I’m eager to reach him, but he stands up, pacing the floor.

“Good?” His head tosses back. “You’re kidding me! I ruined my life a year and a half ago. I lost my swimming career first, and then a month later, she slipped from my grasp.”

I close my eyes, and my anger simmers when he finally admits how much it hurt when Taylor left.

“Then, go get her. Stop sitting on your ass, and don’t marry a girl you don’t love. Go after the one you love,” I hammer back.

An empty laugh emerges from his lips. “It’s not that simple.” His fingers link behind his head, and he tips it back. “I ruined it, ruined us.” When his head rises, I see the tears in his eyes. “I lost everything I loved within weeks of each other.”

“I can’t make you fight for her, but, Brad, you can fight for Tanner today. If his friendship means what you say it does, it shouldn’t be a question for you to save him now.” My shoulders deflate, and I hope he sees the light out of the dark hole he’s put himself into.

His eyes darken, and the sadness that filled them seconds ago is gone. “Let me guess. This is something you’ll benefit from? Don’t worry. Your golden boy will come out as shiny as ever,” he says in a condescending tone, tilting his head.

“That’s it.” Dylan rushes across the room. Both his hands grip Brad’s shirt, pushing him against the wall. “You fucking piece of shit. Snap the hell out of it. This isn’t you, Brad. You aren’t this much of an asshole.”

Brad holds out his arms to the side. “Or am I?” He raises his eyebrows a few times.

“Come on, you’re going to let my brother sink out there?” Dylan asks, his anger already subduing.

“All right. God.” Brad takes his arm and swipes down over Dylan’s grip. “I get it. Okay?”

Dylan backs off, and Brad straightens out his shirt. He turns around. One could hear a pin drop from how quiet it is. Brad’s fingers clasp behind his head, and he paces back and forth in front of the food table.

He looks over at our dad. “You have any idea what it’s like to be second-best? Envious of your best friend who holds everything that you want in his hands?”

My dad stands up and walks toward him.

Brad’s head hangs down. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“I know, Brad. It’s okay.” My dad wraps his arm around Brad’s shoulders and I hear soft sniffles from Brad. I want to run over to him, wrap my arms around his body and make the pain go away. But I won’t because he needs to fix his life himself.

The two of them walk out the doors of the green room.

I follow them to the door, and when we reach the outside, I hear Ken, Tanner’s lawyer, introduce himself to the press. Lana and Patrick are composed, both their hands clasped in front of them. Brad and our dad inch closer, and Lana sees Brad first, a somber look across her face.

I lean against the wall beside Lana. Brad and our dad walk up to the podium, and a million flashes go off. Tanner peers up and shakes his head to Brad, but Brad shakes his right back, placing his hand on Tanner’s shoulder to keep him seated.

“Don’t,” Tanner says.

Brad waits by Ken for his turn at the microphone.

Ken covers up the microphone and leans back to see what exactly is happening now. “Hold on. We’ll be right back. Sorry, everyone.”

Ken ushers them off the stage, the opposite side of us, so the McCains and I go around.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks. “This isn’t the way to get the press conference going.” His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he rolls back and forth on his heels.

“Nothing.” Tanner turns to Brad. “Let it go. I’m fine with this.”

“Don’t seriously make me beat the shit out of you. I’m a prick, and it might have taken me a long time to realize that my jealousy of you was actually ruining our friendship. Truth is, I am, so fucking green with envy that I can barely see straight. It was our dream, Tanner. You got it, and I didn’t. It was hard to swallow. It still is, if I’m being honest.”

“I know.” Tanner’s guilt shows from his sympathetic eyes to his deflated body.

“I’ve made you feel guilty for it,” Brad admits. “I sat back while I let someone I consider my brother lose his girl and now almost his dignity. I’m sorry.”

Brad’s honesty amazes me in this moment, especially after how it took forever for him to come around in the other room. Was it Dylan who finally got through to him?

Lana peers over to me, but I shrug.

“We made the decision together,” Tanner fights.

Brad interjects, “You did it to give me a chance, and I still couldn’t make the team. I should have never let you do it. So, today, we set it straight.” Brad looks Ken in the eyes. “It was me, my urine. Tanner took the fall for me. He’s never touched any pill, powder, or shot that would increase his chances.”

Ken glances to Tanner, and Tanner nods.

“You’re ready to admit that to all those people?” Ken points to the room.

“Yeah. It’s long overdue.” Brad turns around and walks into the room without saying anything else.

Tanner follows, and the rest of us lean against the wall, still absorbing how much these two boys care for one another.

I notice all the confused faces of the press people as Brad takes the podium. My own gut clenches for Brad, but I’m proud of him, too.

Ken stands behind him while Tanner remains next to Brad.

“Hi, everyone.” Brad’s voice shakes. “My name is Brad Ashby, and I swam with Tanner back at Michigan. Well, the positive drug test Curtis Zeker has uncovered, um . . . was used with my urine.”

Flashes go off, and Brad hangs his head. The reporters begin spouting off questions.

Ken leans forward. “Please hold all questions until the end.”

Some reporters stop, and then someone grabs my hand. I look over, and see my mom. Her eyes flick to the room and back to Brad on the stage. She releases a breath and squeezes my hand.

“Like I was saying, Tanner’s a great friend, the best actually. I could stand up here and go through our past together since we were seven. But all you really need to know is, Tanner got into a car accident near the end of our senior year. His injury took him out that season. I began a regiment of an enhancement drug to give me an edge with the hopes that the Olympic Training Center would pick me up as they’d already asked Tanner.”

The room gasps as though it’s some hidden secret of why they’re all here.

“Tanner took the fall since he couldn’t swim the rest of the season. He took his drug test and switched the urine with mine that tested as positive for enhancement drugs.”

The reporters all shout questions to Brad, but he holds his hands up.

“Please give me a second to finish. Tanner McCain is a lot of things. He’s a great friend, a fierce competitor, one of the best swimmers in the country, but he’s not a cheater. I take full responsibility.”

Tanner pats Brad on the shoulder, and they share a look.

“Why should we believe you?” a reporter calls out.

Ken tries to intervene, but Brad answers, “Do your research. You’ll see his times have only increased in the two years he’s been training in Colorado. All his drug screenings are negative. Do the math, and I’m pretty sure you’ll conclude the right answer.”

A few more questions are asked, and Ken answers instead of Brad or Tanner. Ten minutes later, they walk off the stage, and I rush over to Brad, giving him a huge hug.

“You did the right thing,” I whisper.

He nods. “Thanks to you and Dylan for the wake-up call.”

“That’s why I’m here.” I push back from his arms. “Now, you just need to do one thing, and you’ll be on the right track.”

I tighten my lips, and he nods.

“Let me just get through this right now.” He walks away to our mom.

She gives him a stern look but then takes him into her arms.

Lana is bawling into Tanner’s arms as I wait patiently for him. He tears himself away from her, handing her off to his dad. Turning my way, he smiles and walks over.