Page 126 of Every Move You Make

Twenty eight missed calls. Seventy one text messages. Thousands of notifications. Before I can even unlock it, a call from Dell comes in, and my knees buckle before hitting the floor.

“Dell,” I exhale, my voice too high, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Baby!” he shouts on an exhale. “Did you see what’s happening?”

“Yes. What… How?”

“Zay has been called into the Valor offices, and he’s on his way there right now.”

“Oh god,” I huff.

“Get up,” Mom’s hisses from behind me, but she gets in front of me. “Who are you talking to? You need to keep quiet about this, Birdie. Say nothing until we talk to your team’s PR.”

“Is that your mom?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“She’s right, baby. Say nothing until a plan has been put in place.”

Tears finally form and I choke on them. “I’m scared.”

“How could you do this to us?” Mom asks, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such disgust on her face—not about me.

“But Mom, it’s Isaiah,” I plead, as if she remembers my good college friend who played for another school. I guess it’s my fault she’s looking at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about—it’s not like I told her much about him. We’ve never really had that kind of relationship where I gushed about boys. My parents’ focus was always on my athletic ability.

My dad’s voice circles through my head.

What happened at practice?

There’s a training camp in Colorado you should attend.

Your stiff arm is getting better.

Did you see France’s flanker make that breakaway? That’s how quick you need to be!

You need to make our mistake worth it.

“I don’t care who he is,” she says, her jaw sotight I can hear her teeth grind. “He’sjust a man. He’s not fit to be your coach, and if the Valor have any ethics, whatsoever, they’ll fire him immediately.”

“But Mom—”

“No. You are not to speak to him.”

“You cannot tell me who I can love, Mom. I’m a grown woman.”

“Love?” she asks, her eyes wide as saucers. An unnerving stillness settles over her. “This isn’t love, Birdie. This was just a little fling that will end the way all your relationships have ended. Quickly. Your focus is rugby. Your focus is your brand.”

“I’m gonna kill your mom,” Dell mutters in my ear, followed by the chime of a call on the other line—a call from the Director of Human Resources for the team.

Fuck.

“I have to go,” I say to Dell, careful not to say his name in front of Mom. “HR is calling.”

“I love you, darling. Call me as soon as you can.”

“I will,” I say with an exhale, hoping he knows why I can’t say it back.

I switch over the call, and somehow manage to stand up. The door to the dressing room is closed, so I switch to speakerphone. “Hello?”

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