone shifted. “Faye Donnelley was here today. Are you dating the president’s daughter?”
The room grew quieter, even though no one stopped moving. Pens still scratched. Cameras still rolled.
I kept my face neutral. “I’m here to talk about the game.”
“That’s not an answer,” he pressed. “She was in a suite with your family. There are photos. Are you together?”
Lila didn’t move, but her eyes locked onto mine, a reminder to stay calm and not get cute.
“I’m not answering personal questions. We got the win. That’s what matters to me today.”
The reporter tried again, louder. “So you’re not denying it?”
I held his gaze. “Next question about baseball.”
Another reporter jumped in. “What was your favorite moment out there?” he asked.
I took the lifeline. “Honestly, my favorite moment was the first ball hit to me. It wasn’t even a tough play, just a routine grounder, but the second it hit my glove and I made the throw, the nerves were gone. I wasn’t imagining the big leaguesanymore. I wasn’t waiting for it to feel real. I was just playing baseball, and I was right where I belonged.”
The guy who had wanted to talk about Faye circled back. “Is the White House supportive of your relationship?”
Lila stepped forward before I could tell the guy to fuck off. “We’re done,” she announced. “Thanks, everyone.”
A couple of reporters protested, talking over each other, some asking about me playing against my stepbrother, but Lila didn’t give them anything.
I stood up, pushed my chair in, and walked out without looking back. In the hallway, I exhaled hard.
