“I—Well, yes, I guess. But it’s not really about the attention. It’s… what they say. How I feel when they say it. I don’t get that offline.”
“Affirmation,” Ren says.
I sigh. “I don’t know.” My frustration comes out with a groan. “I don’t know how to say it. I’m just not a disappointment to everyone who follows me. Theylikeme. I’m doing somethingrightin their eyes.”
Ren’s quiet for a minute before he gently says, “You know that it’s notyouthey like, right? They don’t know you.”
My shoulders sag. “I know,” I whisper. “But I can pretend they do.”
He’s frowning again. I can see it without looking.
“You do a lot right, Felton,” he tells me.
I shake my head. There’s a lot of people who would disagree with that. My father the loudest of all.
“There are also people who like you who actually know you.”
“Yeah?” I ask, because it doesn’t feel that way.
“You’re a fantastic goalie, Fel. One of the top in the entire league. I’m not saying that to be nice. Your stats prove that.”
I’ve seen the stats and those who say so. I can’t argue with that, right? They’re statistics. That means they’re right. Math doesn’t lie.
But it doesn’t feel like enough. It’s never enough. My dad will be the first to say so.
“You have really good friends too,” Ren continues. “Willits and Dasan are very worried about you. And you have all your friends you go on summer cruises with. Right? Those guys know who you are,you—Felton Badcock. They’re not giving you compliments for something superficial or sexual content. They like you for you.”
They do. Probably. Maybe? I sigh, but the world feels too heavy.
“You deleted all the accounts.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Coach told me to. So I did.”
“Good. That was a big risk you took.”
“My face is always covered,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, and I glance at him because he sounds amused. “But I’m still a little flabbergasted that they’re completely confident it’s you simply based on a tattoo. I’m not sure that would hold up in a court of law.”
“If they searched my house and electronics, it would hold up,” I admit.
“That’s neither here nor there. They can’t legally do that to you. You’re not breaking the law, assuming no one you have sex with is underage.” I shake my head adamantly. “Which means they truly have no ground to stand on except that which you’ve given them.”
“I didn’t say it was me. I didn’t say anything. Coach did. He insisted they can’t prove it’s me based on a tattoo because thousands of people have stars tattooed on them.”
Ren grins. “Good for Coach.”
“But when the guys left, he told me to delete the accounts. He knows it’s me.”
He sighs. “I think we all half knew it was you when we saw the tattoo. But we share a locker room with you. Tattoos are cool. I have a star on my back, and I tend to notice when others have stars too. I always wonder what inspired them to choose a star out of the millions of things they could have tattooed on them.”
“Because stars are free and beautiful,” I say. “No one looks at a star and thinks how unremarkable they are. How ordinary. How they could be living their lives better. Make better decisions and follow better paths. Even the dimmest, smallest star is extraordinary.”
Ren nods.
“Do you feel better?” he asks.
I shake my head and shrug. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now. How am I supposed to act or speak? What should I be saying? What should I be doing? Everyone says I’m fucking up, but no one tells me what to do to fix it. It’s always—do better, but what am I supposed to be doing right now?!”
