Page 104 of Puck Fest
“This team was playoff-bound before the scandal. Now they’re fighting just to stay in contention.”
“You have to wonder if the locker room can recover from this distraction.”
I turn off the television and toss the remote onto the couch.
It’s been two weeks since the videos went viral. I can’t believe how much has happened between then and now. Noah released that statement ending us and then Alex’s article dropped and destroyed what little we had left.
I’ve tried reaching out to Noah. He blocked my number so I used a different one, borrowed Carter’s phone, even sent an email. Nothing. He won’t talk to me.
And I’m stuck here. Suspended for eight more games. Banned from the arena. Alone in my apartment with nothing but time to think about how I fucked everything up.
I tried to defend us. I figured if I talked to Alex and set the record straight, people would understand.
Instead, he twisted every fucking word and made it sound like Noah gave me special treatment. Like we were lying about the timeline. Like everything was inappropriate from the start.
And now Noah’s unemployed. His career in sports PR is probably over. His father’s reputation is damaged.
All because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
My phone buzzes with a text from Carter.
You good?
I don’t respond. It’s the same question he’s asked every day for a week. I never respond.
I’m not good. I haven’t been good since I watched Noah walk away from me after telling me he couldn’t live with losing me but couldn’t live with keeping me either.
Since I read that statement announcing our relationship was over before he even had the balls to tell me himself.
Since I gave Alex that interview thinking I was helping and instead handed him the ammunition to destroy us both.
I grab my keys.
I can’t stay here. Can’t sit in this apartment for another second staring at walls and replaying every mistake.
I drive without really thinking about where I’m going. Just away. Out of Oakland, into San Francisco, taking exits on autopilot until I’m pulling up to a house I haven’t been to since beforePuck Fest.
My parents’ place.
I sit in the driveway for a minute, staring at the front door.
I’ve been avoiding this. Avoiding them. Ever since the assault, I couldn’t face them. I couldn’t handle the disappointment, the questions and the way they’d look at me knowing I fucked up that badly.
So I kept my distance. Sent texts that said I was fine. Dodged invitations to dinner. Made boatloads of excuses.
And now I’m here because I have nowhere else to go.
I knock on the door.
My mom answers. Her eyes fly open wide.
“Danny?”
“Hi, Mom.”
She pulls me into a hug before I can say anything else. Tight. Like she’s been waiting for weeks to do this.
“Get in here. Why are you standing on the porch like a stranger?”
