He came up behind me, dressed in loose jeans and a gray t-shirt, smelling of pinewood and sweat. His hair slicked back and wet. He reached past me and held up his badge to the wall as it turned green.

“Alright wise ass. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“I’m showing you out.”

“You couldn’t do that an hour ago?”

“There are about five more doors you’ll need the pass for and I was dealing with something.”

“What, practice?”

“Yeah—” We started down the hall of the lobby. “Listen you need to know something before you get yourself all worked up again.”

The nerve. I was never worked up. I dumped my pass in the deposit bin and signed out, then dropped the pen down and glared at him. “I wasn’t all worked up.”

“Fine, but I need to explain something…before you do whatever it was you came here to do.”

I huffed and yanked off my work badge irritably, causing it to fall to the floor.

Troy glanced down and shook his head, lifting it for me. “Okay whatever, look I’m not the one you’re—” he paused, lost in something in my badge.

“Wait. You work for Brooklyn Lines magazine?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a reporter?”

“Not…exactly.” Not unless you counted weekly reports on coffee inventory and sales on specialty drinks.

His eyes were back on mine. “What are you really after? Is it to screw up my bro—”

“What? Did I miss something in this conversation?”

“Cut the shit, Harper. You can tell whoever sent you to get the scoop on what’s going on with Troy Hartman to shove it. Because he’s coming back and he’s coming back strong.”

“Do you usually talk about yourself in third person?”

“Get lost.”

“Wow. Okay. Well that’s completely fine, it wasn’t my idea to come here today anyway.”

“Goodbye Harper and stay away from my... stadium.” He turned and walked back into the lobby, leaving me just outside the gate.

What the hell?

I stayed up staring at space way past the midnight hour that night. Trying to pinpoint the exact moment he’d turned on me. And I was talking present day—not five years ago.

There was no mistaking—I was missing something. And it was right after he’d lifted my badge.

Did he think I was after a story just because he tanked opening game? Lots of players tanked. And he wasn’t the only one on the team.

Paranoid much?

I picked up the piece of paper from my notebook. “Sorry mom, this one’s just not worth it.” I crossed it off my list and turned off my light.

5. Harper

5

“What’ll it be?” I whipped around and asked customer number forty-seven on Tuesday morning.

“Flat Americano, extra hot.”

I called the order to Nic behind me who was on top of her game as usual, whipping up four drinks simultaneously.