by J Santiago
“The NCAA has launched an investigation into some activities between an agent and you and your family.”
Tank had leaned back in his chair, shocked by the subject. Fucking Richard, he thought. In the back of his mind, his mother’s feelings and warnings from over the weekend had bounced around, pelting him with doubt and fear like a barrage of hail.
Tank realized that he hadn’t responded to Franco, and for a brief moment, he wondered if his actions were already being judged and weighed.
“That’s messed up, Coach. I haven’t spoken to an agent. I swear to you.” Tank questioned if there was some blood oath he could take to prove his innocence.
“I know, Tank. Your actions are not what I am concerned with.” Franco made sure that Tank looked him in the eyes when he said, “I know that you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Somehow, Franco’s statement made most of the anxiety shift, so it was still there but not lodged in his heart, thinking he might have let down someone he cared about.
“But,” Franco said, one of his ironic smiles playing around his mouth, “I’m not so sure I trust that Richard might not have done something stupid.”
Tank merely nodded his head. He really wanted to argue, to stand up for this person he was associated with, if only to say that he wasn’t connected just because he had the blood of a crazy person running through him. But how could he argue? Hadn’t his mother warned him that something was going to go down?
Tank looked up at Franco and knew he could trust him with what he knew.
“Look, Coach, remember signing day?” At their shared memory, they both smiled a little. “I told you that my mom had this bad feeling, and even though she never said anything to me directly then, I knew she thought something weird was going to happen. Well, when we had breakfast the other morning, she said that the agents have been blowing her up. And Richard’s been circling, talking about me signing with some dude who’s not on anyone’s good list. I guess he threatened her—nothing specific—but she’s been worried. I don’t know what that all means, but now, I’m nervous. And I wasn’t on Sunday.”
Franco sat back and had taken in what Tank had said. “Tank, this is going to get worse before it gets better. Miss Magee wants to interview you today with the general counsel for the university.”
Tank eyes widened.
“They are also interviewing Chantel. I think they are talking to her this afternoon. Let Chantel tell them. She’s the one who’s been dealing with Richard. What she’s said to you is not your story to tell. You need to just answer their questions.”
So, he had. He’d answered every question they threw at him. The thing was though it was a short interview because he answered most of the questions with, “No.” He hadn’t spoken to any agents and hadn’t received anything from any agent. His car was in his mother’s name, he hadn’t had access to more money recently, he hadn’t met or associated with anyone whom he didn’t know before, he hadn’t even determined if he was staying for his senior year or not. Yes, he’d gotten text messages and Facebook messages by the thousands, but he’d only responded to those people he knew.
When he got up to leave the conference room where the interview was being held, he felt pretty good. But then Miss Magee stopped him before he reached the door.
“Tank, I know you are worried about playing this weekend. We are going to try to get as much information as possible so that we can get an answer for you and Franco about whether or not you can play. I’ll do everything I can to get you on the field this weekend.”
Tank’s shock must have shown on his face because Miss Magee’s eyes narrowed.
“Franco didn’t mention that, I guess?”
“No, ma’am.” Tank tried to be as respectful as possible, but what he really wanted to do was break something.
She took a deep breath. “We have to make sure that we are protecting the university and the program. If we don’t…” She paused, as if she wasn’t really sure she wanted to put whatever it was she was thinking out in the open. “If we don’t have enough information, then we will have to withhold you from the game on Saturday.”
Then, that respect his mother had beaten into him rose up in his throat like bile. “Yes, ma’am,” he returned.
He calmly walked out of the room and headed straight for Franco. As he relayed his conversation with Miss Magee to Franco, he watched his coach get angry.
“Look,” Franco explained, “you are going to have enough to think about and deal with over the next couple of days. Let me worry about the politics of all of this. Okay?”
Tank nodded, as a good portion of his confidence drained away. If Franco was worried about getting him on the field this weekend, things were starting to look a whole lot worse.
When he had left Franco’s office, part of him had wanted to check out for the day, to just not show up anywhere—not classes, not meetings, not practice. He had wanted to wallow a little bit and take a hiatus from the shitstorm brewing around him. But the thought of leaving his teammates to fend for themselves for the day didn’t work for him. Plus, this time, if he dropped off the radar for forty-eight hours, everyone would think he was guilty.
So, he went about his day. He attended classes and went to team meetings and practice, as if his world wasn’t somehow crashing in around him. And practice helped. Every one of his teammates and coaches had done something to show him that they believed in him—tapping him on the helmet, looking him in the eyes, throwing him a fist bump. It was all the little ways men in pads could show their team captain that they didn’t doubt him.
His departure from the field after practice sustained him for a while. But then TV, Twitter, and the Internet intruded and reminded him that, while those people around him believed in him, the rest of the country had started to doubt. When that reality kicked in, he found himself making his way to the weight room to pound out some of the mad that was starting to settle in around him.
Tank tapped his phone, looking for the time and quickly surveying the waiting text messages. Here, in the solace of the weight room, with its weak light and thumping music, Tank could admit to himself that he was looking for a message from Amber, was waiting for some indication that she was worried about him, some lifeline to hold on to, while the storm raged around him.
But there was nothing.
