Chapter 19
Daniel finds me in my apartment. I’ve just finished zipping my suitcase when he uses the spare key to let himself in. He practically sags in relief when he sees me. “Annie!”
He reaches for me, and that scared, stupid part of me just curls into his chest. Fortunately, my tears dried sometime during the drive home.
Now, Daniel only has a woman who is half there, numb and cold.
He leans back to look at my face, smoothing my hair soothingly.
I close my eyes for a moment, feeling a flicker of warmth.
Then, he steps back.
He begins to pace. First to the kitchen table, then back to where I stand, then back again.
“Okay, so I’ve been thinking about what we should do.
Obviously, Trenton’s confidence tells us he had someone in the tech world doctor those emails.
He seemed to think they’d pass the investigative team’s inspection.
So, we need to get someone even better to debunk them.
I have some contacts at The New York Times that we can reach out to—”
“Daniel,” I say quietly. Tiredly.
“And then we’ll need to call Jermaine and craft a statement.
You’ll want to deny all allegations as soon as possible.
Jermaine’s been calling, but he said you’ve been declining every time.
I know the NDA doesn’t help matters, but surely we can get it thrown out later if we prove Trenton was just using it to back you into a corner. ”
“Daniel.” I say it a little louder this time.
“And then, I think we should get you on The Jump. Talk to Jonathan Watson. Tell the full truth. Make a statement that scares Trenton, that shakes him up. Force the investigation to look into him, too.”
“Daniel.” His endless plans spin through my brain. “I’m leaving.”
He finally stops pacing, looks at me. “Leaving? Where? Did you already talk to a reporter?”
Do these questions show he has faith in me? That he believes I can salvage the situation?
Or do they show how little he knows me? That he thinks I could go on national TV and explain my story coherently and “scare Trenton, shake him up”?
“I can’t be here,” I explain. “The girls only have two more games until the playoffs. I’ll only be a distraction. You saw how they were all fighting back there.”
Their faces flash in my mind. Jadea’s unwavering, fierce support. Olabisi’s scathing disbelief. Taherah’s fear that it could all be true. Coach Rembert’s stress-lined face trying not to take sides.
I should never have made the league. The team. I should be playing some small-time basketball in Lithuania. I’d be lucky to do so. While I didn’t ask my father for help, he did help me. That part is true enough.
Daniel shakes his head vehemently. “You’ll just look frightened if you leave. You need to stand up to him—”
I can’t stand his calm, controlling tone anymore.
“I am frightened, Daniel! We’re similar in so many ways, but in this, we are different.
I can’t talk to people. I can’t say what I truly mean.
I can’t make myself appear confident, charming, vengeful, anything like that.
If I go on TV, I’ll just cry in front of some strangers in nice suits!
” My knuckles are white around my suitcase handle.
“I know you need control, and so you’re suggesting what you would do.
But I’m not like that.” Anger grows hot in my chest, and I loose it on the only available target.
“And neither are you, when it comes down to it! You haven’t aired your piece about mental health in sports because you’re afraid. How is what I’m doing any different?”
Daniel winces at the assessment but doggedly continues with his plan. “I get what you’re saying, and that’s why I’ve been working with Jadea. We decided that maybe if we wrote a speech beforehand, give you some time to practice it—”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I narrow my eyes. “You and Jadea?”
He has the good grace to look nervous. “Yes, we talked the rest of practice and came up with a plan.”
I want to scream without me, but I was the one who left, so I try to focus. “Didn’t Jadea find it strange that my boyfriend of 24 hours wanted to stay and help me through this shitstorm?”
He winces a little. “Maybe she just thought I was a really good guy.”
“Daniel,” I grit out.
“I told her,” he says, the words coming out in a rush. I take a step back, the betrayal stinging. “That we dated at Stanford. That we just got back together. She understood. She says we should focus on Trenton for now—”
I laugh, loud and bitter. “It seems like I’m not even needed for this plan. You two will decide what I need and write me a script. It’s all been fake, right, Daniel? I’m just the bad actress trying to fumble through her lines.”
I march past him, yanking my suitcase handle so that it unfurls. “I’m leaving.” My voice cracks. “I’ll be at a motel. Hopefully, I can step aside, and the team won’t be hurt in the crossfire. You and Jadea can draw the game plan up, but I’ll be riding the bench.”
