Spiked

The other anchors nodded. “Some actually say the pressure came from an outside source— we’ve got a clip that up and coming quarterback, Adams, posted to his social media accounts. It’s no secret there’s an intense rivalry between Adams and Everett, and it’ll be interesting to hear what the coaches have to say about this.”

The screen flipped to a clip filmed on a phone, clearly shot in the Manhattan. Music was pumping, there was a shuffle of bodies and eyes eerily lit by the phone’s glowing screen before it focused on Adams’ face.

“Hey hey, Rams,” Adams said. “In here, celebrating our win, celebrating the future. You guys want a leader, someone who’ll be there for the team, not someone who’s gonna peace out on you when his arm gets a little sore. That’s why I’m here, yeah? I’ve got the arm, I’ve got the focus, I’ve got the power, and I’m here, baby.”

Piper suddenly appeared beside Adams. She was sweaty and leaning heavily on him; I knew she was likely drunk, but Piper held herself together well enough to pass for sober. Adams wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his biceps as large as Piper’s head, and the girl’s eyes went serious.

“Horton, trust me— Jacob Everett’s girl toy is my roommate. He’s way too distracted by her to play to win right now. She hates football and has been trying to convince him to quit. This guy here is where it’s at,” she said, pointing enthusiastically to Adams. She opened her mouth, but the clip went back to the sports anchors, who looked both horrified and curious.

“And then she goes on to discuss some things we have to censor here on ESPN, but folks, let’s just say I hope her mama gives her a call tonight,” one of the anchors laughed. “Anyhow, I’m curious to see what the coaches say about this on two fronts: One, about one teammate trash-talking the other like that in a public way. Two, if they have anything to say about Jacob Everett and this girl. Was he distracted, not doing the proper work to get himself back in shape?”

Another anchor nodded. “If Jacob tried to carve out some time for a relationship rather than working on healing…makes you wonder if maybe that’s why he’s re-injured his arm.”

“And yes, that’s the thing I’m curious about here. If there’s truth to this girlfriend thing, does that have anything to do with his playing and his re-injury? Doesn’t sound like she’s very supportive of the game, so maybe she convinced him to skip a PT session or two, that sort of thing—“

I turned the television off.

22

It all happened relatively quickly. News spread of ESPN’s report, of Adams’ video, of Piper’s claim. Piper had no problem outing our exact address, which meant a handful of reporters from the local and school papers parked themselves outside, waiting to pelt me with questions. “Do you really hate football?” “Did you ask him to skip PT?” “Do you want him to give up the sport entirely?”. It was enough to drive me back into the house for the entirely of the day Sunday; come Monday morning, I ducked my head low and ran to class as quickly as I could, which only resulted in a handful of unflattering, twisted-face photos of me on social media.

“I just told the truth,” Piper said, chin lifted, on Monday afternoon, when I saw her again for the first time back at our suite. “I didn’t know so many people were going to see it, but it’s not like I said anything false.”

“We’re supposed to be friends,” I snapped back, throwing my hands to my sides. Piper hadn’t come home at all on Sunday, which meant my anger had a chance to morph in to general dismay…but Piper was still pretty lucky that I didn’t know how to throw a punch.

“You know we’re not friends,” Piper said, rolling her eyes as she poured herself some wine from a box in the fridge. “We never got along. And I’m just being honest. It’s just who I am—“

“That’s an excuse you use to act like a bitch,” I snapped back.

Her eyes lit up. “If you’re this mad about it, maybe it’s because you feel guilty,” Piper said, shrugging. It was clear she was loving this— that it was the final, ultimate revenge on me for snatching Jacob out of her hands months ago. It was also clear that Kiersten found the entire confrontation entertaining, like she was watching a soap opera scene rather than real life.

“Guilty for what?” I asked, hating the fact that I even cared a little bit what she had to say about anything.

“You had to chance to just hook up with him and let it go. You’re the one that tricked him into an actual relationship. I’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s hurt again and that Adams is the new star, but I’m saying that there were no problems before you showed up here and started meddling with him.”