Page 104 of The Game We Played

Beth grins, and Anne mouthswe are.

“I don’t want to prank Tanner. I want to figure out how to rewrite the article on Coach Knox.”

Beth growls. “That magazine doesn’t deserve another article from you.”

“Jerks. Our sister is the best writer in the world.”

I stare at Anne. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“Not lying. Your articles in theSmuggler’s Gazetteare hilarious. I cut them out and hang them up in the locker room at the hospital.”

My mouth drops open. “You do?”

“I buy the newspaper,” Beth says.

“If you rewrite the article on Coach Knox, don’t offer it to the sports magazine. Publish it somewhere else.”

“Where?” I ask Anne.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re the journalist.”

I am the journalist. I’m not some gossip columnist who would expose Tanner’s secret to make a buck. No, I write real stories about real people.

I should write a story about what an asshole Sam is. An agent who betrays his client doesn’t deserve the client. Except Tanner didn’t believe me when I told him Sam betrayed him. He thinks Sam is loyal to him.

Loyal to him, my ass. But what is loyalty in the sports world?

Beth waves her hand in front of my face. “Earth to Alaia.”

I slap her hand away. “Sorry. I had an idea for an article.”

They stand. “Our work here is done.”

Anne snatches the ice cream from my lap and Beth replaces it with my laptop. “Get to work.”

I barely hear her. Ideas are bombarding me. This isn’t a prank, but it will be a bit of sweet, sweet revenge. And the article may just be what theGazetteneeds to stay in circulation.

Chapter 32

BREAKING: MAN REFUSES TO LISTEN… UNTIL PRESENTED WITH RECEIPTS Sources confirm “He messed up”

Tanner

I run the same route again. Sprint. Cut. Plant. Turn. Reset. The second I finish the route, I start again. I run the same route on repeat. There’s no one else here. The rest of the team finished practice a while ago and left.

I stayed. Routes don’t lie. There are no surprises and no betrayal here. If I work hard, it works. Unlike people who can’t be trusted. Who says things they don’t mean.

I stumble. I force thoughts of Alaia and her betrayal away. I concentrate on football. It never lets me down.

“Tanner!” the equipment manager yells. “Ball machine is all yours.”

I skid to a stop and rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Once my breathing is steady, I make my way across the field to the ball machine. I nod to the equipment manager, who starts the machine.

I stand in front of it, catching balls at high speed. There is no talking. There’s no time for self-reflection. Justthwack-thwack-thwack.

The machine doesn’t judge me. Like my dad does.Thwack.Or my mom.Thwack.Or my siblings.Thwack.Or Alaia after she watches the video.

Shit. Has she watched the video? Does she know what happened? Is she judging me? Does she believe the senator? Does she think—