A Different Side (University Park #4) (53 page)

“Got it, Mr. Marshall.” I nodded while wiping the sweat from my hands. My stomach started to tense as I thought about reading the statement at the podium. I’d never been nervous to speak in front of the camera, but this time was different. I wouldn’t be boasting about a win or discussing what we did during practice to get us ready for a game. No, I’d be confessing why I wouldn’t be able to play in our biggest bowl game ever. PHU fans were going to be so disappointed in me. I wasn’t sure whether admitting I was drugged would help me or not, but I had to keep the faith and hope that by speaking out, it would prove to be in my favor.

Lexi reached for my hand and I gripped hers tightly. She stroked the top of my hand with her thumb, trying to ease my unspoken fears and worries. Only Lexi could settle the storm rising inside of me.

“And by God, stay away from the damn parties. Especially Jared Harrington’s place.” Mr. Marshall struggled to turn around. “If I get word that you’ve stepped one foot in that shithead’s place, I’ll rip your legs off myself.”

By the sound of his voice, I knew he meant business. “Yes, sir.” I straightened in my seat. “I’m staying far away from him.”

“Good.”

“Rule number two,” Mr. Marshall took a deep breath before continuing, “no talking to the media.”

“Understood,” Lexi replied.

“Now, there’s no need to be ugly or a bitch if they confront you. But you just tell them
no comment
,” Mr. Marshall and I said in unison.

Mr. Marshall hooked a thumb at me. “See, he knows.” He laughed and then started coughing. The guy was grossly overweight and I hoped he wasn’t on the verge of a heart attack.

“Rule number three, don’t get caught doing something with Raven that will get him in trouble. Or you, for that matter.”

“Got it.” She smiled and squeezed my hand. “Behave ourselves in public.”

“Basically, or don’t get caught with your panties around your ankles or his jon hanging out of his pants.”

Lexi’s mouth nearly hit the floorboard. I couldn’t believe he’d said that. Did he think Lexi was one of my hoes or what? She shot me look that said I better set the record straight. I inched forward and placed my hand on the back of his seat, getting his full attention. “That won’t be happening, Mr. Marshall. Lexi is a well-respected woman. I would never do anything like that to disgrace her and she would never do anything to dishonor me.”

“I’m glad you got a good girl and dumped those cock-sucking hoes. They were all trouble for you, son.” Mr. Marshall patted my hand in approval.

Lexi shook her head, still stunned with his choice of words. I had forgotten to warn her that he was a little lewd at times. He was the typical good ole’ Texan attorney that had a mouth on him. What could I do? I needed his help.

“Final rule…” Mr. Marshall adjusted his seatbelt and turned to face Lexi, “keep what’s going on with Raven between the two of you. Don’t go telling your family and friends. We don’t need any more gossip spreading. Got it?”

“Of course.” She nodded and gave him an agreeing smile. I knew I could trust Lexi. She wasn’t the type to gossip. Her parents and sister concerned me the most. Although I wanted her to reconcile with them, I was worried what she might tell them and what they might do with that information.

“You’ve got the parking pass and our badges?” Mr. Marshall asked as Steve pulled into the parking lot in front of the pro-football stadium.

“Right here.” Steve picked up a gray envelope and laid it on the console. “Raven, not sure if Mr. Marshall told you, but I called and talked to the assistant at the athletics’ office and arranged for us to have a parking pass and media badges.”

“Yes, he informed me. Thank you for picking them up for us.”

Fans from PHU and Tri-Gold State University made their way to the stadium, supporting their favorite players, which included me. Everywhere I turned, I saw people wearing my jersey. Signs and other game paraphernalia had
Davenport
in large letters with the big number
6
on it. A sickening feeling hit, sucking what energy I had left in me. After today, I wasn’t sure if I’d be their favorite player.

The stadium opened the gates for a free viewing of the press conference on their huge display screens. Media vans from local TV stations and different vendors were set up, ready to get a piece of the action. The parking lot was a mixture of fans from both schools. Tailgaters were set up with their barbecue grills and large flat screen TVs, some sporting PHU’s purple and white flag with the stately dragon, while others donned the bright blue and yellow eagle.

