Page 21 of Ice Mechanic

“April, how do you know Chance Mclanely?” My sister shrieks.

I blink a few times. “I don’t.”

One misunderstanding, a conversation, a car ride, and a little knight-in-shining-armor-ing doesn’t count as reallyknowinga guy.

“Really? Because you two are all over social media.”

I jerk the truck to the side of the road, yank my phone from the cradle and set it to my ear. “May, say that again?”

“Our page isblowing up! This is crazy!” Her footsteps thud in the background. I can imagine my sister running back and forth in our worn living room, leaping and whooping loudly.

“May, you’re not making sense. Why would people care about our page just because our pictures got shared in the local group chat?”

“Local group—did you not hear me? I said you’re all over social media.”

“Sure. The town’s social media page.” Lucky Falls has its own social media branding manager, so it’s no surprise that they posted sightings of a famous hockey player.

“No, April. You don’t understand. You. Are.Blowing up.On. The. Internet.”

“Me?”

“Everyone wants to know who Chance Mclanley is dating.”

I choke. “D-did you just saydating?”

“Oh, this is great! I need to draft up a new social media calendar. The shophasto bank on the Chance momentum before it totally dies out. They say it’s not your fifteen minutes of fame, it’s what you do with them that counts.”

I am one hundred percent sure no one says that.

“I’ll see you at home,” May squeals. “Oh, and thanks for the burgers.”

As soon as May hangs up, I type in Chance’s name in the internet search bar.

There are millions of hits.

The top stories are:

Up-and-Coming Hockey Player Voted Sexiest Athlete Alive

Chance Mclanley Out of Chances

The Downfall of Chance Mclanley: How One Man Lost Everything

And right there underneath all the big headlines is an article that popped up literally minutes ago.

It’s a zoomed in picture of me, possibly at the worst angle that a camera could capture a face. My face looks splotchy, my hair looks like a giant ball of frizz and worst of all, Chance looks absolutely dashing in comparison.

The header simply reads ‘Chance McLanely, New Town and New Girlfriend. Who Is Mystery Girl?’

“New… girlfriend?”

My cellphone feels like it weighs a ton and my hand drops limply to the seat.

The internet thinksI’mdating Chance McLanely.

And they couldn’t be more wrong.

CHAPTER

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