Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

The entire drive to the mall, I kept glancing at Justin. He was focused on the road. Both hands on the steering wheel. Completely calm, as if he hadn’t just decided to spend thousands of dollars on me without blinking. I sighed. "You know," I started.

He didn’t look away from the road. "Hmm?"

"We could still turn around," I said.

"No," he replied.

"I haven’t even finished my argument."

"I know," he said.

"So how can you say no already?"

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Because I already know what you’re about to say." He glanced at me briefly. "I can buy it myself. I don’t need your money. I’ll make the university laptop work. Was I close?"

I frowned. "I don’t like how well you know me."

"I love how well I know you," he replied easily.

I tried one last time. "Justin."

He looked at me. "This isn’t up for debate," he said. His voice wasn’t loud. It wasn’t angry. It was simply certain. "I’m buying you the laptop. End of discussion."

I opened my mouth. He raised one eyebrow. "Don’t." I closed it again. He smiled to himself. "Good."

I crossed my arms dramatically. "I cannot believe you just won an argument by saying one word."

"I said four," he replied.

I couldn’t help laughing despite myself.

The electronics store was enormous. Bright white lights reflected off rows of laptops, cameras, monitors, microphones, and editing equipment stretching from one end of the building to the other. For a moment I completely forgot why we were there. I turned slowly in a small circle, taking it all in.

"Oh," I breathed.

Justin noticed immediately. "What?"

"I’ve watched videos about this place," I said.

He smiled. "Really?"

I nodded, already drifting toward the displays almost unconsciously. "I used to watch filmmaking YouTubers review all this equipment. I knew which cameras they tested here. Which monitors." Professional editing monitors sat on one shelf. Color calibration tools beside them. Camera lenses. Audio recorders. I stopped in front of one particular laptop and my heart skipped completely.

"No way," I whispered.

Justin came to stand beside me. "You know this one?"

I laughed softly. "Know it? I’ve had this exact model saved in my bookmarks for almost two years." My fingers hovered just above the keyboard, almost afraid to touch it. "I used to watch comparison videos. Benchmarks. Editing tests. I even knew the price by heart." I glanced at the information card. Then laughed again. "It got more expensive."

Justin chuckled. "Inflation."

"I hate inflation," I said.

"I think everyone does," he replied.

A sales associate appeared beside us. "Can I help you?"

Before I could say a word, Justin smiled. "We’d like this one."

I turned so quickly I nearly gave myself whiplash. "What?"

The associate looked between us. "The laptop on display?"

"Yes," Justin said. "And a two-terabyte external SSD."

"Justin," I said.

He didn’t even glance at me. "Actually," he said, looking at the shelves, "make it four terabytes."

"Justin," I said again, louder.

"And add an extra backup drive," he continued.

"Justin."

He finally looked at me. "What did we talk about?"

I sighed. "That this wasn’t up for debate."

"Good," he said pleasantly. "I’m glad you remember."

The sales associate pressed her lips together very hard. I covered my face. "This is embarrassing," I muttered.

Justin leaned slightly closer to me. "You know what’s actually embarrassing?" he said quietly. "Someone trying to sabotage your education." His smile disappeared. "I’m not letting that happen."

Just like that, the argument dissolved completely.

An hour later we had the laptop, the backup drives, a protective case, an encrypted USB key Ryan had specifically recommended, and a surge protector because, according to Justin, "I’ve seen enough horror stories about power surges." I looked at him. "You’ve been researching."

"I had an hour," he said.

"That’s all it took?"

"I was motivated," he replied simply.

Ryan whistled the moment we walked back into his room. "Wow." He looked at the laptop with visible appreciation. "You didn’t mess around."

Justin shrugged. "If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly."

Ryan nodded approvingly. "I respect that." He carefully unpacked everything and got to work immediately. Installing the editing software. Enabling full encryption. Setting up automatic backups to three separate locations. Configuring two-factor authentication. I watched him move through each step with calm efficiency.

"Do people really do all of this?" I asked.

Ryan looked genuinely horrified. "You didn’t?"

I shook my head. "I thought one backup was enough."

He pointed at the external drives lined up on the desk. "One is none. Two is one. Three is peace of mind."

I laughed. "I’ll remember that."

By the time he finished, everything was configured and secured. He plugged in the recovered interview file. It appeared on screen immediately, perfectly intact. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding since he’d first recovered it.

Ryan smiled. "There. Now someone has to work significantly harder if they want to ruin your documentary."

I looked at him. "Thank you. I mean it."

He shrugged. "If you’d hired a professional forensic analyst, you’d owe them considerably more than gratitude."

Justin laughed. "We can do pizza."

Ryan’s eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Justin said.

On the drive back, I held the new laptop on my knees. I still couldn’t quite believe it was mine. It smelled brand new. The keyboard hadn’t even been broken in yet. I traced my fingers lightly over the lid.

"When I first started studying film," I said quietly, "I promised myself that one day I’d own something like this."

Justin glanced over. "And now?"

I smiled. "Now I’m terrified to scratch it."

He laughed. "That’s a completely normal reaction."

As we pulled into the university parking lot, I noticed the old university laptop sitting on the back seat. "I should return it," I said. Justin nodded. "I’ll wait."

I climbed out carrying both laptops, one under each arm. The contrast between them made me smile despite everything. One represented where I’d started. The other, maybe where I was going.

I knocked gently on Professor Silas’s office door. "Come in," he called.

I stepped inside. "Hi, Professor."

He looked up from his computer. "Harper." His eyes dropped immediately to the laptop in my hands. "I came to return the university laptop," I said.

His eyebrows pulled together. "Return it?" He slowly stood. "Why?"

I looked down at it for a moment. Then back at him. "I think someone used it to access my documentary."

Professor Silas’s expression changed instantly. "What?" He took one step toward me. The office suddenly felt very small and very quiet. "What exactly do you mean someone got into your documentary?"

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