Chapter 6
Daniel sticks to his word when it comes to Coach Rembert’s rule.
He’s unobtrusive, always on the outskirts, a flash I see hovering just beyond reach.
He watches our individual workouts, frequently typing on his phone or talking to Iris.
He always has a slight smile on his face, a kindness to his expression.
He has no camera crew with him, and if I remember anything from Iris’ speech, it’s that today is only observational for them.
Maybe sniffing out a story or an angle or building their plan for the next week.
There’s been no subtle way to pull him aside and clear the air, so I’ve just ignored him instead.
When it’s time for my individual workout, I’m focusing on passing drills.
As the team’s starting point guard, it’s my job to get the play started and keep the ball moving.
Today, Coach Zak whips out the giant tire, rolling it towards me.
One of our practice players, Patrick, stands in front of me to act as a fake defender.
I have to keep passing the ball through the hole of the rolling tire while Patrick is all in my face.
It’s designed to improve my passing accuracy under pressure from my defender.
I nervously peek around just as we’re about to start the drill, but to my relief, I don’t see Daniel.
I’d like to say I’m cool enough to do this drill perfectly with him watching, but it’s more likely I would embarrass myself.
Putting his handsome face firmly out of my mind, I perform the drill.
I keep pushing Patrick back, shoving him with my shoulder and throwing the ball through the tire pushed along by Zak.
The first ball hits the side of the tire and bounces off.
Patrick, who shoots me an apologetic glance, blocks the second ball.
I grit my teeth and catch the third ball.
Zak nods at me encouragingly, and I focus past Patrick’s bulky shoulder and towards the moving target.
The next ball rockets through. And the next. And the next.
By the end of my individual workout, I’m sweating and grinning. Basketball has so much rhythm and getting in the groove made my body hum happily in response. I turn to the bench, looking for Jadea. Instead, I see my entire team huddled around Daniel and something he’s showing them on his phone.
Daniel and Jadea both look up at me at the same time. Jadea is clearly furious, her lips set in a grimace. Daniel’s expression is softer and unsure.
Surprisingly, Daniel speaks first. “Annie? I think you should come take a look at this.” How do they not hear the familiarity in his words? The easy way he says my name?
Now Taherah, Lynn, Olabisi, and Allyson are looking at me too.
Everyone is, even Coach Rembert and Iris Langley.
The heaviness of their gazes weighs me down, making the walk over to them seem slow and painful.
When I finally reach their huddle, Allyson steps aside so I can stand next to Daniel and see the video he’s playing on his phone.
His volume is turned all the way up, and I catch the ESPN analyst’s words mid-sentence.
“…information about the Jack Smith and Annie Larger controversy. Inside sources at the Archers/Arrows front office say that Jack Smith has been tracking Annie’s trajectory ever since she went to Stanford.
The source says Jack Smith paid several journalists in the Stanford area to write articles about Annie when she was in season.
The source also confirms the suspected mismanagement surrounding the draft, saying there was an explosive argument between executives over Annie being picked early in the second round by the Arrows.
Many other executives on the team disagreed with Smith’s choice, and the source says many felt Jack was able to sneak Annie in because of the change in coaches from Jim Stance to Candace Rembert. ”
“Besides the anonymous source, this story has been corroborated by the Arrows’ old GM and three of its board members. They confirm the mismanagement and admit their part in looking the other way. A lesser investigation will be opened on them as well…”
Every part of me that felt like it was singing moments ago has now gone icy cold.
My breath is tight as I listen to the analyst finish their report.
“The NBA and WNBA are launching a full investigation into Jack Smith and his front office. While there are no current legal issues surrounding the case, the NBA and WNBA would like to guarantee Mr. Smith did not break or bend any rules relating to league policy. Even if he managed to work through loopholes, the nepotism and manipulation of the draft will not go unnoticed by the world of sports. Moving on to the world of NASCAR…”
Daniel closes the video, quiet. So are the rest of my teammates, watching me carefully.
Jadea reacts first. “This is bullshit!” She paces violently, breaking up the huddle that surrounded the phone.