Steve slowed the vehicle when a security guard waved for us to stop. “Good evening.” The guy dressed in full tactical gear greeted us as the dark tinted window slid down.

“Hello. We are here for Park Hill University’s press conference.” He handed the guard our passes.

The guard reviewed the cards stuck in plastic sleeves before returning them. “Drive to where that man is standing and he’ll direct you where to park.”

“Thank you.” Steve closed the window and drove forward.

“Sweet.” I had to admit being there at the stadium was pretty damn cool. We were parking in the front row where all the VIP and pro-football players had marked spaces. But the little spark of excitement quickly diminished when I saw a fan holding a sign that said,
The Raven — MVP
written in big, purple letters.

I wouldn’t be the MVP for the bowl game. I’d earned that status once while at PHU and the reality was it might never happen again.

Lexi scooted next to me. “Your time will come,” she whispered in my ear as she rubbed my arm, trying to soothe the pain that apparently was visible.

“But now is my time and I screwed it up,” I grunted, clenching my teeth tightly together. The hurt was quickly transforming into anger. It took all my effort not to punch the back of the seat with my fist. Life was so unfair.

“It’s not over until it’s over,” she reminded me.

The phrase echoed over in my head. It was something the coach told us when we were losing. I think I had told her that a time or two. Inclining my head in her direction I asked, “Where did you hear that from?”

“A really great football player.” She winked.

I smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Steve opened my door and we got out. Mr. Marshall stepped out of the SUV, adjusting his suspenders over his fat stomach. His reptile covered boots peeked from under the hem of his pants, giving him that typical Texas attorney look.

Steve helped him into his dark gray suit jacket and then handed him a bowtie. “Don’t forget this.”

“Oh yeah, hate those damn neck chokers.” The attorney fastened the top button on his white dress shirt and clipped on the striped bowtie. Pulling a handkerchief out his pocket, he wiped the sweat from his face before placing a black cowboy hat over his balding head. Steve handed him a bottle of cologne and he sprayed it all over himself. Then he took a swig from a bottle of mouthwash and swished it in his mouth before spitting. Must be nice to have that kind of assistance before starting work. But I guess when you’re rollin’ in money you can do whatever you want.

He grabbed his leather briefcase from the front seat and shut the door. “Alright, let’s go.”

Steve handed us our media badges and we followed him and Mr. Marshall into the stadium.

It didn’t take long for the media and fans to spot us. A journalist with short red hair and a cameraman wearing a
News 3
hat quickly made their way in our direction. Mr. Marshall immediately held up his hand. “Save your questions for inside, folks.”

“Are you representing Raven Davenport?” The journalist ignored his request, but Mr. Marshall kept walking, not responding to her question. Refusing to give up, she turned to me. “Is it true that you won’t be playing in the bowl?”

The question shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it struck a nerve with me. Giving her a polite smile, I said, “No comment.”

“Hospital reports indicate you were hospitalized for alcohol poisoning and drug usage.” She held her phone in front of me, ready for my response. I kept my mouth shut, wishing she would go away before I lost it. I’d have to answer questions like this for the media, but I needed some time alone so I could get in the right frame of mind. She caught me off guard and I didn’t like it.

Steve stopped and turned around, confronting the reporter. “You heard Mr. Marshall, save it for inside.”

“Just trying to do my job.” She shot him a flirtatious smile. But no amount of flirting was going to work. That was one thing I liked about working with Mr. Marshall. He knew exactly when and who to break the news to, and he had been on point every time.

“And I’m just doing mine.” Steve was quick to inform her. The journalist shrugged and then walked off with her cameraman.

The stadium was huge, about twice the size of PHU’s. It had that grand, luxurious feel to it. I could only dream of playing for a pro team one day, but that dream seemed to slip farther and farther away with each passing hour. I wasn’t sure how the media and fans were going to handle the news, even though I was sure they already knew the answer. Something told me the way they would respond might have an impact on PHU’s decision next week. All I could do was tell the truth, set a positive tone, and show regret and remorse for my wrong doings. Only God knew what was going to happen.

