Page 50 of Full Court Love
If we win this weekend, we will have gone undefeated in conference play–the first team in our school’s history to do so. The men’s team needs a win to secure the #2 seed in the tournament. Needless to say, the pressure is on.
I push open the door to our locker room and Jacey is there, along with two of the juniors, Taya and Malika. They aregathered around Taya’s phone, looking excited. Malika rushes over to me and gives me a hug.
“Congrats, girl! This is going to make you huge!”
I open my mouth to reply but pause because I have no clue what she’s referring to. “Uhh, thank you? What did I do?”
It sounds arrogant, but sometimes I win awards I don’t know about, so I find out from other people. I’m assuming this is one of those times. Taya chimes in.
“The Pierson Automotive content just dropped. It’s going viral–like, already approaching a million views on some of the Instagram reels.” She hands me her phone. “Haven’t you seen it? You and Jordan look so freaking adorable together.”
My eyes are struggling to focus. My heart is racing, and the pit in my stomach is about two million pounds of pure cement. I can’t even absorb the video she’s trying to show me.
My brain can only focus on one single thought: I need to find Jordan.
Just as I spin around to walk back out of the locker room, a massive group of my teammates comes in, with Sasha in the middle. They’re all watching something on her phone while she wears a satisfied grin.
“Oh, my gosh, Lucy. Did you see the content? Wow, our marketing crew really killed it. How happy are you? You and Jordan are famous!”
Smirking, she raises her eyebrows, waiting for my reply.
This conniver has me, and she knows it. I can’t act upset because I’d have to reveal all the vulnerable details of Jordan's home life. I can’t make an accusation about the deal because I don’t even know for sure that it was in writing. Basically, I can’t do anything. Or say anything.
But I’m also so livid that I don’t trust myself to speak.
I push past her into the big hallway, tears blurring my vision, heading toward the men’s locker room.
Tyler is just walking out, dressed in his practice jersey and pushing a rack of balls.
“Where’s Jordan?” I don’t have time for a greeting.
He sees the look on my face and becomes obviously concerned. “Lucy, is everything okay? Did something happen?”
I take a deep breath and rub my temples. “Yes. Sorry I came in hot—I just really need to talk to Jordan. Do you know where he is?”
He scratches his chin. “Umm, I think he mentioned something about going to see Coach Daniels before practice.”
I turn on my heel and beeline for the wing of the arena that houses the coaches’ offices. As I turn the final corner, I almost collide with a giant mass moving slowly in the other direction.
It’s Jordan. Head turned down, shoulders slumped, looking pale.
I don’t say anything. I just wrap my arms around his waist, and he nestles his head into the crook of my neck. We just stand there–I don’t even know how many minutes pass. I just know we stand there until we’re breathing in sync, slowly and deeply.
Finally, he raises his head. “Maybe I should be a psychic. I predicted this whole thing. Or I should go buy a lottery ticket or something.”
He’s trying to make light of it and even attempts a smile, but it doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes.
I hold both his hands in mine, trying to will him to be okay. “What did Coach Daniels say?”
He shakes his head. “I mean, he said he talked to Mr. Pierson about what the content would be used for, but it was more of a handshake agreement. He passed along the message to his marketing and social media teams, and even told them the nature of why. But…”
I’m seeing red. “So, Sasha got all the information aboutwhat it would take to hurt you? And then went ahead and did it?”
He shrugs in defeat. “Sounds like it. We can’t really do anything now. It’s out there. We aren’t going to piss off the Piersons by making them take down their most successful campaign ever. Now the fallout is on me.”
I squeeze his hands harder, but I can feel him starting to shut down. He’s trying to distance himself from me already. Good luck doing that without a fight. “No, it’s on us. You aren’t in this alone. I’m in it with you. Please let me be.”
The smile he gives me is simultaneously broken and sweet and defeated.