I watch her meltdown numbly. “Annie got coverage at Stanford because she was great! She was drafted because she was great! Who is this source they keep referring to? Has anyone even verified their accusations?”
I find my voice, trying to speak calmly.
“They said the statements were verified by some of the board and our old GM. It can’t all be lies.
” Jadea stops her pacing, looking at me with a furrowed brow.
It feels like every word that comes out of my mouth is being said by a stranger, far away from me. “Excuse me, everyone, I need a minute.”
I don’t know how I walk away so calmly when it feels like my skin has been plunged into an ice bath. “Shit.” Jadea swears. “Annie, I’m sorry. Come back!”
I walk faster, feeling the tears threaten. I don’t want to cry in front of Iris Langley and the newly reformed Daniel. They probably deal with this level of risk and reporting all the time. They won’t understand why I’m acting like my life is ripping apart.
I slam through the door to our locker room, feeling blindly for a bench to sit down on. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to force the tears away. Instead, I let out a small sob.
Do I even deserve to be out there? To stand with Jadea and Lynn?
Sometimes it feels like I do, when I’m passing that ball through the tire and my blood is on fire, but right now it feels like I’m the only player in the league who bought her way onto a team.
I might have taken a girl’s spot who had more talent than me.
A girl who needed no help from her billionaire, manipulative father.
I’m surprised when I hear a knock at the door. I expect Jadea to burst in, full of blistering swear words and apologies for me. Instead, a wry voice asks, “Are you decent?”
Daniel Chan.
“What?” I squeak, voice full of even more cracks from crying. “Of course, I am!”
He opens the door a few inches, peeking in at me.
I must look a picture. Two fiery braids trailing down my back, tears drying on my cheeks, fists clenched, and an indignant look on my face at basically being asked by my ex if I’m sitting naked in the locker room.
He slips in, hesitating by the door. “I told Jadea I would talk to you, but as soon as I got to the locker room door, I had this paralyzing fear that I was entering a space I shouldn’t. ”
I snort, rubbing some tears off my cheeks. “I guess that’s fair. Most men would probably love an excuse to push in.”
Daniel makes a brief disgusted face before coming to sit next to me.
His thigh brushes mine as he sits, and I hope he can’t see the blush through my tears and splotchy cheeks.
Neither of us says anything, but my tears slow.
I feel almost rational. I abruptly turn to face him on the bench, bringing one knee up so I can lean in.
“Daniel, what the hell are you doing here?”
The words fly from my mouth, and for once, I’m proud of myself for just saying what I’m feeling. For better or worse, I always had an easy time talking to Daniel. We understood each other.
He finally looks as guilty as I’d expected, ducking his head. “I wanted to make things right.”
A crazed laugh burst out of me. “And so, you came back into my life right when it’s going to pieces? After we haven’t spoken to each other in five years?”
Daniel looks at me intensely. There’s a flash of us a few weeks before the accident, the first day after we said I love you.
Daniel kept looking at me, and when I would ask what he was doing, he’d just laugh and say he loved me again.
It was such a fizzy, deliriously happy feeling to be with him those months.
All those memories feel strangely tainted now, like I’m seeing them through warped glass.
Daniel clasps and unclasps his hands. I wonder if he’s as nervous as I am.
“Annie, I ruined our relationship. I know that, and I don’t expect your forgiveness.
But…Jadea’s right. You desperately need some good press, and my show could do that for you.
If there is some small way I can help, let me do it. I owe you.”
I’m silent for a moment. It’s strange, talking to Daniel again.
Our relationship is broken into stages in my brain.
Falling in love. Being in love. Sitting in the hospital and reading at his bedside.
Me excitedly driving to the hospital to visit him but finding his bed empty.
I had a lot of time to wonder endlessly what I did wrong.
And then even more time to be angry at how he treated me, no matter what he felt about our relationship.
However, I never really fought with Daniel.
All our actual, in-person interactions were before his disappearance and were good.
He sounds like that now. Still good. Smart. Kind. Extremely driven.
It’s making my head spin.