Page 54 of The Change Up
I hate the CTU Gossip Gazette. Their entire feed is full of rumors and bullshit that only fuels drama around campus.
“This is bad.”
“You think?” Ignoring his smart-ass comment, I scroll through the—does that say seventy-five?—text messages. I don’t have that many close friends. It looks like anyone who had my number decided to blow me up. Typing Chloe’s name in the search bar at the top of the messaging app, I don’t see anything recent from her. I have half a dozen texts from Leah, but it’s the all-caps, ‘WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?’ from Brynn that has me opening up her messages thread.
There’s only one recent message so I quickly type out a reply.
Me: I wasn’t thinking. How is she?
Brynn’s response is immediate like she’s been sitting around waiting for my response.
Brynn: I have no idea. I can’t find her or get a hold of her.
Me: What do you mean?
Brynn: I mean she’s turned her phone off, and I can’t reach her.
“Shit!” I loudly groaned, jumping to my feet and bending down where I tossed my clothes haphazardly before my nap. I can’t sleep in pants or a shirt, no matter if it’s for the night or a nap, I need to be down to my boxers.
“Have you heard from Chloe?” I direct my question at Ty as I toss on a baseball cap while grabbing my phone, wallet, and keys. Brushing past him, he’s hot on my heels as I head down the stairs.
“No, her phone’s off. Where are you going?”
“I have no idea. I’m going to walk campus until I fucking find her.” I caused this. I made the move in the middle of campus without thinking of the repercussions.
Even though we aren’t professional athletes, we are under a lot of scrutiny as if we were. Fans want to meet us and aren’t afraid of how they come off. The media is always watching, waiting for us to screw up.
“You didn’t cause this.” Ty says from behind me as if he’s reading my mind. “That gossip site is bullshit.”
“It may be, but there’s nothing we can do about it.” Opening the front door, I go to step out before calling over my shoulder. “Let me know if you hear from her.”
Taking off in a brisk walk, I head down the sidewalk toward campus. The path isn’t too crowded, but I do catch a few eyes pop in my direction.
My phone chimes from my pocket, and I pull it out, fumbling it in the process. I save it from tumbling to the hard pavement and swipe it open.
Brynn: She just walked in the door.
Thank god. But now I’m in the opposite direction of her townhouse. Closing out of Brynn’s message, I find Ty’s name and type out a quick message asking him to pick me up at the location I just sent him.
Popping my head up, I look around for a place I can wait. A large shade tree sits at the end of a driveway. Walking toward it, I lean my back against the trunk hoping to avoid being seen. While I wait, I scroll through the notifications on various social media platforms.
The comments about Chloe are horrible. I will never understand how people can say such cruel things about others who they’ve never even met. I love technology, and I love social media. It allows me to stay in touch with my sister and my friends from high school and travel baseball. But everyone hides behind their screens and feels they have a right to express their opinion.
Whether it’s bullying someone, making someone feel invalid for having a differing opinion, or a community of people objectifying professional athletes as if they don’t have their own lives. Even if I wasn’t with Chloe, reading these hatefulcomments about her from other girls on campus while they proposition me would never have me choosing them.
My dad’s name flashes across the screen as I read the millionth comment about how Chloe Mariano isn’t good enough to breathe the same air as me. Deciding to rip the band-aid off, I answer the phone.
“Hello.”
“Ah, you do know how to answer your phone.” He says from the other end of the phone. I can hear a sports broadcast blaring in the background, which means Dad is sitting in his leather armchair in his office as he enjoys a bourbon. It’s his evening habit. I don’t know how my mom stays with such a worthless being.
He’s cruel with his words as he constantly spews hatred. Never has he been the type of dad to encourage me. Instead, he finds faults in everything. If I got an A- on a paper, he’d tell me I wasn’t smart enough. If I didn’t make varsity, he’d tell me I wasn’t talented enough. It’s been a constant cycle for as long as I can remember.
I thought by moving away, I’d escape him. But technology allows him to stay in constant contact with me whether it be through calls or text messages. He’s even resorted to sending me articles from critics whose job is to critique my game.
“Thisreallyisn’t a great time for your bullshit.”
“Don’t give me that tone, boy. You might be the king of Texas, but I’ll still show you who’s boss.” I roll my eyes at his threats which are laced with slurred words.
