Page 51 of Faking the Goal

I groan. "Jesus Christ."

"You wanted to understand what I do."

"I wanted to interview you. Maybe take some nice pictures of you looking broody near a goalpost. I don't remember agreeing to hockey lessons."

"You didn't."

"Glad we cleared that up."

"I'm adding it now."

I stare at him. "Excuse me?"

"Until you learn the basics, I'm not answering your interview questions or letting you take any photos for the feature."

My mouth drops open. "You cannot be fucking serious."

"I am."

"You already agreed to cooperate!"

"And I am cooperating."

"This is your idea of cooperation?"

"Yes."

The absolute audacity of this man.

"What other requirements are you planning to pull out of your ass?" I demand. "Do I need to learn how to sharpen your skates too? Take a slapshot to the face? Let one of your defensemen body-check me into the boards so I can really understand the full hockey experience?"

"Not necessary."

"Oh, how generous."

"For now, you only need to learn how to skate."

I stop trying to move. "For now?"

He looks at me, and there's the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes.

Oh, I don't like that.

"Since we're talking about it," he says, "I have two rules if you want my full cooperation."

"Of course you do."

"First, I can add requirements if I think they're necessary for you to understand what you're writing about."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, you can't just keep making shit up whenever you feel like it."

"I can."

"That's not how agreements work, Azuma."