“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.

“Do you think he knew the whole time?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter now. It’s out. We all have to deal with it.” Her eyes veer to Brad in the kitchen.

His phone rings, and he walks into the foyer.

“Why is Tanner mad at Brad?”

Her question should be simple, but it’s not. Here I am, going to deceive her again because it’s not my news to reveal.

“I don’t know,” I lie.

Her eyebrows arch. She clearly doesn’t believe me.

The television grabs my attention again.

The anchor closes his segment, “That’s it, folks. Tanner McCain has been fooling everyone until now. He’s an angry and violent drug addict, who isn’t as speedy as we thought. I’m sure more will transpire in regard to this, and we’re your number one news source, so stay tuned.”

Then, the screen goes black, and I look to my left, seeing the remote in my dad’s hand.

“Enough. We know the real Tanner.” He throws the remote on the table.

My mom and I jump.

“What’s he going to do, Mom? What if he loses it all?” I bury my head in her chest.

Her arms wrap around, holding me to her. “Don’t worry, honey. Tanner will come through this. We’ll find good people to help him.”

She tries to soothe me, but fear lingers that our second chance just vanished with the click of an Upload button.

“I can’t lose him, Mom. I just got him back.” I shudder.

She pulls me closer. “You won’t. That boy loves you.”

I wet her shirt with my tears, praying this will all disappear.

“Bayli!” Brad screams. “There are more important things than your damn wedding.”

I perk up, and my mom looks down at me, taking in a long deep breath.

“Our wedding. Yeah.”

We stand, and everyone in the kitchen glances his way.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” He ends the call and jogs up the stairs. The door slams, and a second later, his fist crashes into the wall.

“Another damn hole I’ll have to fix,” my dad says.

My mom shoots him a look, silently saying, Not now.

“What? Just because everything is going to pot doesn’t mean my house has to, too.” He retreats away from the kitchen table before descending the basement stairs.

I take a seat at the table. “So, what’s up, Dylan?” I sarcastically ask.