Brad grabs the remote and turns up the volume on the television. My eyes flicker to the screen as I listen to the anchor say Tanner’s name. Barely able to comprehend everything, all I hear are the words angry, fists flying, knock out, damages, lawsuit. Tanner’s hands tighten further in mine, hearing the same thing. Then, she says one sentence, and my eyes close, willing the tears to stay back. I need to be the strong one now.
“Tanner McCain admitted to using performance-enhancing drugs two years ago, his senior year at Michigan University.”
Unable to breathe, my body slumps into his strong arms.
“Shit,” he mumbles. His breathing labored, his hands fall out of mine.
Swiveling around, I hold his face in my hands. “It’s okay,” I reassure him.
He inhales a huge breath and his face reddens with every second.
“Damn it.” He doesn’t move, frozen in place. Then, his eyes pierce Brad across the room. Stepping back from me, the anger pours off his every muscle as they tense. “You fucking ruined it.” His voice is so calm, so even, that I’d never guess the words he spoke.
Brad stands up, his vision pinning Tanner. “I’m sorry, man.” He shakes his head.
We all see the devastation on Brad’s face, but sorry doesn’t seem like enough right now.
“What’s going on?” Lana looks between the two of them.
My mom mimics Lana and peers over to me. Her eyes are sad because she knows exactly what’s about to happen. I’m going to either lose the man I love or my brother. There’s no way she can miss the rage creeping out of Tanner toward Brad.
“Fuck!” Tanner steps forward.
I instinctively place my hand on his chest, stopping him.
“Everything I’ve worked for is gone.” He pushes my hand off of him, never looking my way, storming for Brad.
“Tanner, you need to tell us what’s going on,” Lana tries to intervene.
Tanner shoots a look to his dad, and then he bumps Brad with his shoulder but walks past him without saying a word.
“Tanner!” I scream, running after him.
I catch him in the foyer, and his hand is on the doorknob with his back to me.
“Talk to me,” I plead.
His hand grips the knob in his hand. “I just need space,” he mumbles, facing the door.
“Look at me,” I beg further.
Minutes go by and it’s as though it takes every ounce of strength for him to turn around, but he does.
“Tan,” I sigh.
“Don’t, Piper.” He shakes his head. “It’s my doing. I did this to myself.” His head falls, and his body limps in front of me.
It kills me to witness him so defeated.
“I’m sorry,” I say. If it weren’t for Curtis, Tanner would still have his dream.
He breaks the distance, cupping my cheeks. “Don’t ever be sorry. Even if my shot at the Olympics are gone, you are what I can’t live without. You understand, right?”
He fixates on me, and I swallow, nodding. I wish he could have both, and I pray he still can.
“But I need to be alone right now before I beat the shit out of Brad.” His grip tightens a little. “Remember, I love you, okay?”
I nod, my vision becoming blurry from the wetness of my tears.
His hands fall from my face, and I stand alone in the foyer, watching his back as he walks out the front door.
How did my cloud dissipate so fast? I just crashed straight back down to reality.
When I walk back into the kitchen, Brad stops me, but I shake my head. Lana’s head is in her hands with Patrick’s arm around her.
“Why did he do this?” she yells. “Never would I have thought Tanner could do this.”
My mom rushes over to console her, but she stands up, making my mom’s arm fly off her shoulder.
“My son’s dream is gone.” She rushes out the back door.
I watch her keep going past the kitchen window, most likely to her own house. As I watch her, I notice Tanner’s car missing from their driveway, and I assume he went on a drive. It’s what he does when he’s upset, and I hope he doesn’t hurt himself or someone else.
Wanting to be alone, I walk into the family room, I turn up the television, focusing on how this all came out. Now, it’s another person from the show discussing the story. A clip of the fight last night plays on the television. Tanner is on top of Curtis, slamming his fist into Curtis’s face.
The caption reads, Olympic prospect, Tanner McCain, beats man.
What? I think to myself.
The man continues with his one-sided story, “Tanner McCain has been the main prospect in regard to the Olympics next year. He’s appeared in Swimming magazine and been acclaimed in numerous interviews. He is known for his speed and agility in the pool. Now, a video uploaded by a bystander last night has gone viral, and people are finding out there’s a very different side of Tanner—a violent side.”
Then, they show the clip again, stopping when I positioned myself between Tanner and Curtis.
The side-kick asks, “Who’s the girl you ask? Piper Ashby, Tanner’s college girlfriend. Who’s Tanner beating up? Curtis Zeker, son of Hugh Zeker of Zeker and Sons, who happens to be Piper’s boyfriend—well, until last night.”
I gasp when a clip of me saying I picked Tanner plays.
“She picks Tanner. Well, great, Piper Ashby, but America might not now.”
My insides shatter, and my head dips in my hands.
“Wait we have more to this story than just a guy fighting for the girl he loves. Stay tuned.”
The television flashes to a detergent commercial.
My breathing hitches, and I feel my throat constrict from the tears I want to shed.
I smell her flowery perfume before the couch dips, and her arms wrap around me.
“I’m sorry, baby.” Mom kisses my temple.
I lay my head on her shoulder. “I knew,” I tell her.
Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “I figured,” she admits.
I wrap my arms around her waist as she leans us back on the couch.
“His career is ruined. What do they know about—”
The side kick of the guy talks now, interrupting my question, and I bolt up to focus on him.
“After the video, we tried to contact both parties involved. Although we got no response from Tanner McCain—no surprise there since he has an image to protect—we did get a phone call from Curtis Zeker.”
Curtis’s fraternity picture appears on the television. He’s all smiles and innocence.
What a crock of shit.
“He came after me, unprovoked,” Curtis says.
“Are you going to press charges?” the lead guy asks.
I bite my lip, waiting for the answer.
“No. Tanner has a lot more problems than giving me a bloody nose.”
“What do you mean?” the anchor asks, his eyebrows rising as though he’ll be just as surprised as his audience as to what Curtis is about to say.
“I thought you guys were good at digging up information?” Curtis jokes.
“What do you know that you aren’t telling us, Mr. Zeker?” the anchor asks, taking a sip of his drink.
“Two years ago, Tanner McCain admitted to using performance-enhancing drugs while attending Michigan University.”
My hands tremble with his divulgence, and my lungs stop working. “What?” I murmur. “How did he know?”
As if hearing my thoughts, the anchor says, “Believe me when I say, numerous news anchors have tried to dig up some dirt on the golden boy, Tanner McCain. How on earth did you find this out? The girl?”
“You don’t expect me to give away my secrets, do you, Greg?”
Curtis’s sarcastic, witty personality has my hand itching to throw the vase at the television.
“How did he find out?” I ask silently to myself.
My mom answers, “Honey, his dad’s a lawyer. It’s what they do best.”
I look over, and she gives me a frown because she’s right. We pissed Curtis off, and I’m guessing he’s retained this information in his back pocket for some time.