Chapter 26
“Hello?” I sounded as nervous as I felt.
“What’s up, Jazz?” Lamar greeted me.
“How are you? How was your day?”
“Typical Monday—we watch tape, we practice, we review. But one thing happened that was different: They had me break down what I saw on the first play of the game for me to get to the quarterback. That was a first.”
My nerves melted away hearing his excitement. Grinning, I pulled my legs onto the couch. “That’s so cool! How did it feel?”
“I’m not gonna lie, it felt good. It was nice having my hard work get recognized in front of my teammates and coaches like that.
It’s one thing in the game when we’re all feeling it.
It’s another thing to be a spectator and watch it on the screen, break down the plays.
And remember when you suggested a class on contract law for the rookies who opted to not have an agent?
Well, I was introduced to a woman today who just so happened to be a retired contract lawyer. ”
“What?! That’s amazing! That’s the final piece. You have everything else you need if you can get her. Did you ask?”
“Nah, we were about to start practice. She was with someone in the front office. She was with the defensive coordinator’s mom or something. I don’t remember because once she said what she did, all I could think about was calling you.”
I bit down on my bottom lip, giddy. “Well, I hope you at least got her name.”
“And her email address.”
“Okay, I see you!” I giggled.
“Now tell me how you’re doing,” he insisted.
“I’m…” My words faded out, and my cheeks flushed. “It’s been a day.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
The comments flashed in my mind, and anxiety washed over me. The fact that people weren’t voting for him because of me weighed on me. The risk of rejection, the public and private embarrassment, and the uncertainty of how our friendship would survive immobilized me.
“Jazz,” he uttered. “Talk to me.”
Just say it. I ordered myself to tell him about the social media shitshow. I opened my mouth, and no words would come out.
Swallowing my feelings, I changed the subject. “This school year is going to be a beast, and I’m overwhelmed with how much they expect us to do outside of actually teaching.”
“Oh shit, already? School just started! What are they asking you to do?”
He listened as I went over the information that they’d shared in the newsletter that morning and how we were supposed to be meeting about it after work on Tuesday.
“When are you supposed to have time to do all that?” he wondered.
I threw my hand in the air. “That’s what I’m saying!”
“They’d feel funny if you quit.”
I laughed. “Quit and do what?”
“Something you’re really passionate about. Writing books or something football related. Maybe running an organization designed to prepare athletes for professional ball.”
“That would be the dream.” I sighed. “Maybe one day.”
“I’d like to see that.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
“Well, I was going to see what you were doing tomorrow so I could see you, but you’ll be at the meeting.”
“Unfortunately,” I groaned. “But I really would like to see you. And soon.”
“Friday?” he suggested. “I’ll send a car for you or give you gas money—whatever I have to do to make it easier for you.”
Grinning, I placed my hand over my heart. “Lamar, you don’t have to do that. But I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“I’m asking you to come see me, so I’m going to make it easier for you,” he reiterated. “So, which would you prefer, getting driven up here or driving yourself?”
“I guess to get driven.”
“Done.”
My eyebrows flew up. “Really? That easy?”
“Come on, Jazmyn, you know that you can get anything you want from me.”
Every time the words came out of his mouth, I melted a little more. “I love”—my heart seized as I realized what almost slipped out of my mouth—“when you say that.”
He paused and my stomach plummeted.
Did he hear that? Does he know?
“You love…?” His voice was deeper, and his words were slower and more deliberate. “You love when I say you can get anything you want from me?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“And I mean it.”
“That’s why I love it,” I explained softly.
“Jazz…” He let out a faint groan. “You have no idea.”
We got off the phone a little while later, and I was still twisted up in knots about my Freudian slip.
I wasn’t in denial about my feelings for Lamar. But I wasn’t ready to share them. The last time I’d shared how I felt about us being together, he hadn’t said anything. If I told him I loved him and he didn’t say anything, it would be much worse.
I pursed my lips, determined not to get annoyed all over again.
He really didn’t say anything, I thought, annoyed.
Later that night, I was in bed, under the covers, a few minutes from sleep, when my phone rang.
“Hey, Nina,” I answered sleepily.
“Hey, so…”
Her serious tone forced my eyes all the way open and my mind to be alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Umm, I just came across something … alarming and mostly confusing, and I’m just a little perplexed.”
