Chapter 17 #3
Trenton smiles that little smile again. “I am hopeful that by coming forward early and being accountable for my family’s mistake, I won’t be forced to turn over my ownership. Instead, we can start a new legacy.”
I almost throw up as Jonathan and Trenton shake hands. When I minimize the video, I see it’s the number one sports topic on Twitter. None of the comments are kind.
One brands itself into my brain, the words searing hot.
@NBALover: This is one of the worst scandals in modern sports history. Consider Annie Larger blacklisted from the league. She’s done.
It begins to register that everyone is talking. Shouting actually. Jadea’s voice is loudest, as usual, “It’s a fucking lie! We all know Trenton is a fucking snake!”
Olabisi sounds just as furious, stepping closer to Jadea.
She shoves her perfectly manicured finger in her face.
“He says he has proof, Jadea. What the hell am I supposed to believe? These are all just coincidences?” I’m stepping away from the group numbly, Jadea’s phone still clutched in my hand.
Daniel is hovering near me, unsure if he should break up the chaos or glue himself to my side.
Coach Rembert pushes Jadea and Olabisi apart. “This solves nothing. Let’s just hear what Annie has to say.”
Olabisi scoffs. “Annie? Annie never has shit to say.”
It’s a cruel truth and one that feels like it punches clean through me. I must make a noise of pain because Olabisi and the team turn to look at me, hunched and small on the outskirts. I see a flicker of something on Olabisi’s face, remorse maybe, or pity, but then it hardens.
Jadea keeps her eyes on me. “Tell them, Annie, tell them the truth! You didn’t even know about Jack until Misty told you.”
I feel suddenly out of breath, and I can’t feel my fingertips, and everyone is looking at me.
I know it’s not true, I know it’s a lie, but I can’t open my mouth.
I can’t explain when Olabisi is looking at me so evenly, sure I have nothing to say, when Taherah looks afraid for me, when Jadea has every expectation that I’m just like her.
Finally, I choke out, “I’m sorry. So sorry. He’s wrong, but I’m sorry.” And before anyone can question me or I start crying embarrassingly, I turn on my heel and run.
Deja vu.
I can hear Daniel for a second, about to follow, but I don’t look back. I throw out a hand, signaling him to stop. “Leave me alone. Please. I just need to process on my own.”
And he does.
I can hear everyone still arguing as I stumble to the locker room. I grab everything that’s mine in blind terror—my backpack, my ball, my jersey, my many basketball shoes, my name plate that says: Annie Larger 33; my name and number, next to our scarlet arrow symbol.
I take a step into the hallway, tears dripping down my face, and the first thing I think about is leaving. It’s the easiest thing to do. It’s what Largers do when they have a problem to face. It’s what everyone expects.
So, I’m surprised when I start walking, all my gear awkwardly bundled in my arms, to the elevator.
I pass one or two surprised security guards and other staff.
I don’t look at them; I don’t wipe my face.
I march up into the glass offices above, right up to the secretary who works the front desk. Jenna Green. “Is he here?” I demand.
I shouldn’t take it out on Jenna, but she actually blinks like she has no idea who I’m talking about. “Who?”
My words are clipped. “Trenton. Is he here?”
Understanding floods her face, then embarrassment. Does she know that Trenton’s words are a sham, or is she embarrassed to be seen with a cheater and a fake? “He just left,” she says finally. “You might catch him in the garage, ground level. He’s probably waiting by the valet stand.”
I don’t even thank her, I just start running, my nameplate and Jadea’s phone clenched in my sweaty palms. The run seems endless, hallways and stairwells, but finally I’m at the valet stand.
We sometimes use valet on game days, but certainly not for practice.
Apparently, Trenton uses it all the time.
The valet is nowhere to be seen, but Trenton is leaning casually against the stand. This floor of the garage is private, with only a few cars parked down here. It won’t be long before Trenton’s car is swinging around the corner.
“Trenton.” I don’t even recognize my voice. It’s gutted. Guttural. “How could you do that to me?”
He turns around slowly, tapping something out on his phone before finally facing me. “Do what, Annie? Tell the truth?”
There’s a twisting to everything he says, like he’s winking at me with each word. I hug my basketball gear to my chest, realizing I look ridiculous. I try to soldier on. “It’s not the truth, Trenton. It’s a lie that will ruin my life.”
