Page 6 of Faking It For Real

"Mmmhmm." Olivia wasn't convinced. "Well, speaking of things that aren't that bad, have you seen the latest about our university's pride and joy?"

She turned her laptop toward me. On the screen was a draft of an article about the hockey team's recent victory.

"'Wright Leads Wolves to Stunning Victory,'" I read aloud, raising an eyebrow. "Stunning?"

"Not my choice of words." Olivia took the laptop back. "If it were up to me, the headline would be 'Overprivileged Jocks Chase Rubber Disc, University Rejoices.'"

I snorted. "Tell us how you really feel."

"Oh, I'm saving that for my exposé on the athletic department's budget compared to the arts programs." She cleared her throat and began reading in an exaggerated sports announcer voice: "'Team captain Ethan Wright demonstrated exceptional leadership, scoring the winning goal with just twenty seconds remaining in the final period. Wright's performance has drawn attention from several NHL scouts, with rumors of first-round draft potential circulating among hockey insiders.'"

She looked up at me. "I've been watching sports channels. How am I doing?"

"You missed your calling as a sports commentator."

"Please. If I had to spend my career talking about pucks and balls with that level of reverence, I'd throw myself into the hockey net." She continued in her announcer voice: "'The Wolves' victory solidifies their position at the top of the conference standings, with Wright's sixteen goals this season setting a new university record—all while maintaining his perfect hair and brooding expression that makes freshman girls swoon.'"

I laughed. "I'm pretty sure that last part isn't in the actual article."

"It should be. That's actual journalism—telling the whole story." Olivia grinned, then looked past me. "Heads up. Editor alert."

I turned to see Mark, the newspaper's editor-in-chief, waving me over to his cluttered desk. My stomach clenched. I still didn't know why he'd asked for this meeting.

"Wish me luck," I murmured to Olivia.

"Break a lens," she replied cheerfully.

I made my way to Mark's desk, mentally preparing for bad news. Maybe they were cutting the photography department's already minuscule budget? Or worse, maybe someone had complained about my latest gallery installation in the student union?

"Mia, thanks for coming in." Mark gestured to the chair across from him. "Sorry for the mysterious summons."

"No problem." I perched on the edge of the seat, camera bag safely in my lap.

"I'll get right to it. Jake broke his leg yesterday. Skateboarding accident, apparently involving the library stairs and a dare from his roommate."

Jake was the paper's sports photographer, a perpetually rumpled senior with a talent for action shots.

"That's terrible," I said. "Is he okay?"

"Three fractures and a cast for the next three months." Mark ran a hand through his hair, looking harried. "Which leaves us without a photographer for the hockey season. Their next game is Saturday."

I blinked. "Wait, are you asking me to—"

"Fill in as sports photographer, yes." Mark leaned forward. "It would be a paid position, of course. Same rate as Jake was getting."

My heart skipped. Jake's sports photography position was one of the few paid gigs at the paper, specifically because of the irregular hours and technical skill required.

"How much?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

He named a figure that would cover my rent and photography supplies, with a bit left over. Not enough to solve all my financial problems, but enough to ease the immediate pressure.

"The catch is, you'd need to start immediately," Mark continued. "Team practice tomorrow morning, game coverage Saturday night, and regular coverage throughout the season. Can you handle that?"

Could I handle photographing a bunch of entitled athletes chasing a puck around an ice rink? For that amount of money?

"Absolutely," I said firmly. "I'll need to brush up on hockey basics, but I can handle the photography part no problem."

Mark looked relieved. "Great. You'll need to coordinate with Coach Alvarez about access to practices and games. His email's in the staff directory."

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