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I closed my eyes to keep from screaming, then walked to my room and slammed the door. I couldn’t stay here with Piper— I had to leave. I had to go somewhere, anywhere. But who could I even call? The idea of calling Jacob was way too stressful; between their breakup and his injury and Adams’ video, even a string of text messages would be overwhelming. The truth was, other than a handful of people I knew from group projects, I only knew one person at Harton other than her roommates. I grabbed my phone and called.
“Hey. Things are just so crazy here— is there anyway you could come pick me up?” I said quietly into the phone.
There was a sharp knock on the door about an hour later. I had just finished packing a bag of clothes and my school stuff into the largest bag I had on hand. I slung it over my shoulder and left my bedroom to find Piper and Kiersten standing in the kitchen, staring at the person in the living room.
“Oh! Sasha,” Jenna said, smiling cheerfully. She looked tiny and compact and fierce, and her face was hard. “I was just telling Piper that she and Adams are going to shut the fuck up, or they’re going to be public enemy number one and two here at Harton.”
“What? How?” I asked, confused.
“Well, you see, there’s an ethics clause that all the athletes sign,” Jenna said, explaining this slowly, so there was no possibility Piper could fail to understand. “It’s pretty vague, but one part is clear— that nothing scandalous can happen in the McMillan Alumni Hall. The guy who donated the place, McMillan, was a Southern Baptist. Anything goes on there, the entire house goes back to his estate.”
“What’s McMillan Alumni Hall?” Kiersten asked.
“Football House,” Piper said, scowling. “But everyone drinks there, and besides, Sasha’s the one who’s underage. She’s the one breaking the actual law.”
“Ah, yes, that is true,” Jenna said, giving me a serious look. Then she turned back to Jenna and smiled, so artificially sweet that it could cut you. “But I’m not talking about the drinking. I’m talking about you and Adams fucking in the room upstairs. I saw it. Sasha saw it. Kiersten saw it. And moreover, the cameras in that house saw it.”
Piper laughed. “Well then guess what, Jenna? Jacob is in trouble too, because he’s forever fucking girls in that house.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Jacob goes to the garden. Or to the alumni building. Or his apartment. Not technically in Football House, which means the contract doesn’t apply.”
Piper’s face paled, and mine felt a swell of amazement. Was Jenna telling the truth?
“So you’re going to call the papers— whatever papers are posting this shit about Sasha— and tell them you lied. That you’re a stupid girl in need of attention, bitter that she didn’t get to fuck Jacob Everett, and that you made all that bullshit up. That Sasha is the best thing to ever happen to Jacob.”
“You’re over-reaching,” Piper said, regaining her composure. “Harton isn’t going to throw their only real quarterback off the team because he has consensual sex in some dead guy’s house.”
Jenna shrugged. “Probably not. You’re totally right. But Harton also isn’t going to let the football team continue to use Football House if there’s a risk of athletes getting themselves in trouble. So, do you want to tell everyone that you and Adams ruined everyone’s fun? Or should I? I mean, I feel like people will want to know that you’re the one who got the whole place shut down. They’ll probably turn it into a cocktail hall for alumni before or after games. You know, for fundraising stuff.”
Kiersten gasped and gave Piper a horrified look. Piper’s face contorted into something twisted and angry and, frankly, terrifying. Jenna smiled sweetly at her, then looked at me. “Ready to go?”
“More than ready,” I said, and followed Jenna toward the door.
“Oh!” Jenna said, glancing back. “By the way, Piper— I slept with Adams too, and eleven inches isn’t all that great when he clearly has no idea how to use it.”
***
Jacob’s injury was, to my relief, not as serious as it could have been. The Clemson game had definitely stressed it, but a couple of weeks later he was back in action and better than ever.
Jacob the conquering hero had finally returned.
The fact that he’d bounced back so resoundingly from his injury actually seemed to work in his favor, even, and rumors of him being a top draft pick filtered across the internet, the newspapers, the school. It made me smile each time I saw a new report, even though my heart continued to ache for Jacob.
A few times I caught myself thinking I might be starting to pull myself out of the hopeless pain I was feeling at being apart from him, only to be tossed back into sorrow when I saw someone that looked rather like him downtown, or even when I simply passed the alumni resort, or ate feta fries.
