My throat tightens at the memory.
“I can’t explain it—it was a gift. Maybe the only gift I’d ever been given. I loved basketball. I loved the way it made sense. I loved that it was mine.”
I rub my palms against my knees, grounding myself.
“And… I got really good. Good enough that people noticed. Eventually, the most prestigious private school in Los Angeles—the one where all the celebrity kids went, including Anna—offered me a full scholarship. They wanted me to play ball for them.”
A humorless laugh slips out. “And so I did. And it was… awful.”
Miles’s jaw works, but he stays silent, letting me speak.
“I didn’t belong there. I didn’t have the clothes. I didn’t have the money. I didn’t have anything in common with any of the kids. I stood out like a fish out of water. And the bullying started immediately. It was constant, and cruel, and I had never experienced anything like it. You’d think growing up where I did would make you tough, but nobody there cared what shoes I wore or how old my backpack was. We were all just… surviving.”
I give Miles a small, sheepish smile. “But at that school? I was fresh meat, and rich kids are mean.”
I take a breath.
“Thankfully, almost right away, Anna noticed me and befriended me. She brought me to her mansion after school one day and gave me a makeover. She let me take so many clothes from her closet that I felt like I was stealing,” I say with a slight shrug. “Most of them got stolen when I went back home that night.”
A flicker of pain crosses Miles’s face, but he stays quiet.
“When Anna realized where I lived, she started inviting me to stay over. And eventually… I never really went home. I visited sometimes, but my mom was… she was gone long before she actually died. Drugs had her. And she didn’t want help.”
My voice cracks. “She passed away when I was thirteen. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to get sent to foster care. I was already living with Anna’s family, so I just stayed.”
Miles reaches out, but I shake my head gently—needing to get this part out before I fall apart.
“I kept playing basketball. Started varsity in my freshman year. And from the beginning, my coach, Coach Clearwater, gave me a lot of attention.”
My stomach twists.
“I used to think it was because I was good. Maybe part of it was. But now? Looking back?” I swallow. “I know it was more than that.”
The air leaves my lungs in a shaky breath. “He made me feel special and seen. I felt loved, in a way I’d never been loved before. At the time… I believed him. I believed every word he said.”
My eyes lift to Miles’s. “It didn’t take long for me to fall for him, and I did. Hard. We started dating when I was fifteen.”
“Of course, we had to keep it secret,” I say quietly. “I didn’t even tell Anna. But I thought it was the real thing. I thought we were in love. I thought he was my forever.” A hollow laugh slips from my chest. “And the age thing? Back then, it didn’t even bother me because he was my person. Or at least… I thought he was.”
My throat tightens as the memories flood in. “But when we were found out—when the story broke—he cut me off completely. Just vanished. And I was alone. Completely alone.” My voice wavers. “He got off on some technicality, didn’t serve a day, didn’t get a single mark on his record. Nothing.”
I shake my head, disgust tightening my stomach. “Meanwhile, I got ripped apart. Brutally bullied. Hounded by the press. I kept saying we were in love because I thought that’s what he wanted—what he was saying, too. But he wasn’t. He wastelling everyone else I was crazy. That I was some obsessed high school girl who wouldn’t leave him alone.”
The betrayal still hits like a fist to the ribs.
“I lost everything. My scholarship. My spot on the team. Basketball. My future. All of it.”
My voice is barely audible now. “And honestly… I probably would’ve lost my life if Anna hadn’t saved me.”
I scrub at my eyes, but the tears just keep coming. “She protected me. She enrolled me in online classes. She gave me a safe place to stay and a reason to get up every morning. She gave me friendship and love and purpose when I had none. She got me through the worst years of my life. That’s why I owe everything to her.”
My breath trembles. “And now… because of Tracey… this story is everywhere again.”
I gesture helplessly toward the phone. “It’s even worse this time. Social media is a monster now. It’s louder. Meaner. More sensationalized than ever.”
The panic rises inside me like a tide I can’t stop.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper. “I don’t know how to escape it. I don’t know how to protect you.”
