I’m already annoyed when I walk into the café. Lisa is late. Again. She finally rushes in, hair too perfect, blazer too bright, acting like she’s the busiest person in the world. She slides into the booth across from me, laptop already open.
“Well?” I demand. “How did the meeting go?”
Lisa winces. Not a good sign. “The coaches… didn’t go for it,” she says carefully. “They’re backing Lena. Hard.”
I stare at her. “What do you mean backing Lena? She’s not even here. She’s not competing. She’s—”
“Recovering,” Lisa finishes. “And apparently that makes her a sympathetic figure. Coach Ramirez shut down the idea of shifting the narrative toward you.”
I clench my jaw. “That was the whole point of this. I need PR to support my side. If they don’t, how am I supposed to get Lena off the team?”
L