We were directed to a private office next to the Press Room. I sent Josh and Shawn a quick text, letting them know I was there. They assured me they would both be there for me, no matter what. Josh was glad I had decided to contact his uncle, and so was I. Without his help and advice, I would be stumbling my way through this whole ordeal.

For the next hour, Mr. Marshall prepped me for the press conference, making sure I felt comfortable with the statement Steve prepared, along with potential questions the media might ask. There was no easy way around this and no changing what had happened. As much as I hated the position I was in, I had very little choice.

A succession of knocks sounded at the door and Steve got up. He opened the door and Coach Anderson stood outside. I quickly got up and shook his hand. “Coach.”

“Raven. You’re looking better today.”

“I’m feeling better.”

“Good.” Coach Anderson wrapped his arm around me. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Marshall has prepped me on what to say.”

“Perfect.” The coach and Mr. Marshall shook hands. “I wish we were meeting again under different circumstances, but it is what it is.”

“I can’t disagree with that.” Mr. Marshall grabbed his hat and put it on his head.

Coach Anderson motioned toward the door. “Let’s go, son. We’ve got a room full of people.”

I took a deep breath and released it. A jackhammer was going to town in my chest and my stomach felt like I had eaten bad food. Between the pounding and nausea, I hoped I wasn’t going to hurl. Sweat collected along my brow and I wiped it away with my palm. This was worse than the last play of a losing game with fifteen seconds on the clock and the ball in our possession.

I can do this. I can do this.

Grabbing my jacket, I slipped it on and turned to Lexi. “Wish me luck.”

She reached up and kissed me on the cheek. “Always.”

Σ

Chapter 35

You’re going to go through tough times —that’s life. But I say, ‘Nothing happens to you, it happens for you.’ See the positive in negative events.

~Joel Osteen

The doors opened and the flashes went off as I followed Coach Anderson into the press conference room. Mixed emotions rolled over me and I took a deep breath. The room was jammed packed with media from every major news station and paper. I even spotted a few scouts from some of the pro teams that had been at last year’s PHU Pro Day. I was so screwed. But there was no hiding what happened.

Mr. Marshall and Steve stood off to the side and I took a seat at a table next to the podium. The media continued taking pictures, making the room seem more like a dance floor than a speaking place. Coach Anderson approached the microphone and motioned for the chattering to stop. Looking into the crowd, I could see the disappointment across several faces. I had no idea what to expect, but I had a feeling they were about to tear me a new one. With my head bowed and my hands clasped, I prayed for the right words and the ability to get them on my side.

“Thank you for coming out this evening. We are excited for being a part of the Lone Star Bowl and grateful for the opportunity. PHU had an outstanding season and the team worked hard to get to this point. The Tri-State University Eagles have a great team and are a perfect competitive match for PHU. We are ready to go out there, give it our best, and win this game. And we know we can do it.”

The coach paused and then cleared his voice. With one hand on the podium, he continued, “As you may be aware, our starting quarterback, Raven Davenport, was hospitalized over the holiday.” A string of flashes nearly blinded my vision and I had to close my eyes briefly. “Thankfully, he is okay and is expected to make a full recovery. But due to a violation of PHU’s code of conduct, and his current state of health, we have determined he will not be playing in the bowl game.”

The crowd erupted in a thunderous explosion of sighs and boos. Cameras clicked one after another and reporters talked over each other, blurting their questions. “Please, please…hold your questions.” Coach held up his hands, motioning for everyone to be quite and exercise patience. My stomach twisted and turned as my heart knocked hard against my rib cage. Sweat collected along my brow and my pits felt wet and nasty. There was no way this crowd was going to show me any grace.

The room quieted, even though I was certain their minds hadn’t. With pens pressed to pads and phones and recorders held high, they waited for coach to resume talking. These reporters had turned into information-starved vultures — all of them ready to eat me alive.