Page 38 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son
“Exactly.” Vince’s shoulders slump.
Coach glowers at me. “You shouldn’t have involved my son.”
I pale.
Shit.
“As if toying with his feelings is not sufficiently terrible.” Coach sighs.
I blink. Toying with Oskar’s feelings?
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“That’s, um...” Oskar coughs, then gulps down some water. He coughs again. “Um.”
I pat Oskar’s back. Normally, Oskar is more articulate.
Finally, Coach stands. “This is outrageous.”
“You’ve made this situation far worse,” Vince says.
“And now the team could be liable,” Daniela adds.
“I just want to stay in the US.” My voice comes out smaller than I intend.
“You’ll be lucky if you can visit as a tourist in the future.”
My eyes widen. My organs crumple together, sending waves of blood rushing through my body in odd directions.
I am discombobulated. I am not myself.
Oh, God.
It’s all ending.
I’m going to have to go back.
Oskar flicks a worried gaze at me, then squares his shoulders. “We can still control the narrative.”
“But—”
“Newspapers haven’t reported the wedding yet,” he says, and something in his tone makes me look up.
Coach exhales heavily. “You’re right.”
“Or maybe they’re waiting outside the arena right now,” Daniela says, her fingers flying over her phone screen.
“Maybe,” Oskar says, and I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to make me feel better.
My heart skitters.
“There are loads of pictures of Oskar at games,” Daniela says slowly. “And with Dmitri.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Coach asks. “This is a major problem!”
“This is salvageable. What if,” Daniela leans forward, “we say they married for love?”
Vince shakes his head. “No one will believe that.”
