Respectfully,
Dr. Ethridge
Even her professors had seen the article? Read those lies about her? Possibly even believed them? There had to be some doubt about her character if they wanted her to create a written rebuttal.
All she’d wanted was to help people, and now everyone thought all she wanted was to sleep with Seth. How had it gotten to this? How could one innocent date that had fifty chaperones be painted in such a twisted light? And how did the paparazzo know they’d be there anyway? It was possible that a fan tipped them off, but could they have gotten there so quickly?
Go somewhere you’re actually wanted before reality starts knocking on your door.
Kayla’s words played back like a nightmare. She couldn’t be behind all this, could she?
Chapter Twenty-One
Where’s Amber?
Seth had watched her head into the center during a water break, but that had been—he glanced at his watch—over three hours ago. The younger kids had long gone, and the older ones were now warming up, getting ready to practice corner kicks and controlling the direction of the ball with a header.
He placed a hand over his eyes to block out the afternoon sun, scanning first the pitch and then the center’s building. Nothing. No slender, athletic form. No golden strands of hair that soaked up the sun. No soft laughter that made his pulse race faster than hearing the starting whistle of a high-stakes game.
He jogged over to his duffel bag, lying on the grass by a goal post, then rummaged through, pulled out his cell, found her contact info, and tapped the call sign. Voicemail picked up, and he ended the call with a growl.
This wasn’t like her. Pristinely responsible, she wouldn’tnotshow up to a job. Especially one that meant so much to her and others. Too much was at stake.
Whereisshe?
He didn’t want to overreact, but concern was making his mind jump to all sorts of scenarios. None of them good.
Should he pause practice? Maybe send one of the teenage girls into the center to check on her? But if she’d retreated to her dorm room for some reason, or anywhere else, he wouldn’t be able to find her. No matter how much he wanted to drop everything and make sure she was okay, he couldn’t. But he could put someone else on her trail.
He dialed Mila and let her know Amber was missing and asked if she could check up on her. Mila didn’t sound worried, but the reassurance did nothing to calm his nerves.
The kids ran down the track on their last lap, then pulled up beside him. Some bent at the waist, bracing their hands on their knees and gulping in huge breaths. Others grinned as if they’d been looking forward to the physical exertion all day.
Seth clapped his hands. “Listen up. You guys have come a long way in a short time, but if you plan on beating the competition in next week’s game—a team that has been playing together for years—then you need to start working together as a unit. A family.” He let his gaze bore into each kid until they met his eyes. Through that connection, he poured his belief into them. That they’d worked hard and deserved to be there. They were worthy, no matter what they’d heard other people tell them. He was counting on them, and they could count on him in return.
One by one, spines straightened and rounded shoulders squared. Determination etched across faces and eyes lit with purpose. Would they win? Didn’t matter as much as watching them work together to conquer something put in their path. But, for their sake, he did hope they’d win. If anyone needed to feel victorious, even for a few brief moments, it was these kids.
“All right. We’re going to start off working on our passing drills before we move on to corner kicks and headers. You guys are fast, and you play all out, but even the fastest person can’t outrun the ball. Okay, let’s begin.” He blew his whistle and watched as the players took pre-assigned positions on the field, putting the ball in motion and passing it to teammates in a drill they’d practiced before.
Still no Amber. Unease crawled across his skin. He’d woken up determined to tell her about the paparazzo that had tailed them in the park but hadn’t had the opportunity yet. How she’d not been aware of the flash of the camera, he didn’t know. He should have told her then. Made her aware of what could happen so she could prepare.
But a small part of him had hoped the episode wouldn’t amount to anything. They’d only been walking in a public park. Nothing had happened, not even a kiss, so the press had zilch to report. He didn’t want to scare her. Wasn’t that one of her concerns about starting a relationship with him in the first place? That his very public life would shove her into the spotlight as well?
But he’d realized those justifications were the voice of his old self talking, and he didn’t want to hide things from Amber. Especially things that could be potential problems. So even though it gutted him—take a spoon and scoop out his insides, gutted him—to think about her reaction, terrified him to even consider she might step back and change her mind about getting to know him better and pursue this unnamed connection they shared, he was determined to tell her. Just in case. Because it was the right thing to do.
Commotion on the pitch brought his head up. Zaid rounded the building and walked slowly toward centerfield, one arm cradled in his hand. Even from the distance, Seth could see something was wrong with the boy. The closer Zaid drew, the more horrifying the picture became. Left eye swollen nearly shut, bottom lip busted. Dark, dried blood spotting his shirt.
Seth ran over to him, followed by the rest of the kids. He put a light hand on Zaid’s shoulder, afraid to touch any unseen injuries. “Are you okay?” He caught Yosef’s eye. “Run inside and find Ben. Tell him to call the police.”
“No.” Zaid’s nostrils flared. “No police.”
Seth waited for Zaid to look at him, but the boy stubbornly refused. “An attack like this needs to be reported.”
“No. It is nothing. I come to play football. If you call police, I will tell them nothing. I will leave.”
Seth let his chin fall to his chest. Everything within him said to report the crime, but if Zaid wouldn’t press charges, what was the point? He’d only push Zaid away and maybe some of the other kids as well.
“Fine. We won’t call the police. Tell me what happened.”
