“Alright,” I say, my voice thin. “Talk, then. You owe me that much.”
Adrian hesitates for a few seconds before he spits it out in a rush: “I’m so fucking sorry, Noah. About all of it. I never wanted you to get hurt, I swear. I didn’t know how bad it was—how bad your dad would be, or what he’d make me do. If I could take it back—”
“Did you spy on me for him?” I cut him off.
He nods, face crumpling. “Yeah. Yes. I did. I’m sorry. I—I know sorry isn’t enough, but I need you to know why.”
I stand there, heart pounding, because I need to hear it too. “Why? Why would you do that to me? I trusted you, Adrian! You were the first friend I made here, and now—” I stop myself, wiping at my face and hating the fact that I cry when I get angry. “Just tell me why.”
He finally meets my eyes, and his are red-rimmed, brimming with shame. “I know, and I don’t blame you if you hate me. But you have to know—I only did it because I didn’t have a choice.”
I want to snap at him, to demand to know what could possibly justify it, but the words get stuck behind the ache in his voice.
“My mom… I told you she’s one of the top coaches in California, right? Everyone thinks she’s got it together, thatshe’s perfect because she comes from a long line of generational athletes, but she’s—she’s got a problem with gambling.” He laughs, but it’s a hollow, cracked sound. “She started betting big after my dad died. I guess she thought she could fix everything with one big win. But she lost over and over, until we were in deep.”
I blink, thrown by the admission, my anger dulling as something akin to pity creeps in. Adrian’s always been quiet, so I never knew that he was even going through this.
“She owes people,” Adrian continues. “A lot of people. And not the kind who just send reminders. When I left for Blackthorne with only my trust intact, she swore she was clean. That she’d stopped. I believed her.”
Even though I’m listening, something still doesn’t add up. “So where does my dad come into this?”
He grimaces. “She met your dad at that Olympic retreat in Santa Monica last year. It was some coaching convention—sponsors, athletes, all the big names in one place.” He shakes his head, haunted. “He’s smart, your dad. Charming. Saw right through her in two seconds but kept stringing her along, especially after she told him about me and where I had my full ride. Next thing I know, he’s calling me. Not my mom—me. He wants to meet before the school year starts. I thought… I thought maybe he wanted to help.”
I told my dad I was choosing Blackthorne U before he went on that retreat. He hated that I chose this school but let me come here anyway because he knew the owners and didn’t want to insult them. Did he know Mien was playing ball here? Is that why… But there’s no way he could have known I was staying in the Sin Bin. God, I’m so confused.
Adrian looks at me with wide eyes, pleading for me to believe him. “But he didn’t want to help. He threatened me, Noah. Said he knew about the debts, about my mom’s history. Said he couldfix it, pay it off, make sure nobody in her circles ever found out—if I did one thing. If I became friends with his son who would be starting at Blackthorne soon. I had to spy on you, report back and give him updates.”
I can see it all too clearly. My dad’s calm voice, his polite smile, and the way he talks when he already knows he’s won.
My anger starts to cool, replaced by a strange, heavy sadness. I know what it’s like to want to protect someone, to want to fix things for your family, even if it means breaking yourself to do it.
My throat feels tight, and my head is spinning. “And you did it.”
He nods, shame written all over him. “I was scared, Noah. He’s not just your dad, he’s—he’s fucking terrifying. I love my mom, even though she’s strict and cold. I couldn’t let him ruin her career even more than she already has. So, I said yes. I told him what classes you had, what times you practiced, if you hung out with Damien too much, and how much time you spent in the pool. I didn’t know he’d use it like this. I swear.”
I shake my head, disbelief and betrayal squeezing my heart. I really trusted him and thought I made a friend, but it turns out I was just manipulated into it.
“The afternoon we met in the forest behind campus… that wasn’t an accident, was it?”
Adrian shakes his head and wipes at his face. “No, it wasn’t. I wanted to come clean so many times, Noah. Every time you looked at me, every time you asked if I was okay, I wanted to tell you. But he—he always finds out. He started threatening my career in both soccer and music. He said nobody would believe me, that he’d make it look like we were lying, blackmail us, ruin us. I didn’t know what to do.”
I hate that I believe him, but I know that’s how my dad operates, and I know what fear does. He doesn’t care about his own son; why would he care about someone else’s?
We don’t speak for a long moment. I look out at the pond, at the place that’s supposed to make me feel safe. My anger is a low burn now, mixed with a sick kind of sympathy.
“Did you ever want to hurt me?” I say as I turn back to Adrian, searching his face for the truth.
He shakes his head, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Never. I swear to god, I never wanted this. I never wanted you to get hurt.”
The apology is real; I can feel it. But it doesn’t erase the damage—nothing will. Still, I’m glad he told me, and I’m glad he came clean. Even if this means we can never be friends again.
I curl tighter into Damien’s hoodie, watching Adrian wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. The pond is quiet again, and I just breathe, letting the truth settle between us, raw and unfinished.
I close my eyes.
Anger is there, and it’s justified and loud, even as betrayal curls in my stomach. But layered underneath it is recognition. The awful understanding of what it feels like to be trapped by a parent who knows exactly which buttons to press.
When I open my eyes again, my conviction is steadier.
