Page 13 of Wrong Score

Autumn's smirk grows wider. "Maybe there's more to him than meets the eye. You know, Pepe La Pew was a skunk too."

I lift a confused brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugs innocently. "Oh, nothing. Just an observation."

Before I can press her further, our nail estheticians return to remove the wax and start on our pedicures. As she begins working on my toes, I can't help but mull over Autumn's words. More to Bex than meets the eye? Unlikely. The man is as transparent as they come – grumpy, stubborn, and seemingly determined to make my job as difficult as possible.

I shake my head, dismissing the idea that something runs deep in that man. No, Coach Bex is exactly what he appears to be – a thorn in my side and an obstacle to overcome in my quest to prove myself and pave the way for me to make a name for myself.

"So," Keely says, breaking me out of my thoughts, "What's your game plan for dealing with Bex on the away games?"

I sigh, watching the esthetician start to apply a base coat. "Honestly? I'm not sure. I was hoping to keep a low profile, you know? Just observe, take notes, maybe get a few quotes here and there. But now..."

"Now you feel like you have something to prove," Autumn finishes for me.

I nod. "Exactly. I can't let him think he's intimidated me into backing off. But I also don't want to overstep and give him a real reason to complain to Sam or Phil."

Keely reaches over and pats my arm. "You'll figure it out, Ro. You're smart and talented. Just... maybe try to stay on his good side to make it easy for you to get what you need."

I laugh. "Me? Stay on his good side? I think you've got it backward, Keely. He's the one who seems to have it out for me."

"You know, sometimes when two people clash like this, it's because they're more alike than they realize," Zoey says with a raised brow.

I nearly choke on air. "Excuse me? I am nothing like Bexley Townsend."

"Are you sure about that?" Autumn challenges, her eyes twinkling. "You're both passionate about your work, dedicated to your respective fields, and from what I've seen, equally stubborn."

I open my mouth to protest, but no words come out. As much as I hate to admit it, Autumn might have a point. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.

"Even if that's true," I say finally. "It doesn't change the fact that he sees me as the enemy. How am I supposed to do my job if he's constantly trying to shut me out?"

Keely leans in, her voice low so that no one else in the salon can hear us. "You know, Reeve once told me that the key to getting through to Bex is to prove your dedication. Show him that you care about the game and the team as much as he does."

I consider this for a moment. "So, what? I should start reciting hockey stats and showing up to every practice?"

Autumn shakes her head. "He thinks you're a reporter that only cares about the story and not about the game, right? Then show genuine interest and respect for what they do. And he's obviously reading your articles. So, show him that you're not just there for bridge troll headlines but to tell the real story of the team's journey."

As much as I hate to admit it, their advice makes sense. I've been so focused on defending myself against Bex's accusations that I haven't really taken the time to prove him wrong. Maybe a change in approach is exactly what I need.

"Alright," I say, a fresh new outlook settling over me. "I'll give it a shot. But if he still acts like the grumpy honey badger that I know he is deep down inside, all bets are off."

Keely and Autumn laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating.

"That's the spirit," Autumn says, raising her hand for a high-five. "Now, let's focus on more important matters. What color are you thinking for your toes?"

I send one last text off to my sister.

Rowan: We’re still on for Valentine’s?

Jordan: Yep, see you tomorrow night.

As me and the girls dive into a heated debate about the merits of 'Ballet Slippers' versus 'Bikini So Teeny', I can't help but feel grateful for these moments of girl talk. In the whirlwind of hockey drama and journalistic challenges, it's nice to remember that sometimes, the biggest decision you have to make is what shade of pink looks best on your toes.

Chapter Five

Rowan

I settle into my seat near the back of the Hawkeyes jet, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. This is it—my first away game with the team. I've been both dreading and anticipating this moment ever since Sam gave me the green light to travel with them. As I unzip my carry-on, I can't help but feel like I'm stepping into uncharted territory.

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