“About?”
“Did you create an anonymous social media page and announce yourself to be Hollywood Anderson’s girlfriend?”
My entire face contorted as I tried to make sense of what she’d said. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait … what?”
“Hollywood Anderson’s girlfriend,” she repeated.
I rolled onto my back and stared at my ceiling in confusion. “Well, first of all, I don’t call him ‘Hollywood.’ And second, you know I would never.”
“I didn’t think so, but I needed to confirm,” she said in a teasing tone. “So, I’m about to text you something. This post popped up, and I just…”
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it away from my face to see it.
The image was a plus-sized woman in a skintight bodysuit. Her back was to the camera, so she was showing off her curves, namely her ass. Her honey-blonde-tinted locs were pulled into a ponytail. You couldn’t see her face, but we were similarly shaped. I read the caption underneath the photo.
“‘All this talk about me being Hollywood’s girl, so why don’t I just speak for myself,’” I read aloud. My eyes got wide. “What the fuck is this?”
“Someone trying to capitalize off the attention you’ve been getting the last few days. And this lady, who has already gotten thousands of followers and has ‘Hollywood’s girl’ in her bio, is absolutely going to stir the pot. You need to do something.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Lamar’s the internet’s flavor of the week right now. If he remains unclaimed, people will try to claim him. Case in point, the lady pretending to be you.”
“So, I should do what? Tell him I want to make it official, let his decision to be with me ruin his career, and then watch him resent me for the rest of our lives?”
“Yes,” Nina replied plainly. “You’re not the problem here. So, if he resents you for anything, he’s not who you think he is. And—Russell Long! Thank you!” Nina squealed out of the blue. “I’m on the phone with Jazz. Give me one minute, and then I can thank you properly. Jazz, Russ says hi.”
“Tell Russ I said hi,” I told her. “Spend time with him. It’s past my bedtime anyway.”
“Okay, I’ve reported the page as fraud but just wanted you to be aware. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
We said good night, and I lay awake for thirty minutes going over that woman’s social media page.
The first picture she posted was the cropped photo of me and Lamar.
The second photo was the one of her from the back.
The comments on the image of us ranged from complimentary to confused.
The comments on the image of her were about her courageousness, but a surprising amount were downright derogatory.
It was an odd sensation because even though they were speaking about her, they thought they were talking about me.
So, the words were mean, but I almost felt disconnected.
At least no one knows it’s really me.
I was about to put my phone down when I saw a name that made my blood boil.
Olivia Chapman.
I’d blocked her and every other person in her group back in high school. Unless she’d created an account under a different name, there was no reason I should be seeing her content. But since her video came up as a related topic, I couldn’t resist clicking on the video.
“I went to high school with the woman in the photo. And I can guarantee you Lamar ‘Hollywood’ Anderson went to that event as a favor. He was doing charity work. He grew up in the town next to ours, and he’s a nice guy.
We hung out a little bit over the summer, and if you want to know his type, it’s me. ”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered, rolling my eyes at her bold-faced lie.
I woke up late Tuesday morning, so I was rushing to work. I called to check on Aunt Addy as I was getting off the highway. Monica answered the phone on speakerphone.
“How are you, Aunt Addy?” I asked.
“She woke up and felt a little tired, but she checked her messages and had a smile on her face,” Monica called out.
“Aunt Addy, did you read my text?” I wondered as I sped toward the school.
So, I’ve gone on dates—even had a whole thing with Lamar. I’ve written my book and explored a new city. I got my tattoo, my belly ring, and dyed my hair blue. I’ve learned how to swim and was a vegetarian for a month. That’s eight things, Aunt Addy!”
Reflecting on what I’d accomplished and saying it out loud gave me an unexpected dopamine and serotonin boost. I felt proud.
“Your aunt is smiling,” Monica reported. “What are your remaining things?”
“Go to a Monarchs game—which I plan to do this weekend. I haven’t gotten tickets yet, but I’m supposed to be arranging that with Lamar.”
There was a pang in my chest because it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for me to go to the game this upcoming weekend.
“That’s only nine,” Monica pointed out.
I laughed as I backed into my parking spot. “The last one is pay off my student loan. Aunt Addy put that on there. At one point she said the book sales were going to take care of it.” I shook my head, amused. “I wish!”
“I think Addison is right.”