“Why are you looking like that?” I wondered as she approached my desk.
“There was the breakup news one week,” Alexa explained, keeping her voice down in my empty classroom. “Then the funeral last week. And with everything this week, I just… want to make sure you’re okay.”
Everything this week?
I cocked my head to the side. Something about the way she paused felt off. “Alexa, what’s up?”
She looked behind her and then leaned across my desk. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I saw a video about Hollywood and his ex-girlfriend reconnecting at the game on Sunday and being spotted together this week. With you losing your aunt and then you losing… the guy, I just…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Do you want to go out and get a drink this weekend?”
“I’m leaving town tonight.”
“Oh! Okay, maybe next weekend.”
“Maybe.” I gave her a small smile. “Let’s talk about it next week.”
She came around my desk and gave me a hug. “I’m here for you,” she said sweetly.
I hugged her back. “Thanks, Alexa.”
Students started filing into the classroom as my final class of the day was about to start. The time moved quickly, and by the final bell, I didn’t know who was more excited for the three-day weekend, meor the students. I packed up my belongings and was just walking out the door when Ben Riker popped up out of nowhere.
“Jazmyn,” he called out from right behind me.
“Ben!” I yelped, jumping out of my skin. “Where the hell did you come from?”
He pointed down the sidewalk. “I had parking lot duty.” He paused for only a second. “Just so you know, ever since that Milan bullshit popped up, I removed Hollywood from all three of my fantasy teams. No dude who does my friend dirty will get any playing time on my roster.”
I furrowed my brows but kept walking toward my car. “He got one and a half sacks this past Sunday against a great offensive line, and the Monarchs are playing the Nightcrawlers on Sunday. The Nightcrawlers have one of the worst O-lines in the league right now. Was that smart?”
He gave me a look. “I was trying to be a good friend, but you know in that league with my college friends, the pot is a thousand dollars.”
“Do what you need to do for the win. I’m not worried about what’s being said about Hollywood and Milan. None of that has anything to do with me.”
He looked skeptical as I unlocked my car. “Jazz, come on. It’s me. You can tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“You know he didn’t lose out on Defensive Player of the Month because of you, right?”
Feeling a chill down my spine, I climbed in my car. “I’ll see you Tuesday, Ben.”
“The way he played Sunday, he’ll be up for it again in October.” He waved and flashed a smile even though there was concern on his face. “See you Tuesday.”
Even though Ben knew football and he saw the discourse online, his assertion that it hadn’t been my fault was biased because of our friendship.
Because it was my fault. Maybe not all my fault…I made a face.But I am the reason.
I knew it wasn’tdirectlymy fault. But when they’d announcedSeptember’s winner during the first week of October and Lamar didn’t get crowned, I felt responsible. But with Aunt Addy’s death and then her memorial service, it was the last thing on my mind. And he’d been so busy taking care of me, he’d never brought it up.
Neither of us was on social media a lot lately, so it was easy to forget—especially with how well he’d played. But Ben mentioning the monthly honor had reminded me that Lamar didn’t know why he hadn’t been rewarded. I honestly didn’t think Lamar realized to what extent the backlash to us being together harmed his career.
There were people who’d voted for Lionel Timmons because he had been a league superstar for the last four years. What he did in the first week of the year with his sack, fumble recovery, and touchdown at the end of the game was exciting. He had a solid game every week, except for an uncharacteristically bad game two weeks ago, so him being in the running had made sense. But my unbiased opinion was that Lamar was better. Statistically, Lamar had more tackles, more yards for a loss, more fumble recoveries, and more sacks than Lionel.
But Lionel was married to a thin, racially ambiguous woman with blonde hair and a million followers on social media. I didn’t keep up with her, but I knew who she was. And a couple of weeks ago, I’d seen at least two videos stating that Lionel’s wife was the opposite of Lamar’s alleged girlfriend, so they were voting for Lionel to get the honor.
And because Lionel was one of the GOATs in Lamar’s eyes, it didn’t even occur to him that the only reason he’d lost the title was because of his relationship with me.
So, while I appreciated Ben’s positive outlook, I knew the truth.
