The Price of Tuition

Summer

Summer Brooks did not have time for hockey players, reality television, or the systemic enabling of toxic masculinity.

She had a midterm in exactly forty-five minutes, a broadcast journalism portfolio to edit, and a checking account balance that currently read $14.32.

"Come on, Summer, just look at the numbers," her best friend, Chloe, pleaded, dragging her by the arm through the bustling corridors of the communications building.

“It’s not just a gig. It’s the gig. HypeTV is paying a production assistant stipend that could cover your entire semester’s housing."

"Chloe, I am a serious journalist," Summer said, balancing a stack of heavy textbooks in one arm and a lukewarm travel mug of cheap coffee in the other.

“I don’t want my resume to say I spent my senior year fetching oat milk lattes for reality TV producers who exploit college students for clicks."

"It’s an associate producer credit, Summer! Plus talent compensation if they use you on camera as a host or an interviewer," Chloe argued, sliding into step beside her as they reached the broadcast studio doors.

“And let’s face it. Since the university cut the departmental grant, you’re one late payment away from being kicked out of the dorms."

That hit a nerve. Summer stopped in her tracks, the weight of her reality crashing down.

Chloe wasn't lying. Summer’s father had lost his job over the summer, and the financial aid office at Eastern University had been utterly ruthless.

She was working two jobs one at the campus library and another transcribing audio files for a local news station and she was still drowning.

She had exactly two weeks to clear her outstanding tuition balance, or she wouldn't be allowed to register for her final semester.

"Who is the show even about?" Summer asked, sighing in defeat as she pushed open the door to the studio.

"They’re focusing on the athletic department," Chloe said, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Specifically, the hockey team. They’re trying to build a storyline around Jaxson Reed."

Summer’s stomach turned. "Reed? The guy who practically hospitalized a student outside the diner on Friday night? Are you kidding me? He belongs in a courtroom, not on a reality show."

“The school is covering for him," Chloe whispered.

"They need him for the championships. Rumor has it they're trying to find a girl to do a 'fake dating' storyline with him to make him look like a saint. They’re auditioning girls from the Greek system today."

"Disgusting," Summer muttered, setting her books down on a studio desk.

“That is exactly what is wrong with this campus. Athletes get a pass for everything because they can slide a piece of rubber into a net. He’s a privileged, reckless jock who thinks he’s untouchable. I’d love to get him under a studio light for ten minutes. I’d ask him the questions his PR team is terrified of."

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the broadcast studio swung open with a loud thud.

Professor Harrison, the head of the journalism department, stepped into the room, followed closely by a woman in a sharp white power suit, oversized sunglasses perched on her head, and an aura of intense, high octane stress.

"Summer," Professor Harrison said, pointing a finger directly at her.

“Thank goodness you’re here. Come with me to my office. This is Sarah Sterling, Executive Producer for HypeTV."

Summer blinked, casting a panicked look at Chloe before smoothing down her oversized thrift-store sweater.

“Uh, hello. Nice to meet you."

Sarah Sterling didn't shake her hand. Instead, she circled Summer like a hawk evaluating a particularly interesting mouse.

She looked at Summer’s dark, expressive eyes, her sharp jawline, and the fierce, unimpressed expression currently plastered across her face.

"She’s perfect," Sarah said, turning to Professor Harrison.

“The contrast is exquisite. The fierce, intellectual scholarship student versus the disgraced golden boy. The audience will eat her alive."

Summer’s brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, what am I perfect for? If this is about the production assistant position, I haven't submitted my written application yet—“

“Forget the PA position, sweetie," Sarah interrupted, waving a manicured hand dismissively.

“How would you like your entire college tuition paid in full, a guaranteed post-grad internship at network headquarters in New York, and a primetime television credit?"

Summer’s heart skipped a beat. The words tuition paid in full echoed in her mind like a lifeline thrown to a drowning swimmer.

“What's the catch?"

Sarah smiled, and it looked remarkably like a shark spotting blood in the water.

“We don't want you behind the camera, Summer. We want you in front of it. We want you to save the reputation of Eastern University’s star hockey player.”

“Meaning?” Sarah asked

“We want you to be Jaxson Reed’s new girlfriend."