Page 6 of Not that Impressed
Stop it.
He’s not that bad.
It’s just a collab.
It’s going to get me so many new followers.
Ellie
I think it’s awesome, Isla. I really do.
CHAPTER 4
WILL
When Charlie told me he was going to help with the school supply drive with Janelle on Tuesday, I jumped on board. Some of the other guys on the team were getting together for a beach day down in Galveston, team bonding and all that, but I’m glad for the excuse not to go. I love my guys, but I can’t take anymore jokes about me and Coach’s wife.
They mean well, trying to make light of Ellie bringing back up the gossip-that-must-not-be-named on Friday, but I can’t force any more smiles like it’s all funny to me.
I was wrong to judge Ellie Bennet the way I did at Charlie’s party. I can recognize that even if I don’t like her. Sure, I know better than to believe rumors, but embarrassing me to prove her point wasn’t necessary. Especially in front of my team like that.
I’m used to having my mistakes pointed out. I’m not a perfect football player, despite how hard I worked to get here. I can take it.
Humiliating me was a step too far.
Going to the charity drive, despite it putting me squarely in Ellie’s sights again, shows the guys that I’m not bothered by what she said. I can take the higher road and prove that I’m the good guy, not the troll she labeled me as.
There’s a good number of cars in the parking lot of the school where we’ll be working, putting together school supply kits for refugee kids. I recognize Gabriella, the wife of Colby Duncan, a receiver on the Pumas, making her way inside as we park, which doesn’t surprise me. She’s well-connected in the Houston influencer world, and with the rumors that she’s running for city council next year, she’s likely looking for opportunities like this to serve the city.
A woman holding a few iPads stops us at the door to the gymnasium. “Hi, welcome. Can I get your names?” she asks, flicking on the iPad at the top of the stack.
I tense. This is already very different from the service events I’ve been to in the past. This one has security? I look inside, and milling among the volunteers are at least three camera operators, cameras on their shoulders, panning the room. I sigh. Of course the crew forBeing the Bennetsis here. I stifle the urge to believe this is all for appearances—know better, do better.
“Charlie Baldwin and Will Pemberton,” Charlie says before I can overthink it too much.
She hands over an iPad to Charlie after a couple of swipes.
“Here’s our waiver to sign and permission for us to film you.” Once she hands it off, she gets a second one ready for me.
“What if we don’t want to be filmed?” I’m not here for five minutes of fame onBeing the Bennets. Besides, after last year, I’ve started limiting who gets to film me. Football games, obviously. Media events—if they’re mandated by the coach or the team, I’ll go. Otherwise, no thanks. My publicist uses football film that already exists for my social media accounts. This is just another avenue to make stuff up about me and judge me.
The woman blinks at me. “Um…”
“Will,” Charlie mutters. He’s already signed his and holds out the iPad to her.
“I, uh … we’d have to ask you to leave.” She shakes herself out of the surprise that someone wouldn’t want to be on camera. “I’m sorry, but there are too many people here, and it would take us too many hours to edit you out.” She shrugs.
I look at Charlie and he rolls his eyes. I know this isn’t a big deal, but it makes me nervous all the same. Maybe I’m on edge about it more than usual because of what happened with Ellie. Even if the fallout this time is mostly just ribbing from the team, it’s hard to forget the times last year when it felt like everywhere I looked someone was talking about me and Coach’s wife.
“Fine, okay,” I mutter, taking the iPad she’s holding in my direction. “But I’m not talking on camera.”
“Okay. Sure.” She smiles at Charlie, glances at me when she takes my iPad back, and then smiles. “Welcome. Thanks for coming to help.”
“Way to be a diva,” Charlie says under his breath when we’re through the doors. “I know you don’t love cameras, but this is just a service project. Same as the ones we do with the team.”
I clench my jaw. “I’m not here for a cameo onBeing the Bennets.”
Charlie sighs, sounding long-suffering, and I glare at him. “Nobody’s here for that,” he says. “There’s a reason we had to be checked in. Everyone volunteering with this event has been vetted by Janelle, and the only reason it’s getting filmed is because she has a contract with the show and because it spreads the word.”
