Page 121 of Colliding with Ten

“Nervous? Why?”

She laughed. “You’re always so well put together. I kept thinking, what am I supposed to wear sitting across from Lennox Monroe?”

The dress fit her like it had been designed with her in mind. She crossed her legs with ease, her presence warming the set. Zariah was stunning in more ways than one.

I smiled. “You look great. You didn’t have anything to worry about.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “High praise.”

The chemistry was there. She was smart and funny, and the interview started with an easy vibe.

“Alright.” Zariah glanced at her notes. “Let’s talk football.”

We kept up the banter between questions. She asked about the Buffalo game plan and how we were doing in this half of the season. We also discussed the chemistry with my receivers. She’d done real preparation and wasn't interested in softballs.

“So,” she said, shifting gears, “when you were a kid, did you always see yourself as a quarterback?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“No?”

“I thought I’d be playing basketball. Point guard.”

Her mouth parted in surprise. “Really?”

“Really.”

She laughed. “That’s not the answer I expected.”

I tilted my head. “I know you’re familiar with that kind of dream.”

Her smile faltered. It was quick; most people wouldn’t have caught it.

She waved a hand. “Ancient history.”

“Loyola, right?” I asked. “Two seasons as starting point guard. Led the conference in assists your junior year.”

She stared at me. “How did you know that?”

“I’m a fan of basketball. You had a clean handle. Court vision, too.”

She chuckled, shaking her head.

“I was never as good as you. But I dreamed anyway.” I continued

“But then I got injured and ended up somewhere I didn’t plan,” Zariah said.

“Sometimes the best stories can come from unplanned adventures.”

She smiled, and the interview became a conversation between two people who had a lot in common. Halfway through her next question, I felt Jace’s eyes on me. He was posted up behind the cameras, body rigid, eyes volleying between Zariah and me.

I leaned back in my chair, widening the space between us. It was subtle and wouldn’t register on camera. I made it clear I wasn’t interested in crossing a line he hadn’t admitted he cared about yet. But I couldn’t shut it down either. The cameras were rolling, and Zariah was doing a brilliant job. Pulling back too hard would seem cold or dismissive. I couldn’t do that to her, so I stayed engaged without being intimate.

Zariah noticed the shift, but as a professional, she adjusted. That was part of what made her exceptional. From the corner of my eye, Jace’s tension faded.

The interview turned a corner. “There’s been a lot of talk lately, not just about your performance on the field, but your life off it.” She paused. “It started, I think, with a video from the Denver airport, you and a young woman, sitting together. Someone filmed it, posted it, and it took on a life of its own. Then there were photos from a game earlier this season. The speculation has been pretty relentless. How do you feel about that level of scrutiny following you into spaces that have nothing to do with football?”

The lights were hot. I leaned back, running my tongue across my cheek. I had to choose my words carefully. The video went viral weeks ago, but only this week, reading the interview notes, did I realize how horribly Ayla was treated online. How had it taken me this long to see the racial abuse she’d endured? Because of me. Because of us. I couldn’t help wondering if that was part of why she hadn’t called and why she left.