Page 48 of A Shot at Love
Jonathan mulls this over. “These are extremely serious allegations. If this is true, it would likely result in Annie’s suspension from the WNBA, maybe worse. You’ve essentially just ruined her career, and I have to point this out; you’re her brother. Why did you come forward?”
It’s a great question, and Trenton’s ready for it. “Jonathan, I didn’t want to. I love my father, and I was just getting to know Annie. But this is unacceptable. I want the WNBA to thrive, and they’re creating a toxic environment. We need both of them gone.” He doesn’t say the words with malice or anger. Rather, he sounds like an avenging angel. Like he truly believes I’m a cancer to my team. “Hopefully, in the next week or two, the WNBA will have the information they need to make a decision on their investigation. I’m not trying to ruin Annie’s life, but she did something wrong. We can’t have her on the Arrows, and I’m sure the league will agree.”
I can’t quite tell what Jonathan is thinking when he asks, “And you’ll take over for your father if he is suspended or forced out of ownership?”
Trenton smiles that little smile again. “I am hopeful that by coming forward early and being accountable for my family’s mistake, I won’t be forced to turn over my ownership. Instead, we can start a new legacy.”
I almost throw up as Jonathan and Trenton shake hands. When I minimize the video, I see it’s the number one sports topic on Twitter. None of the comments are kind.
One brands itself into my brain, the words searing hot.
@NBALover: This is one of the worst scandals in modern sports history. Consider Annie Larger blacklisted from the league. She’s done.
It begins to register that everyone is talking. Shouting actually. Jadea’s voice is loudest, as usual, “It’s a fucking lie! We all know Trenton is a fucking snake!”
Olabisi sounds just as furious, stepping closer to Jadea. She shoves her perfectly manicured finger in her face. “He says he has proof, Jadea. What the hell am I supposed to believe? These are all justcoincidences?”I’m stepping away from the group numbly, Jadea’s phone still clutched in my hand. Daniel is hovering near me, unsure if he should break up the chaos or glue himself to my side.
Coach Rembert pushes Jadea and Olabisi apart. “This solves nothing. Let’s just hear what Annie has to say.”
Olabisi scoffs. “Annie? Annie never has shit to say.”
It’s a cruel truth and one that feels like it punches clean through me. I must make a noise of pain because Olabisi and the team turn to look at me, hunched and small on the outskirts. I see a flicker of something on Olabisi’s face, remorse maybe, or pity, but then it hardens.
Jadea keeps her eyes on me. “Tell them, Annie, tell them the truth! You didn’t even know about Jack until Misty told you.”
I feel suddenly out of breath, and I can’t feel my fingertips, and everyone is looking at me. I know it’s not true, I know it’s a lie, but I can’t open my mouth. I can’t explain when Olabisi is looking at me so evenly, sure I have nothing to say, when Taherah looks afraid for me, when Jadea has every expectation that I’m just like her.
Finally, I choke out, “I’m sorry. So sorry. He’s wrong, but I’m sorry.” And before anyone can question me or I start crying embarrassingly, I turn on my heel and run.
Deja vu.
I can hear Daniel for a second, about to follow, but I don’t look back. I throw out a hand, signaling him to stop. “Leave me alone. Please. I just need to process on my own.”
And he does.
I can hear everyone still arguing as I stumble to the locker room. I grab everything that’s mine in blind terror—my backpack, my ball, my jersey, my many basketball shoes, my name plate that says: Annie Larger 33; my name and number, next to our scarlet arrow symbol.
I take a step into the hallway, tears dripping down my face, and the first thing I think about is leaving. It’s the easiest thing to do. It’s what Largers do when they have a problem to face. It’s what everyone expects.
So, I’m surprised when I start walking, all my gear awkwardly bundled in my arms, to the elevator. I pass one or two surprised security guards and other staff. I don’t look at them; I don’t wipe my face. I march up into the glass offices above, right up to the secretary who works the front desk. Jenna Green. “Is he here?” I demand.
I shouldn’t take it out on Jenna, but she actually blinks like she has no idea who I’m talking about. “Who?”
My words are clipped. “Trenton. Is he here?”
Understanding floods her face, then embarrassment. Does she know that Trenton’s words are a sham, or is she embarrassed to be seen with a cheater and a fake? “He just left,” she says finally. “You might catch him in the garage, ground level. He’s probably waiting by the valet stand.”
I don’t even thank her, I just start running, my nameplate and Jadea’s phone clenched in my sweaty palms. The run seems endless, hallways and stairwells, but finally I’m at the valet stand. We sometimes use valet on game days, but certainly not for practice. Apparently, Trenton uses it all the time.
The valet is nowhere to be seen, but Trenton is leaning casually against the stand. This floor of the garage is private, with only a few cars parked down here.It won’t be long before Trenton’s car is swinging around the corner.
“Trenton.” I don’t even recognize my voice. It’s gutted. Guttural. “How could you do that to me?”
He turns around slowly, tapping something out on his phone before finally facing me. “Do what, Annie? Tell the truth?”
There’s a twisting to everything he says, like he’s winking at me with each word. I hug my basketball gear to my chest, realizing I look ridiculous. I try to soldier on. “It’s not the truth, Trenton. It’s a lie that willruin my life.”
Trenton takes a thoughtful step towards me, tapping his chin idly with his iPhone. “I thought you had ruinedmy life, Annie. When it came out, what my father did, the affair, the love child, I figured our family had finally hit rock bottom.” A little guilt swirls at that, but I hold on to my anger. To the truth. “But I was wrong. Apparently, my father had been reconsidering his decision to hand the reins over to me. Even though I won a championship. Even though everyone loved the decision.” He shakes his head in disgust. “He wanted back in. He wanted me towait my turn. As if I hadn’t already been waiting for decades to have some semblance of a say.” I’m surprised by the bitterness, the anger creasing his smooth face. It must show on my face because he inhales and recalibrates. “So, your little scandal provided me the perfect opportunity to push him out. For good.” He eyes me carefully, probably noticing my gear bundled haphazardly in my arms. “I also couldn’t have yousplitting up my inheritance, or God forbid, trying to be a part of the family business.”
