Page 77 of The Comeback Pact

My hands tighten to fists. A black ball of rage blocks my view of the present.

Coach sighs. “Here’s what I know: Your father has never bothered to show up to a game, and I’ve only ever heard you say one thing about him and it was that the topic of him was off-limits, so I’m inclined to think this is all bullshit.

“I know you, Brooks. I know that if your father was worth a shit, you’d give him the shirt off your back. The whole interview was an exaggerated sob story that left me fuming…but other people are eating it up. When the news editor called to ask for my comment yesterday, I told them I didn’t have any, but I think the time for being silent has passed.” He clears his throat. “The analysts are estimating your draft status will decrease. Anyone can be a great player nowadays. Teams are looking for superstars on and off the field.”

My stomach rolls. “What do I do?”

“First things first, you may not owe the public a reply, but a few of your NIL representatives have reached out.”

I nod. “The dealership called me.”

“I think we should start there.”

I shift in my seat, wiping my sweaty palms down my pants. “Was there anything else being shown?”

Coach leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Aidan and Cade messaged me. They said a few Hamilton players showed up at Richie’s yesterday and there was some sort of incident. There’s some leaked, raw footage that I had to search for but the media isn’t picking up yet. I suspect because it makes your father look like a giant douchebag. This wasn’t Hamilton footage. I think one of our own players took it. When I find out who, I’m going to have a talk with them about it. If the media does pick it up, I think it could only help your cause.”

“Coach…” My knuckles turn white, and I shake my head immediately. “I can’t put Kenna through that. He said the most horrible things to her.”

He narrows his gaze at me. “Correct me if I’m wrong, was it not because of her parents that I had to have several personal, unpleasant meetings with the dean last year?”

“But they were right,” I object.

Coach’s lips thin. “I’m not sure I understand you, Brooks.”

I gesture with my hands. “Just look at what’s going on. Why is what’s happening even news? I’m no one. Half the country knows nothing about me, and the other half only knows my stats or that my university was involved in a rivalry prank gone wrong. Are the local news outlets covering the fact that Kenna, despite having two surgeries, has healed and overcome the incident by diving in her team’s first meet? No, because that’s uplifting news. We can’t have that,” I deadpan. “We’d rather make fake news about me, who’s seen as having everything, and create drama where there isn’t any. My father left us a long time ago, and I don’t owe him shit. He’s a hateful, angry man.”

Coach lifts his hands. “I agree with you. The media is great when they’re on your side, but they can cause everyone and everything to turn on you. I was merely saying that the other footage is proof of what you’ve just said. Your father is a hateful, angry man. The way he treated Kenna in the video was reprehensible. Everyone who sees it can’t deny it.”

“Which is probably why Hamilton hasn’t shared their own footage yet.”

“Their involvement in this is a different story. I’ve reached out to their coach, and I’ll deal with that aspect myself. We have a game to win tomorrow, and I want everyone’s head to be where it’s needed to be.”

I shrug. “I don’t know…”

His brow lifts. “You don’t know? Are you telling me you might have a hard time playing in the game tomorrow? That you won’t be able to separate the game from your life?”

Coach shakes his head. “Let me tell you something, West, this won’t be the only time you’ll have to go through this. If you’re good enough—and you are—there will be plenty of people wanting to bring you down. They don’t care who they drag into it or what they have to say—real or fake. Do you know why? Because it makes people feel better about themselves when they think someone good is just as fucked up as they are. If they can see their own life reflected back in someone who is on a pedestal, they rejoice in their downfall. It’s sick, but it is what it is. This is just your first rodeo, but it won’t be your last. If you let it impact you negatively now, I’ll be seriously worried about your future.”

I swallow. I know he’s right.

Wishing I was a person with a squeaky-clean past won’t do any good when my past made me who I am.

“Let’s just start with one thing at a time.” He hands me a printout with every single one of my NIL contacts. “You tell them whatever you want to tell them, but I suggest the raw truth. We don’t need your future tainted any more than it already is.”

With that, I punch in the first phone number, hoping like hell my voice will actually work.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

Kenna

“Don’tyou have a meet to get ready for?”

Sydney’s question breaks into my never-ending thoughts. I aim the remote toward the TV and pause it. First, I started out with the local news coverage—the original interview West’s dad did. Then, Sydney told me that ESPN picked it up, so I’ve been watching them dissect the interview for hours. Sometimes, they even say the same thing. I’ve never watched SportsCenter before in my life, but apparently, West Brooks’s dad’s story is getting a ton of hits all over the country. He’s news.

“How long have you been watching this?” she asks, coming up behind me. Leaning back, I catch her sad expression. The headline itself is a punch in the gut. “$3M in NIL Money and Won’t Share?!”

It makes him seem like a miser. “All day.”

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