Page 31 of Faking the Goal

"Kentaro, you're here," Coach Hopper says, pulling my attention away from Taylor. He gestures toward the empty chair beside her. "Come in. Sit down."

"You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Yes. Ms. Lewis was just telling me about it."

For one horrible second, I wonder if she told him about Friday.

Maybe she complained about what I said. Maybe she wants Coach to reprimand me for it, and if that's the case, fine. I'll take whatever he has to say because I fucking deserve it.

Then Taylor turns around.

I'm expecting another glare. Maybe that same murderous look she gave me before walking away Friday night.

Instead, she smiles.

"Hi, Azuma."

I stare at her because there is so much fucking sweetness packed into those two words I'm surprised I don't immediately develop diabetes.

"Good to see you again," she adds cheerfully.

Now I'm concerned.

Three nights ago, this woman looked two seconds away from ripping my head off, and today she's practically radiating sunshine at me. I'd rather have the glare. At least the glare makes sense.

I take the chair beside her and look at Coach, maintaining the same expression I walked in with despite every instinct telling me that whatever is about to happen is going to piss me off. "What's this about?"

"Taylor was just explaining that Student Media is working on their Athlete Spotlight Series for the winter issue of The Ridgewater Chronicle." Coach leans back in his chair. "They've selected you for the next issue. Out of all the athletes on campus, you're the one they want to feature."

I glance at Taylor. She's nodding along with her notebook resting on her lap, wearing that same pleasant smile I don't trust for a fucking second.

"I'm not interested. They can choose someone else."

"Hear her out first," Coach says. "I actually think this could be good for you. You're already drawing attention from NHL scouts, and the closer you get to the draft, the more attention you're going to get. A strong feature like this gives people a chance to see more than what happens on the ice. Your work ethic, your discipline, the kind of player you are, the kind of person you are. That's good exposure for an athlete trying to take the next step."

"Scouts already have my numbers." I lean back in the chair. "They know how I play. If an NHL team is interested in me, it'll be because of what I do in net, not because somebody wrote a nice article about me."

"Your stats matter, obviously," Taylor finally says, and when I turn toward her, she's still wearing that suspiciously sweet expression. "But they're not the only thing people look at anymore. Teams aren't just evaluating whether you can stop a puck. They're looking at the entire package—how you train, how you handle pressure, what kind of teammate you are, how you carry yourself off the ice, how you deal with media. Basically, whether you're someone they want representing their organization."

I don't say anything, so she keeps going.

"And that's what a good profile can give you. Not some cheesy puff piece telling everyone how amazing you are, but a well-rounded story that puts something positive out there with your name attached to it. Something people can find when they look you up that shows there's more to Kentaro Azuma than a save percentage and a permanent scowl." Her smile widens when my eyes narrow. "It's good PR, Azuma. You get to show people who you are instead of letting them make up their own version based on thirty-second interviews and whatever they see during games."

"And what version are you planning to give them?"

"The best one I can." She sits a little straighter, looking irritatingly confident now. "We'll make you look good. I'll make you look good. I'm good at making people look good. It's literally my job."

I stare at her for a few seconds, trying to decide whether that was supposed to reassure me.

It doesn't.

"What exactly would I have to do?"

Her smile somehow gets brighter, and immediately, I know I'm going to regret asking.

"I'd follow you around for four weeks. Not every second of every day," she says and my expression immediately hardens. "Practices, workouts, some of your normal routine outside hockey. I'll take pictures, do a few interviews, ask you questions about your background, your goals, what you do when you're not playing—"

"You want to follow me around for four weeks. Take pictures. Ask personal questions."