Page 13 of Who's Saving You
“Too bad I can’t find a highlight reel of humility.” He raises a brow, and I clear my throat. “But you can bury a game if it doesn’t serve the Saint Nik brand?”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “That what this is? You still digging for a scandal?”
“I’m not digging,” I say, closing the laptop. “I’m researching.”
“Feels a lot like digging. And here I thought we were friends. You seemed to enjoy watching me practice yesterday. Figured you’d ride that high for a few more hours at least.”
I stand, crowding him, but he doesn't step back.
“You’re not nervous that I’ll find something,” I say. “You’re nervous I already have.”
His jaw tightens.
Bingo.
“I’m here to tell a story, Nik. The world deserves to know the real Nik Papas, not the Saint they’ve been sold. You can either help me make it as accurate as possible without all the practiced quotes or keep playing this golden boy act and hope I don’t find what you’re hiding.”
The air dances between us as he steps closer, just enough that I can feel the heat off his skin. He’s not touching, and his closeness isn’t threatening; it’s just overwhelming. I inhale, hating that he smells so good.
“Sometimes it's best if the night and day don’t ever meet,” he says, his voice low.
His words land, and it’s like he’s trying to get me to quit this before we even start. But I don’t flinch, even though my heart is racing at his admission. I meet his gaze and say, “I’ll let you know who it’s best for when I write the article.”
He stares at me. One second, two. Then he turns and walks away without another word.
I watch him, the way his shoulders are tight and bunched around his neck, his sharp movements to get away fast, and I only exhale once he’s gone.
I sit back down, and think, ‘Guess today’s interview is out the window’.
But if I wasn’t digging before?
I am now.
~~
An hour later, I sip lukewarm coffee, sucking on a Cherry Push-Pop and scroll through digital game logs again, frustration crawling up the back of my neck. The more I look at Nik’s sophomore year, the more convinced I am that something happened. I just don’t know what yet. There’s no reason for everything just to disappear.
The stats don’t scream scandal, and everyone misses a game or two. But the context? That’s the real story.
That season, Zeiders University in Arkansas was supposed to make the Southern Regional Bowl. Everyone expected it. It was going to be a huge boost financially and publicly for the college, and it was all thanks to the Trickie Nickies. The university knew what they were doing when it drafted them together. They were selling seats to every game like crazy. Local newspapers and radio shows boasted about having the best trio to ever come through Arkansas. Add in the fact that NFL scouts had Zeiders University on their watchlist? It was a huge incentive for the college. All three Nicks were on top of that list and talked about constantly. It was all coming together for them.
But the team missed its chance to go to the Bowl by a single game,thisrivalry game. The kicker? Nik was benched for most of the second half during this game. The official reason? “Stomach virus.”
Yeah, right.
Because that’s exactly how coaches talk when their star wide receiver doesn’t play to his potential, or how playersdetermined to go to the next level give in to a little queasiness.
I don’t think so.
After reading that Soba, the star QB, was sacked when Nik let a man through the hole, and the fact that he dropped a perfectly placed pass to miss going into the lead at halftime, I submit a Freedom of Information request for any documents available, then grab my phone and call Zeiders University Athletic Department. Post-game statements and team releases from that season are all public info, but you have to make a formal request. I have to assume that, due to the Trickie Nickies all being drafted, the University has been asked for this information a thousand times. But when I ask about that specific rivalry game, the woman on the line hesitates.
“There was a press lock on post-game interviews that week,” she says.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning no one was allowed to speak to the players.”
That’s not normal.