I open my apartment door, equal parts hot and cold. Daniel’s voice is quiet behind me. “Please don’t, Annie. It won’t help, I promise.”
I turn halfway to look at him. “It helped you, didn’t it?” Cruel words. A low blow, but I don’t care. He should understand the loss of a dream. The trapped feeling of knowing your future isn’t what you thought it would be.
He should understand that I just need a break.
Daniel doesn’t look away. His eyes sear into me.
“If there were any chance, any possibility that I could compete, I would have done it. I would have begged on my knees. I would have sacrificed anything. Running is everything to me.” I’m almost drawn in by his words, leaning ever so slightly toward him.
“But my body was broken. It was the one obstacle I couldn’t clear, and so I didn’t just leave.
I went towards help. Therapy. My family. I rebuilt my life.”
His voice grows harder. “I shouldn’t have left things that way between us—that was my one mistake. But don’t think for one second that what you’re doing is anything like what I did. You’re not leaving, you’re hiding.”
The words ring in the space between us. Space that was nonexistent just last night, as we lay intertwined and laughing giddily.
I want so badly to run to Daniel, to beg him to fix my life, but I’m not like him. He and Jadea think they know me, but they don’t.
So, I slam the door between us.
19
The motel I wallow in is a very sad Motel 6 about twenty miles outside of St. Louis.
I got into my car and drove blindly, hopping on the nearest highway.
I didn’t really have a plan, despite my bitter words to Daniel.
I did want to hide. Somewhere away from the noise.
Away from people telling me what to do and the moral dilemmas and arguing teammates.
The only call I answered was from my mom. We sat in silence, both sniffling the whole time. Finally, I said, “I just need a break. It will only be for a few days, I promise.”
A lie, possibly. I had no plan of leaving or staying. Just being.
My mom was quiet for a moment. “What about your game against Seattle? Or the one Sunday against LA?” They’re both home games. I could drive back and play for our number one spot. I could prove my worth on the court.
Except, is that what I would be doing? Or would it just be hissing, booing, Olabisi pushing me on the bench, Coach Rembert wondering if she knows who I truly am?
No, I won’t be playing. Frauds and cheaters shouldn’t be allowed to play.
I don’t answer my mom, and she finally says, “Be safe, Annie. And call if you need me.” I know she thinks I’ll come to my senses.
I haven’t missed a game since my freshman year of college when I had mono.
Even then, I tried to practice that week, but I fainted halfway through the warm-ups.
It’s unthinkable that I’d miss a game willingly.
Contractually, I have no idea what it means.
I’m under investigation, so does it even matter when I’ll likely be suspended soon anyway?
It will just be more money down the drain, maybe a fine for missing the game.
I could ask Jermaine, but I’ve been avoiding his calls too.
The Motel 6 is exactly what you’d expect.
Tiny, weird, full of truckers and other people with furtive glances.
There are a dozen rooms and not even half of them are full.
I mumble to the front desk lady, a strangely perky woman named Wendy, that I’ll pay on a “day-by-day” basis.
The room I’m in is bare. The bed is old, but clean enough.
There’s an end table with chipped corners and a tiny little TV sitting on a dresser.
The shower does have some hair in the drain but is otherwise doable.
Nobody will find me here, not even the genius duo of Jadea and Daniel.
The first thing I do is take off my shoes. Throw my bag in a corner. Turn off the lights.
I toss and turn fitfully. And even when I do sleep, I don’t feel rested. Like my body knows my brain is still awake.
Hating me. Hating Daniel and Jadea for trying to run my life. Hating Trenton. Hating Jack.
I’ve never been so angry.
I stew in the dark.
*
My instant oatmeal rotates in the microwave, something they had in the vending machine a few doors down from my room. I watch it disinterestedly, like I’ve done everything today. Our game against Seattle starts in ten minutes.
And I’m not there.
My phone has been off all day, but I know what I would see if it were on.
Missed calls from Jadea, Coach Rembert, Jermaine.
Maybe my mom. That would be the group begging me not to quit.
To not give up. Jadea might even give me some bullshit speech about how badass I am if I just truly believe in myself.