Page 8 of Faking It For Real

"How's our favorite photographer?" he asked, and I could hear his smile. "Captured anything amazing this week?"

I told them about my classes and recent photography projects, carefully editing out my financial stress. They had enough to worry about.

"Actually, I got a new job today," I said, injecting enthusiasm into my voice. "I'm going to be the sports photographer for the hockey team."

"Hockey! That's wonderful, honey!" My mom sounded genuinely excited. "Your father loves hockey, don't you, Gabriel?"

"It's a beautiful sport," my dad agreed. "Very fast, very dramatic. Perfect for photography."

"I don't know much about it," I admitted.

"Ah, well, some basics for sports photography," my dad offered. "You want a fast shutter speed, at least 1/500 if the lighting allows. And anticipate the action—don't photograph where the players are, but where they're going to be."

I smiled, grateful for his practical advice rather than questions about why an art photography major was suddenly shooting sports. That was my dad—always supportive, never judgmental.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll try that."

We chatted for a few more minutes before I could hear the weariness in their voices. I knew they'd both be up early for work tomorrow.

"I should let you go," I said reluctantly. "Early practice tomorrow."

"We're so proud of you, Mia," my mom said. "Send us some of your hockey photos when you take them."

"I will. Love you both."

"Love you too, mi hija," my father said. "Remember what I taught you—a good photograph tells a story."

After hanging up, I sat for a moment in the quiet of my room, missing them with a familiar ache. Then I pulled out my camera equipment, checking everything meticulously. Whatever I thought about hockey, I was going to give this job my absolute best effort. My family deserved nothing less.

I set my alarm for a painfully early hour, determined to be professional and prepared for tomorrow's practice. Entitled athletes or not, this was now my job, and I took my work seriously.

As I fell asleep, I wondered what stories I'd find on the ice tomorrow morning. What moments would my camera capture? What narratives would emerge through my lens?

Probably just overpaid jocks chasing a puck, I thought cynically. But maybe, just maybe, there might be something more.

"Remind me again why I'm up at this ungodly hour?" Olivia grumbled as we trudged toward the university's hockey arena the next morning. The sun was barely rising, casting long shadows across the empty campus.

"Because you're a supportive friend?" I suggested, adjusting my camera bag.

"Try again."

"Because you conveniently have a 'journalistic interest' in observing hockey players up close?"

She pointed a finger at me. "That's the one. My professional curiosity demands satisfaction."

The truth was, I was grateful for her company. Walking into an unfamiliar sports environment alone was intimidating, even if I wouldn't admit it.

The arena was larger than I expected, with high ceilings and surprisingly sophisticated lighting. And colder—much colder than I'd anticipated. I shivered in my light jacket, wondering if it was too late to run back to the apartment for something warmer.

"Holy thermal shock," Olivia muttered, hugging herself. "Do they keep it this cold for the ice or to weed out the weak?"

"Probably both." I surveyed the space, trying to look like I belonged there. A few players were already on the ice, warming up with casual skating and passing drills. Their movements were more fluid and precise than I'd expected, almost graceful despite the bulky equipment.

"Okay, I'm going to set up over there," I told Olivia, pointing to a spot near the rink but hopefully out of the way. "Feel free to... do whatever it is you came to do."

"Observe. Journalistically." Olivia wiggled her eyebrows. "With my eyes. My very objective, professional eyes."

I shook my head, smiling despite my nerves, and headed to my chosen position. As I set up my camera, I mentally reviewed everything I'd learned about hockey last night, which admittedly wasn't much. I adjusted my settings for the challenging lighting conditions—bright ice, dark uniforms, rapid movement.

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