Scoring Wilder(58)

The worst part was that Liam was absolutely right. Later that night, Emily ran into my room with wide eyes and her computer cradled in her arms. Becca and I had been watching Bridesmaids, but we paused it when we saw the look on her face.

"Did you have that interview today?" she asked warily.

I sat up off the bed. "Yes, earlier. Why?"

She twisted her computer around and showed me the front page of a popular sports website.

"Romance Between Olympic Hopefuls" was spelled out in giant letters across the top of the screen. The photo that accompanied it made me want to throw up. Josh had his arm around the back of my chair and we were both smiling wide. The worst part of all was that he was glancing toward me affectionately. While at the time, I’d wanted to kick the legs out from under his chair, to the untrained eye, the photo was damning evidence.

"What the hell!?" I shouted, hopping off my bed to get a better view. I had to hand it to the magazine. In less than four hours they’d started putting up teasers and photos to promote the article that would run sometime in the next few days. Those scumbags were timely.

"That f*cking reporter! This article was supposed to be about soccer, not about me and Josh."

I wound my fingers through my hair and squeezed my eyes shut.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Liam was right. Reporters were not to be trusted. On top of everything else going on, I could now add this article to the top of the list.

I snatched my phone, called my mom, and filled her in.

"Can we fight it?" I asked, pacing back and forth as Becca and Emily watched on with shocked expressions.

"We'll have to wait and see what the article talks about. Perhaps they wanted to play up a potential romance in the teasers so that the article will be more popular. Don't worry about this. The photo was harmless and you look beautiful. Try and get some sleep and we'll deal with everything once we know more."

"I just feel so used, Mom. They said it would be about soccer and my tryouts. I'm beginning to realize that no one actually cares about my soccer career. They're making me famous the same way reality stars are famous. Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, and Kinsley!”

"Don't you think that's all the more reason to focus on the Olympic tryouts? Remember this when you're pushing yourself to train harder. I think it's best if we steer clear of any more articles and I'll have your father's PR people release a statement explaining that you're single and your main focus right now is on soccer and nothing else. We'll clear this up."

I sighed, already feeling better. "Okay, thanks Mom."

"Love you, hang in there. It'll get better."

When I hung up, Becca and Emily didn't say a word. They were both looking for me to make the first move.

"Let's pretend that this isn't happening and go back to watching the show."

"Sounds like a plan," Becca nodded and hit play. I went back to my bed, grabbed the covers, and huddled underneath them. For the rest of the night, I pretended that my life was very simple, like all that I had to focus on was laughing at the jokes on Bridesmaids and hanging out with my two friends.

I would not become Kinsley Kardashian.

…

The full article was released the next day and was plastered across every website I could find, from TMZ to the New York Times. I didn't bother reading it. I knew it would be bad based on the accompanying photos. They'd cropped and manipulated every single one to make it appear as if Josh and I were together. A happy, Olympic couple. Gag me. Or better yet, gag Josh.

I'd let my father's PR team take care of it from my end. They'd release the statement about the false claims and I'd worry about the things I could actually control, which at that point was one thing: soccer.

I went to the fields early and ran sprints. I did some weight training and tried to use all my pent up energy on something productive. By the time practice started, I was pensive and tired.

Liam was in a terrible mood as well, worse than I'd ever seen before. When we split up into positions, he was snappy with all of us. His mood was distracting me and I kept mixing up the formations.

Finally, he snapped at me. "Kinsley, get your head in the game. This isn't that hard, and you've had all summer to work on it." His tone was harsh and a few of the girls stood watching him with a gaping mouth.

Tara, who was only a few feet behind me, muttered, "Uh oh, are the lovers fighting?"

A few of the upperclassmen snickered, and in that moment I lost it. There was only so much I could take and getting yelled at by Liam in front of my enemies was the straw that broke my freaking back.

I spun around on my cleats and pointed directly at Tara. "You know what? I'm so sick of your shit. What kind of captain tries to sabotage their own team? Do you even realize what you're doing? What's the f*cking point of it all? So you can snicker about me with your friends after practice? Newsflash, Tara: No one f*cking likes you. I bet Sofie and the other seniors are only friends with you because you've blackmailed them as well—"

"Stop," Liam yelled, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me back. I hadn't even realized I was in Tara's face until suddenly I was being dragged away.

“I would start cleaning out my locker if I was you, Bryant,” she spoke with an eerie calmness, but I could practically see the wheels spinning in her head. I'd just awoken the beast and I was about to pay for it. Her eyes were sharp and her lips were twisted into a calculating smile.