Page 87 of The Comeback Pact

“About that footage.” I turn directly into the camera. “I would like to ask everyone to stop sharing it, please. If you’ve posted it to your social media, please delete it, and I would appreciate it if news outlets stop running it as well. My father doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I’m sure your girlfriend was very upset.”

My throat works. That wasn’t on her notecard either. “I won’t be answering any questions about her.”

The reporter nods. “How culpable do you find the Hamilton players in all of this?”

I really want to call them out for their shameless, unethical tactics, but I’ve already decided not to. “I prefer to answer that with my play on the field today.”

“Do you have anything else you would like to add, Mr. Brooks?”

I shake my head. “No, ma’am. I just want to say I appreciate you coming down to the Warner University football field today to get the true story. I’m not exactly happy about sharing private details of my personal life, but I won’t stand by and watch something I know to be wrong. In the future, I hope that people can see through lies instead of blowing something up that didn’t even need to be news. I want football to be my story, and how I act on the field is how I act in real life. I’m fiercely protective. I’m determined. I’m aggressive, but respectful.”

The reporter smiles. “And how do you see the game going down today?”

“I’m calling the W for Warner University.”

The reporter rattles off when her viewers can catch the game and then we both smile at the camera like puppets being told what to do.

Afterward, she takes a big breath. “Okay.” She lowers the microphone and reaches her hand out. “Thanks for the interview. It’ll run right before the game.”

I squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”

Now that that’s done, I only have one more win to focus on.

“Just curious,” the reporter starts as she lets go of my hand, “why didn’t you want to answer questions about your girlfriend?”

The word hits me like a ton of bricks. I have the sudden yearn to talk with Kenna. Now that all this should be over, I want to hash it out with her. I want to run to her and tell her everything that’s been going on in my head.

But I can’t do that. She’s better off without me.

“No comment,” I mutter, then I walk toward the locker room so I can get my head on straight.

I’ve already lost Kenna. I don’t need to lose another thing I love.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

Kenna

The house has beenquiet for an hour after Sydney left in a tornado of frantic energy. Again, she told me I didn’t need to come, but I wouldn’t do that to her. Her show is important, and just because it happens to be smack-dab in the middle of something I’d rather not watch, that’s no excuse.

Ride or die and all that.

Since I have a moment to myself, I decide to pull out my textbooks and look over any assignments that are due soon. I was caught up in a West bubble, and even though I’m fairly certain I didn’t let anything slip, at least doing this is keeping my mind off what’s happening a couple of blocks from here.

Though, it’s hard to ignore the people walking past the house blowing horns and using noisemakers. And the cars lining the streets because the parking lot couldn’t contain them all.

Everyone is enjoying this but me.

I reread the same paragraph three times before groaning and slamming the book shut.

I try my hand at watching TV, but my mind keeps wandering to how West is doing. It’s a big day for him. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t checked my phone to see if he reached out.

“This is stupid!”

A line from the TV catches my attention. I don’t even know what I have on, but there’s a nicely tailored guy on the screen. The camera cuts to a woman in sweatpants and a sweatshirt who has her chin in the air.

“You love me, and I love you. That’s all that matters.”

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