Chapter 5 Chapter 5
PEARL’S POV
The rehabilitation session should’ve been the end of it. One annoying meeting, one arrogant hockey player and one university obligation.
Instead, my life somehow gets worse. By Wednesday morning, three separate people recognize me before I even reach my first class.
One girl smiles excitedly while passing me outside the library. Another whispers something to her friend while looking directly at me.
A guy near the coffee cart actually points. “The tunnel girl.” I nearly walk into a trash can.
My phone vibrates, Gift, I answer immediately. “If you’re calling to laugh at me, hang up.”
“That’s exactly why I’m calling, somebody made a fan page for you.” I stop walking. “A what?”
“A fan page.”
“That’s a prank right?”
“No girl, it’s not” I close my eyes and Gift starts laughing. “I hate this damn university.”
“You secretly love the attention.” I almost choke. “Gift, people are posting screenshots of my face.”
“At least they picked flattering screenshots.”
“I’m blocking you.”
“You say that every week.” Because unfortunately she’s my best friend and she knows it.
By lunchtime the situation somehow gets worse, a notification appears from Westbridge Daily.
New article published by Mia Bennett. The name sounds familiar, I tap it anyway, the article headline fills my screen.
THE GIRL WHO STOPPED DAVIS FORD
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” The article isn’t even about the fight, it’s about me, my classes, scholarship and my psychology research.
The fact that I became campus folklore overnight. Mia Bennett somehow interviewed students who know me, former professors and people from academic programs. Half of the article reads like a biography I never approved.
The comments are worse, some call me brave, others accuse me of chasing publicity. One person claims I’m secretly dating Davis already, another says I’m manipulating him. A third somehow concludes we’re soulmates.
People are definitely insane, I lock my phone and immediately unlock it again.
Read another comment, then another again and again. Gift catches me doing it an hour later. “Stop it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re reading comments.” I glare and she points. “See? Guilty face.”
“I don’t have a guilty face.”
“You absolutely do.” I shove my phone into my bag, the truth is the comments shouldn’t matter. They’re strangers, crazy random people online yet it still feels uncomfortable watching thousands of people build stories about my life from a twenty-second video.
By late afternoon, an email arrives. Ford Sports Group requests your presence for a meeting regarding rehabilitation coordination.
I stare at it then stare longer. The meeting is scheduled downtown, a fancy office building made almost entirely of glass. The lobby alone probably costs more than my tuition.
A woman at reception leads me upstairs. “Mr. Ford is waiting.”
Davis’ father or maybe his brother, neither option sounds enjoyable.
The office door opens. Felix Ford, older than Davis. He stands when I enter. “Miss Arlo.”
“Pearl is fine.”
“Please sit.”
I don’t trust polite people this polished, they usually want something. Felix folds his hands neatly across the desk. “No need to worry, this won’t take long.”
“I’m listening.” His expression remains perfectly composed. “As you’re aware, recent events have created challenges for Davis.”
Interesting way to describe a nationally televised meltdown. Felix continues. “Sponsors are concerned, scouts are watching and public perception matters.”
I stay quiet, “The tunnel video changed things, people responded positively to your interaction with Davis.”
I blink, “That’s not really my problem.” A faint smile touches his face. “No but it could become an opportunity.” Dangerous sentence, Felix slides a folder across the desk.
I don’t touch it, “What exactly are you asking?” His answer arrives immediately. “A six-month relationship.”
My brain stops. “A what?”
“A public relationship.” I stare, surely I heard wrong. Felix remains completely serious. Interviews, university appearances, media events, photographs, a documentary project, everything arranged professionally.
I keep staring waiting for the punchline but it never comes. “Oh my God.”
“Pearl…..”
“Are you serious.”
“Yes.”
“What the hell?”
For the first time all day, Felix actually looks barely uncomfortable. “The arrangement would benefit everyone involved.” I laugh, a short disbelieving sound.
“I’m not interested.”
“We can discuss compensation.”
“I’m sorry No”
“Future opportunities.”
“I said No.”
“Graduate funding……”
“What the fuck……NO!.” My chair scrapes sharply against the floor as I stand. “I am not fake dating your brother.”
Felix remains seated calmly. “I expected resistance.”
“You expected correctly.”
“Davis would participate as well.” That somehow makes it worse, I grab my bag. “This is insane.”
“Think about it first.”
“I already did.” Then I leave before I say something that gets me banned from the building.
The elevator ride down feels endless. By the time I reach street level, I’m furious like they looked at my life and saw a useful prop.
By evening, some of the anger fades. Unfortunately reality arrives instead. I sit across from my postgraduate scholarship advisor expecting good news.
Instead she slides several documents across the desk. Funding reductions, program uncertainty, placement cuts. The words blur together and my stomach drops slowly.
“The rehabilitation fellowship?”
“Still under review.”
“And the research placement?” Her silence answers, damn it…….I’ve spent years working toward those opportunities.
Now suddenly nothing feels secure anymore. When I reach my apartment, my feet ache, my head won’t stop throbbing, and all I want is ten minutes where nobody asks anything from me.
I drop my bag onto the couch, kick off my shoes then notice something sitting on the kitchen table.
An envelope which has my name written neatly across the front. Inside sits a contract, Ford Sports Group.
Six months, pages and pages of legal language, at the very bottom rests a handwritten note.
Think carefully before saying no……Felix Ford. I stare at it then my phone vibrates.
Unknown Number with one message. DAVIS FORD Did my brother already scare you away? My pulse stumbles, I stare at the screen then the contract then the screen again because there is only one reason Davis would know about the offer. He was maybe part of it all along.
