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“See, I also did my research before I gotintobusiness. And when I set up my platforms, I had some opt-in in place. You probably got the screen when you clicked follow. You definitely got one when you opted to send me a message. Oh wait, I have a copy of it.”
I hold my phone up and scan back to the screen where he clearly got the disclaimer, terms and conditions.
“Anywho, when someone sends me content through one of my platforms, they give up the rights to that content. It states so before and after every opt-in you do. When you followed me? Opted into that. When you messaged me? Yeah, opted in. So, this dick pic? I own it. And I can do with it as I please.”
That part is a bit of a bluff because I’m sure extortion is not written into my terms and conditions. Jeremy did try to explain that to me, but I didn’t want to lose my nerve so I made him power through so I could get here.
“Anyhow, I’m sure your daddy wouldn’t want to see how liberal you are sharing the family jewels. Do you?” I level him with a stare, casually pushing my phone back into my pocket, ignoring the thumping of nerves in my chest.
His mouth tightens before he bursts out, “Fuck!”
He pushes the letter back to me, but I shake my head.
“No, that’s your copy,” I say.
Toby rips it up and throws the paper bits in my face. I don’t even flinch. I do laugh, however.
“You probably have some phone calls to make, so I’ll leave you to it,” I say, spinning on my heels and marching down the hall with a sway in my hips. I haven’t felt that sway in a long time. I’ve missed it.
When I step through the stairwell, Cameron is waiting for me a few feet from the door. He holds his finger to his mouth and nods for me to follow him down to his and Theo’s room. We wait until we get inside and he shuts the door, then we dance like childish fools because we just pulled off a massive crime. I don’t feel the least bit guilty.
Chapter22
James
It’s never good when my dad says he wants to meet. It’s even worse when that meeting is one-on-one—and the day beforegame day.The fact Toby was not at practice today does not help. Our biggest game yet is tomorrow, and if I’m benched or suspended or whatever the hell is in the works, I’m going to be sick.
I’ll be more than sick.
I’ll be devastated.
“Hey, good work today. Good work today. Keep it up. Bring that tomorrow. Bright and early.” My dad pounds fists with every single player as they exit the locker room. I’m on the bench by my locker, fiddling with my shoes.
“What’s up with this?” Theo asks, leaning into me and keeping his voice down as he passes by.
I shrug.
“No clue. Kinda dreading it, though,” I admit.
Theo pinches his brow then looks at my father as if he’ll somehow read some clue that will enlighten us all. My dad’s a lockbox. Whatever he has to say will stay in this locker room, for my ears only.
“It’s gonna be just fine; I know it,” Cameron says, practically singing the words. Theo steps into his space and sniffs him, then looks at me.
“I don’t think he’s high,” he says.
I laugh lightly, but Cameron simply lifts his shoulders.
“Just high on life, fellas,” he says, then whistles and drops his hands in his pockets on his way out of the locker room.
Theo shakes his head as our friend walks out, then looks back to me.
“Text me if it’s something big. If I need to make some people feel uncomfortable, I can do that too.” He nods and I nod back, though I don’t think he’s going to need to do any of that. Whatever that means. The way people put pressure on each other around here is beyond me, and I don’t think I will ever be good at these mind games. I’m fine with that, though. I’ve been true to myself, and my papa always said that’s what mattered in the long run. I hope that means I’ll be able to run a business someday.
The locker room empty, my dad walks back into the main area and glances around. His eyes are full of distrust, and I get it. The way things have been lately, it feels as if there are microphones—and apparently cameras—everywhere.
“Let’s just talk in your office,” I say.
He nods and I follow him into the small room where he closes the door. He sits on the edge of his desk, and I take one of the chairs against the wall, bracing myself for whatever news he has.
