Page 3 of A Shot at Love
I snort. Jadea looks aghast. “He’s not denying it either?” She gets up, nervous energy oozing out of her. I watch her custom rainbow pride Jordans pace across my living room. “I mean, this isn’t bad for Annie, right? Jack and her mom had an affair, which sucks, but it’s not that unusual. Especially for a billionaire, right?” Jadea cuts straight to the point.
She looks at Jermaine. He sighs again, and my heart sinks. “If he were justanybillionaire, sure. Annie might deal with some light heckling or added press, but it would fade quickly. However, Jack Smithownsthe St. Louis Arrows. It seems damning that Annie plays for his team.”
I press my trembling hands in between my knees, trying to hold them still. “I saw the stuff on social media. I know what you mean.”
Jadea looks between the two of us. “What stuff?” I can already feel her growing indignation on my behalf. It shows just how worried she’s been about me that she hasn’t been on her socials.
I remember scrolling through Twitter (my brain still actively resists calling it X) last night, seeing the reactions to the situation.
“Annie Larger’s daddy bought her spot in the league, it’s obvious.”
“The WNBA claims to be progressive and ready to rise above men’s sports and yet they attract a billionaire scandal. Who’s talking now, WNBA?”
“Anyone remember how surprised they were that Annie got drafted at all? Her stock was so low people were shocked when she was taken early in the second round.”
“How much of Annie Larger’s success has to do with her daddy pulling strings behind the scenes?”
“Crying real tears because she’s upset or crocodile tears because she wants to look sympathetic?”
“Annie Larger is just another example of #billionairenepotism.”
When Jadea hears Jermaine rattle off a few, she grows furious. “This is bullshit. Annie fought harder than anyone to get into this league. The Arrows saw her for who she really was, and now she’s second in the league in assists and fifth in steals. She is the starting point guard onmyteam. No one can doubt her talent!”
I reach out and squeeze Jadea’s hand. I appreciate her support, but every woman athlete knows how difficult it is to get respect in the world of sports. I essentially lost all of mine in one fell swoop.
I focus on Jermaine’s stoicism. “What’s the plan? Lay low?”
Jadea makes a sound of protest, but Jermaine nods. “Unfortunately, Jack’s statement is the best avenue to take. We deny any mismanagement regarding the team and reframe this as a personal, family issue. We try to make it no one’s business. Refocus on basketball.”
Jadea opens her mouth to argue, but I squeeze her hand again, and she goes quiet. “I think that makes sense. I’ve never been good at articulating myself and that video of me crying isnothelping my case. I’ll just keep my head down and play. That’s it.”
Jermaine nods sharply. “I’ll post something to that effect on your socials.” He stands up to leave, and I surprise him with a hug.
“Thanks, Jermaine.”
He holds my gaze, resolute. “We’ll figure this out, Annie. I won’t let them tear away all your hard work.”
Once he’s gone, I sag against the couch, closing my eyes. Jadea comes to sit with me. Her voice is softer now,her anger over the situation temporarily shoved down. “How are you, really?”
I don’t open my eyes, trying to breathe evenly and not let any more tears fall. “You know how we were raised, Jadea. We didn’t need our dads because we had the best moms in the world. They’re best friends. So are we. I might have had some questions about my dad during my teens, but I understood my mom not wanting to indulge my curiosity. How would knowing who he was soften the blow that he never gave us the time of day? It would only hurt more.”
My face crumples. “And itdoeshurt. It hurts so much. Not only does my biological father have the power to destroy everything I care about, but my mom never clued me in to that very possibility. How could she keep this a secret from me? And how could he ignore me after being in such close quarters for years? None of it makes any sense.”
Jadea loops her arms around me, leaning our heads together. I sniffle, feeling a little relief that she’s here and she’s on my side.
“Thanks for being here,” I finally say, voice wobbling.
She squeezes me gently. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
We sit in silence for a while longer, clinging to each other.
*
I’m not surprised when I hear the key turning in the lock. Jadea left an hour ago, promising that she’d be by later with my favorite Thai take-out and more tissues.
I’m sitting on the couch scrolling mindlessly on my phone when my mom walks in. She looks almost as rough as I do. Her scorching red hair, a shade brighter than mine, is pulled into a sagging topknot, and she’s wearing a very old pair of jeans with a hoodie. Not her typical fashion-forward, colorful style. We both look like faded photographs of ourselves.
I don’t have an immediate reaction as she comes into the living room. There are so many ways I could go. Anger that she kept Jack a secret and let me be ambushed. Sadness that my life has been upended, and she hasn’t forced herself into the mess until now. Relief that my mom is here, and she won’t leave until this is fixed.Everything is so jumbled; I can’t pluck out one emotion.
