Page 32 of Until We Burn
“Mon Dieu,”I groan.
“I saw the signs!”
“You saw nothing!”
Rowan waves his hands, shutting us up. “Listen, I make it my life’s mission to disagree with Luke.”
“That’s true,” Luke chirps.
Regret warps Rowan’s face before he shakes his head. “But I don’t know, Kai. I’m starting to sense something.”
“I can tell you a hundred percent that Diana Huang is secretlylustingafter your ass,” Luke insists.
“Never say the word ‘lusting,’” I beg,“Please.”
“She’s fighting her feelings,” Wallace protests. “I can tell, Kai!”
I huff, plopping down to unlace my skates. “Guys, it doesn’t matter.”
“Itdoesmatter!” Luke bursts out.
I rip my skates off. “Look, my parents are already breathing down my neck about taking over the family business. I have to stay focused, or I don’t get signed. I won’t let Diana be the reason I don’t.”
My throat feels tight the moment the words tear out.
Except it’s true, no matter how hard it is to accept. This dream of playing for the NHL demands sacrifice.
Diana might take over my head more than she should, but that’s where she’ll have to stay if I ever want to get signed again.
CHAPTER 15
DIANA
I’ve madeup with Kai.
Now that we’ve called a truce, we can work together to finish Mellonbaum’s project and get an A with zero bloodshed.
Panic rises at the thought, stifling my relief because calling a truce also means I can’t keep Kai at arm’s length like I used to.
I rub my forehead, fighting to forget the softness in his smile or the slight rasp in his voice when he’s annoyed.
I don’t know how I’m going to pretend Kai doesn’t affect me when every part of me awakens for him.
“As you all know, yellow journalism was a style of reporting that published sensationalism over facts.” Adrian Howard, the media ethics professor, strides around the lecture podium with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I probably shouldn’t say ‘was,’ because yellow journalism is still alive and well today.”
He pauses at the podium. “Your work has power and consequences. Knowing that, what should journalists do to ensure they don’t fall into the shiny trap of sensationalism?”
I straighten up in my seat and raise my hand.
Adrian nods at me. “Go ahead, Diana.”
“I think a good place to start is to reinforce how we regard thepurpose of news stories,” I answer. “We have to remember that we’re here to inform. Not entertain.”
Adrian taps his chin and nods. “That’s a solid start. But what happens if the journalist is thinking, ‘Well, by informing the public with this compelling story, it can be fodder for fame and recognition?’”
“Then you’re in the wrong profession.”
Andrea Whitney’s voice speaks out from the opposite side of the room. She glares at me, looking surprisingly spiteful in a simple crewneck sweater and a claw clip binding her blonde hair.