Trenton takes a thoughtful step towards me, tapping his chin idly with his iPhone.
“I thought you had ruined my life, Annie. When it came out, what my father did, the affair, the love child, I figured our family had finally hit rock bottom.” A little guilt swirls at that, but I hold on to my anger.
To the truth. “But I was wrong. Apparently, my father had been reconsidering his decision to hand the reins over to me. Even though I won a championship. Even though everyone loved the decision.” He shakes his head in disgust. “He wanted back in. He wanted me to wait my turn. As if I hadn’t already been waiting for decades to have some semblance of a say.
” I’m surprised by the bitterness, the anger creasing his smooth face.
It must show on my face because he inhales and recalibrates.
“So, your little scandal provided me the perfect opportunity to push him out. For good.” He eyes me carefully, probably noticing my gear bundled haphazardly in my arms. “I also couldn’t have you splitting up my inheritance, or God forbid, trying to be a part of the family business. ”
I open my mouth to respond, saying I want no part of his ridiculous family, but he shushes me.
He’s not at all worried about any of my defenses or so-called truths.
“Annie, let me tell you how this will go. You’ll bow your head and take the punishment.
You’ll leave this league and go play in some backwater Lithuanian league where you can lick your wounds.
” Every word is a barb in my chest. “My team of extremely high-power lawyers will provide validation for the emails you sent. The WNBA’s investigation will prove that you and my father colluded so that you could be drafted early and other mismanagement to get you more playing time and attention.
You will be suspended for at least a year, maybe more.
Even if you were allowed to come back, no team would take you.
Players will hate you for cheating and taking the spot of someone who deserved it.
They’ll imagine all the misdeeds you and my father planned together.
” He finally allows that small smile to spread fully.
“And you will bow your head and. Take. It.
“If you try to say anything about the Smith family, even to prove your innocence, you will violate the NDA I had you sign. If you violate the NDA, my high-powered lawyers will sue you within an inch of your life. No matter how you look at it, Annie, you will be out of this league and thus my life, forever.” This was his plan all along.
From that fraught moment in his office, where I thought he might want to help me.
Instead, this was just a power play, and I was an unwilling pawn about to be sacrificed.
Trenton is everything I’m not. Rich. Powerful. Backed by a team of lawyers and well-respected billionaire friends. Charismatic. Social. Power hungry. Dissatisfied. Cutthroat.
What am I?
Quiet. Exhausted. Hard-working. Avoiding my problems. Keeping secrets from my best friend. Running away from my boyfriend. Fighting with my mom. Betraying my team. Tricking the world with PR schemes.
How to fight against who we are?
The tears haven’t stopped flowing. The valet turns the garage’s corner, pulling an Archer and Arrows colored Tesla up next to us. “Your car is ready for you, sir.” The young valet gets out of the driver side door, trying to hide his curiosity at our exchange.
Trenton slips him a twenty and turns to look at me one last time.
“Are we done here, Annie?” He smiles sympathetically.
As though he’s sorry he bested me, but it’s too late.
His perfect plan is already in motion. “This isn’t personal, it’s business.
At one point, I thought we could use you for sympathy and paint Dad as the villain.
But, in the end, if you stay here, so does the scandal.
My dad will keep trying to contact you. I needed to separate myself from you both, permanently. I’m sorry.”
Sorry for what? Lying to the media? Manipulating me? Caring about business more than his family?
The last breath of my anger suffuses through me. “You want to take it all? My teammates? My friends? My game?” I’m choking on my tears. “Fine. Take it all.”
And as he walks calmly away, taking the keys from the valet, I hurl all my things at him and his car.
My basketball bounces off his tire and flings back at the valet, who sidesteps it.
My jerseys only flutter in the air, catching wind and floating down like deflated parachutes.
But it’s my nameplate, hard plastic, that makes a connection.
It glances off Trenton’s shoulder and he startles a bit, looking at me with the first show of anger.
“Stay out of it, Annie. Or you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” Gritting his teeth, Trenton gets in the car and speeds away.
I immediately slide to the ground in front of the valet stand, spent. I press my hands into my face, shakily swiping away my tears.
It’s the young valet who finally, nervously, asks if he should go upstairs and get my car for me. I look up into his kind face—he can’t be much older than eighteen or twenty—and nod.
I can’t stay here another minute.