Faking It With The Hockey Star

Justin’s POV

I stepped out of Coach Reynolds’ house feeling lighter than I had when I’d walked in. Not because everything was fixed. The scouts were still coming. The rumors were still spreading. But at least Coach understood now. He wasn’t asking me to choose anymore. He was just scared I’d lose sight of what I’d worked for.

Mrs. Reynolds smiled as I reached the front door. "Take care of yourself, Justin," she said warmly.

"I will," I replied.

"And tell that sweet girlfriend of yours I said hello."

I smiled for the first time all afternoon. "I will."

She squeezed my shoulder. "Don’t let the internet decide who you are."

"I won’t," I said.

I climbed into my truck and sat there for a minute before starting the engine. I didn’t want to go home. Not yet. I wanted to see Harper. Just being around her usually made everything quieter.

My phone buzzed. Ryan. I’d specifically told him to leave the anonymous account alone. I opened the message anyway.

Ryan: I know you told me to leave it alone...

Another message appeared almost immediately.

Ryan: Something didn’t sit right with me.

Then another.

Ryan: So I traced the account.

My grip tightened around the phone. A final message came through.

Ryan: Justin... I think you need to see this.

Screenshots followed. IP logs. Linked accounts. Recovery email information. A name highlighted in yellow.

Vanessa Hale.

Below it, another screenshot. A private group chat. Vanessa. Diane. Anonymous account drafts. Photos of Harper. Captions. Plans, laid out deliberately, one after another.

My pulse roared in my ears. This wasn’t some random troll. It had been planned. Every lie. Every post. Every comment designed to make people question who Harper was. My jaw clenched so hard it ached.

For one terrifying second I wanted to drive straight to my father’s house and demand answers. Demand to know why the people closest to him were working together to destroy the girl I loved.

Instead, I closed my eyes. Coach’s voice came back. Don’t let them distract you. I took one slow breath. Then another. Not today. I knew exactly where I needed to be.

By the time I pulled onto Harper’s street, the sun had started dipping lower. I spotted her house immediately. Then I saw the unfamiliar luxury SUV parked outside. A woman stood on the front porch. Perfect hair. Designer handbag. Perfect posture.

Diane.

My entire body went still. I couldn’t hear the words at first. Only the tone. Sharp. Deliberate. Then Harper’s voice, calm and steady. "Please leave."

Diane laughed softly. "Oh, don’t act so innocent." I quietly opened the truck door. "You’ve done enough damage already."

"Damage?" Diane scoffed. "You’ve attached yourself to a wealthy boy and suddenly you’re the victim?"

Harper folded her arms. "I’m asking you one last time. Leave."

Instead of moving, Diane took one step closer. "Tell me, where’s your mother? I’d love to meet the woman who raised such a calculated little girl."

Something inside me snapped completely. Harper didn’t react. She simply stood there. Quiet. Controlled. But I saw the way her fingers curled into her palms. The way her shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. She was holding herself together. Barely.

Diane kept talking. "I suppose she’s teaching your siblings how to live off other people too."

"DIANE!"

My voice cut across the yard. Both women turned. Diane’s smug smile disappeared the instant she saw me. "Justin—"

"What the hell are you doing here?" I said, walking straight toward them.

She recovered quickly. "I was just having a conversation."

"No," I said, stepping past her until I was standing directly beside Harper. "You were harassing my girlfriend."

"I was trying to help you," she said.

"You’ve done enough."

Her smile faltered. "I don’t know what your father sees in that girl—"

"I wasn’t asking for your opinion," I said, my voice going frighteningly calm. "I asked what you’re doing on her property."

She looked offended. "I came because someone had to tell her the truth."

I laughed once, without any humor in it. "The truth. You’ve spent weeks spreading lies about her. You encouraged an anonymous account. You tried to ruin her reputation. And now you show up at her house." I held her gaze. "Leave. Now."

She folded her arms. "And if I don’t?"

I pulled out my phone. "Then I call my father and tell him exactly what you’ve been doing. And if that doesn’t work," I looked her straight in the eye, "I call the police and report you for harassment."

The silence that followed was long enough to be its own answer. The confidence she’d walked in with slowly evaporated. "You’ve changed," she said quietly.

"No," I replied. "I finally stopped letting people bully the people I love."

Another silence. Then Diane picked up her handbag. "This isn’t over," she said.

"It is for today," I replied.

She glared at Harper one last time before turning toward her SUV. I waited until she climbed in. Waited until the engine started. Waited until the vehicle disappeared around the corner. Then I finally turned to Harper.

She was still standing on the porch, holding herself together with everything she had. Her eyes were glossy. Her hands were trembling slightly at her sides. She gave me a tiny, tired smile. "I was handling it," she said.

"I know," I said softly, stepping closer. "You were doing an incredible job." I wrapped my arms around her without another word. She leaned into me immediately, and I held her there while the neighborhood stayed quiet around us.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. The silence felt safer than any words could have.

Then my phone vibrated again. Ryan. One new message.

Ryan: Justin... there’s something else.

Ryan: I don’t think Diane was the one running this.

Ryan: She was helping.

Ryan: The account actually belongs to someone much closer to Ethan.

My stomach dropped. I opened the attachment. The name on the screen made my blood run cold.

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