“I’m not disclosing names,” Dad said in an even tone. I felt a sense of pride watching him keep his cool despite being asked the same question a million different ways. “It’s not my right and would be a massive invasion of privacy. What I can say is we’re taking care of our team, and an investigation has been opened on the matter.”
“Why wasn’t an investigation opened last year?” a reporter called out.
Dad blinked when a few camera lights flashed in his face. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t here, but I can say now that this has come to my attention, I’ll do everything I can to ensure my players have a safe place to discuss their concerns.”
“Why do you think Westbrooke worked so hard to bury this scandal, Coach Harrison?” someone wondered.
Dad took a breath and glanced over at his assistant coaches. They looked back, completely clueless as well considering they were new here too. “I don’t know what was buried and what was overlooked. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“What do you think about some of your players being accused of harassing Coach Axe before his suicide? There are reports of people seeing a few in the town where he lived.”
Dad’s expression darkened. I sat up straighter, ready to hear what he had to say and praying his words wouldn’t be taken in the wrong way. Mom held her breath too as she rubbed a nervous hand over her forehead.
“My boys have nothing to do with Coach Axe’s passing. I suggest you do more research and think a little harder about spreading lies. Those accusations are heinous and as damaging as what those coaches did to their players.” Dad stood from his seat and fumbled to get his mic off. Before he could the audio caught his final statement, “No more questions. This is ridiculous.”
The journalists called after him and the other coaches. The station let the camera run a little longer before cutting back to its anchors. I reached for the remote to turn the TV off.
“Did you manage to talk to your friend?” Mom asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I caught him.”
“How is he doing with all this?” She still rubbed my back, reminding me of how she used to sit with me when I used to catch colds as a kid.
“Not amazing but not horrible either,” I shared. “He’ll get through it.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She squeezed my shoulder before pulling her hand away. “And what about you? I know you’re feeling better nowadays. Still, between the move, your film, and today a lot’s been piled on.”
I perked up at the mention of my film. “Crap. The film. I’m supposed to do the final edits tonight. My class… We’re premiering them tomorrow.”
Mom grinned. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Is the viewing open to the public?”
I chewed on my lip, half tempted to lie. Except we worked hard to get back to being close. Shutting her out of this moment would be a step back. Besides, a part of me longed to show her what I’d been working on. How far I’d gotten in terms of maturity and skill.
The film wasn’t going to be the best in the class. Not by a long shot. My transitions were still choppy, and my overall thesis might have been too ambitious in comparison to the small amount of content I’d filmed. Despite all the shortcomings, I felt great about the outcome. Underneath my failing was something beautiful in the making.
“Could I get your opinion on it now?” I raised a brow at my mom.
She smiled, trying to keep herself cool, calm, and collected when she nodded in affirmation. “Of course, I’d love to take a look.”
I took a breath mixed with anxiety and relief before starting up the stairs to grab my laptop. Mom stayed quiet as I set up the film for her. When I sunk into the cushion beside her, I took a final deep breath before pressing play.
Chapter 36
Thegreenhousehadmorevisitors than usual. I’d come to pack up the last few things from my set-up. A few students glanced in my direction with curious looks, but no one stopped me once I headed upstairs. Packing up my things felt bittersweet.
As I removed the white bed sheet from the rope, I remembered I had to invite Ari and Yara to the screening tonight. The idea of showing them my work made me nervous, but I’d forced myself to do it. Even if they weren’t that impressed, I’m sure they’d be supportive.
I didn’t turn around when I heard someone coming up the stairs. I assumed it was one of the students needing an extra bag of planting soil or a new nursery pot.
“Hey,” Dakota’s voice pulled me out of autopilot mode.
I turned around and smiled. “Hi. I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
It’d be a few weeks since the game against Amber U. Quite a few things changed on campus and on the football team. And it started with the school holding an open hall hosted by the emergency team. People who felt comfortable enough came forward to share their ideas on how to make the campus a safer place.
Westbrooke had also been invaded by the police and journalists for the first few weeks post-game. A few guys on the team were questioned and followed by journalists searching for a full scoop.
“I thought we could walk to our shift together?” Dakota came closer and helped me stuff my remaining decor into my duffel bag.
