Chapter 7
SCARLETT
I’M UP EARLIER THAN usual because I’ve been tracking Gabriel’s schedule. He runs most mornings before the sun is fully up, usually the same route around the campus. But today, he’s not heading toward the track or the quad.
He’s going in the direction of the athletic center.
I follow at a distance, keeping enough space between us so that he won’t notice me if he turns around. The campus is mostly empty at this hour, with just a few early risers heading to the gym or grabbing some coffee.
Gabriel’s shoulders are set and his pace quick. He’s wearing sweats and a hoodie, his hands shoved in his pockets.
He disappears into the athletic center, and I wait a little before following him inside. The hallway is quiet, and I can hear his footsteps echoing ahead of me. I stay back, moving carefully so that my shoes don’t make any noise on the tile floor.
He stops in front of Coach’s office and knocks. A voice from inside tells him to come in, and he opens the door and steps through.
I move closer to the door. It’s cracked open just enough, so I can hear voices.
“Thanks for meeting me so early, Coach,” Gabriel says. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but this is important.”
“No problem. What’s going on?”
“It’s about Zyair.”
I pull out my phone and start recording, holding it close to the crack in the door.
“Zyair?” Coach sounds surprised. “What about him?”
“He’s been struggling lately,” Gabriel says. “He’s got some family stuff going on, and I think it’s affecting him. He doesn’t want to say anything because he doesn’t want to let the team down, but I think he needs some time off.”
“Family stuff? What kind of family stuff?”
“I don’t want to get into the details because he asked me not to say anything. But I think it would be good for him to have a break, just for a game or two. Give him some space to deal with what’s going on.”
“I appreciate you telling me this,” Coach says. “I’ll talk to him and see what’s going on.”
“No, don’t do that,” Gabriel says quickly. “He’d kill me if he knew I told you. I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t want this to mess with the team. He just needs help, and I thought you should know.”
“All right. I won’t say anything to him directly. But I’ll keep an eye on him and give him some space if he needs it.”
“Thanks, Coach. I just want to make sure everyone’s okay.”
“You’re doing the right thing, looking out for your teammates like this. That’s what being a captain is about.”
I hear footsteps, and I pull back quickly, ducking around the corner before the door opens. Gabriel comes out, and I press myself against the wall, watching as he heads back down the hallway and out of the building.
I stay where I am for a moment, thinking about what I just heard.
Gabriel just told Coach that Zyair had family issues and needed some time off. But why? Does he actually care about his teammate? Or is there something else going on?
It doesn’t make any sense. Gabriel doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who looks out for other people unless it benefits him somehow. But he sounded genuine, and Coach seemed to believe him completely.
I replay the recording on my phone. Gabriel sounds protective of Zyair’s privacy but still willing to speak up for his sake. Maybe he really cares about his teammates.
But something about this feels off. I can’t put my finger on it, but my instincts are screaming that there’s more to it than Gabriel just being a good captain and that there’s some kind of benefit for him.
Or maybe I just can’t imagine there’s any good in him.
I shove my phone back into my pocket. Whatever game Gabriel is playing, I’m going to figure it out.
AS I’M IN THE HALLWAY after practice and packing up my camera gear, I hear voices from the locker room. The guys are joking and laughing, which isn’t unusual.
“What the fuck do you mean I’m off the team for the next game?” Zyair’s voice is loud and frustrated.
I freeze and move closer to the door.
“I don’t know, man,” Leonardo says. “Coach just said you’re sitting out? And he didn’t give you a reason?”
“That’s bullshit,” Zyair snaps. “I’ve been playing fine. Better than fine, actually. Why the fuck would he bench me?”
“Did he say anything to you?” Taj asks.
“No. Nothing. He just said I’m out for the next game, and when I asked why, he told me it’s his decision and I should focus on staying ready for when I’m back in.”
“That’s fucking weird,” Cory says.
“Yeah, it is,” Zyair mutters. “I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?”
“It’s probably just a technical decision,” Gabriel says. “Coach does this sometimes. He tests guys to see how they handle being benched. It’s not personal.”
“It feels personal,” Zyair says.
“I get that. But you can’t let it derail you. If you freak out or start questioning him, it’s only going to make it worse. Just stay calm, keep working, and show him you’re ready whenever he needs you.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one getting benched for no reason.”
“I know. But trust me, this isn’t about you messing up. Coach has his reasons, and he’s not going to explain them to everyone. You just have to roll with it.”
There’s some grumbling, but Zyair doesn’t argue. I can hear the frustration in his voice, but he seems to be accepting what Gabriel is saying.
I step back from the door and lean against the wall, my mind racing.
Huh.
Gabriel convinced Coach that Zyair needed time off because of family issues, and now Zyair is benched and he has no idea why.
This isn’t a coincidence.
Gabriel must have lied to Coach. He made up a story about Zyair struggling so he’d get pulled from the game, and now he’s pretending to be the supportive captain and telling Zyair to stay calm.
But why? What does Gabriel get out of benching one of his own teammates?
I think about the recording. He sounded like he truly cared, but he doesn’t. He manipulated Coach into benching Zyair, and now he’s covering his tracks and faking to be supportive.
This is exactly the kind of shit I expect he would do. Control the situation, manipulate the people around him, and make himself look good while doing it.
I don’t know what Gabriel’s endgame is, but I’m not letting this go.
He’s hiding something, and I need to find out what.