Thirty-One
Amber had been silently livid for the last couple of days. After her cathartic discussion with Franco on Sunday, she’d been looking forward to seeing Tank, because Franco has sewn some healing stitches in the holes in her heart. She was ready to move forward. Then, Tank had dressed himself up in his ego, and she hadn’t known how to rip it off of him. She didn’t really want to care that he had been a complete asshole, but she so completely did. Shaking it off, she entered the Bear’s Dean for her shift, happy to have something to occupy her mind and hands.
“What’s going on?” Keira said to Amber as soon as she entered the bar.
Amber shook her head, not knowing what she was talking about. “Huh?”
“Tank?” Keira said, dropping her voice.
Amber shook her head, frowning. “I don’t know. I pissed him off on Sunday morning. Then, we got into a fight Sunday night, and he hasn’t been in touch since.”
Keira scrutinized her. “What? Well, that sucks. What happened?”
“I got freaked out when he asked me to have breakfast with his mom. Then, he went all, I am Tank Howard; hear me roar, on me. I haven’t talked to him to know exactly what’s going on.” She shrugged her shoulders, disguising her hurt.
“Have you not watched the news today?”
“No. Why?”
“It’s all over ESPN.”
“What?”
“Something about the NCAA and a letter of inquiry and Tank being investigated.”
Amber’s heart dropped. “Investigated for what?”
“Something about an agent. I thought you’d know.” Keira looked a little bit sorry that she’d ma
de the assumption that Amber would know what was going on.
“I don’t know shit,” Amber replied.
She watched the television, looking for the telltale lead. It didn’t take long to scroll, just following the NCAA BCS rankings, NHL scores, and NBA scores. Seeing it live, in print, she felt all the horror that her father and Tank must be experiencing. The fact that neither one of them had reached out to her left her feeling adrift, useless, and shut out.
THE NCAA IS INVESTIGATING ALLEGATIONS OF THE RECEIPT OF EXTRA BENEFITS INVOLVING HEISMAN CANDIDATE TANK HOWARD. SOURCES TELL ESPN THE NCAA SENT A LETTER OF INQUIRY TO KENSINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY PRESIDENT MICHAEL HOLDIMAN LATE TODAY.
When it ran across the ticker, everything inside her flickered with indecision. He’d been a complete asshole to her on Sunday night. She’d meant what she said. She totally got it. She’d gotten why he was hurt and mad and all the stuff in between. She probably would have even forgiven the ho who had been astride him when she walked into his apartment.
Part of Amber, the hardened cynical girl who was all beat up and scarred, wanted to wait him out. Because she should wait him out. But the girl who’d bared her soul to him a week ago wanted to jump out from behind the bar and run as fast as she could to his side. She wanted to be there for him, to wrap him up in her, the way he’d engulfed her the other night.
“Fuck, Keira, I have no idea what to do. He was such an asshole the other night that I want to let him stew in whatever is happening. I mean, the whole Karma-is-a-bitch theory,” Amber told Keira when she’d returned from bussing some empty tables. “But, holy shit, this is beyond big, and his head has to be spinning.”
Keira just kind of shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what happened the other night.”
Amber quickly related the story. She saw Keira cringe at the image of Tank with the girl on top of him. As she watched Keira’s reactions, she remembered why she’d kept so much of her relationship with Rowdy to herself. Sometimes, you just went through things in relationships, and you didn’t always want the people who cared about you to remember the bad stuff. So, you’d end up holding it close to your chest, protecting all the people you loved.
“So, what do I do?”
“Can I opt out?” Keira said, laughing uncomfortably.
“I really wish I were more Zen or enlightened or whatever. Instead, I’m a grudge-holding bitch.”
Keira laughed, more like herself this time. “If it were me, I’d have a hard time getting over what happened Sunday night. Does that help?”
Amber nodded. “It absolutely does. Thanks.”
“Good. I haven’t heard from Tilly tonight, but when I do, I can ask him about Tank.”
Amber nodded. “So, did Tilly tell you that we had a little discussion on Saturday night?”
Keira looked away sheepishly. “Maybe,” she said, drawing it out. “Yes, he did. I’m sorry.”
Amber shrugged. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I get it. And, actually, I don’t blame him. I kind of appreciate that he has Tank’s back.”
“That’s different.”
Amber laughed. “I guess. When I thought about what he’d said, it made a lot of sense. Kind of made my chat with Franco go a little differently.”
“You talked to Franco?” Keira asked, surprise evident in her voice.
“Yeah. It was…good.” She shrugged, as if the action could infuse the topic with the proper amount of uncertainty.
“So, are you and Franco on speaking terms now?”
“I’m not sure. You know he’s like a ghost during the season. So, even though Sunday afternoon went well, I haven’t seen him since.”
“Maybe you can ask Franco,” Keira suggested.
Amber weighed the option, deciding if she could actually talk to Franco about this. What would that be like? At least she would be able to find out what was happening without having to break down and actually check on Tank.
Keira continued to eye her.
“Maybe,” she conceded.
But, as the night wore on, Amber felt the idea taking root in her head. And, when she completed her shift, she found herself driving to the athletic department in search of her father.
When Franco had coached at State, even though Amber hadn’t lived with him, she spent enough time there to know all the staff and basically walk wherever she wanted in the building. During Franco’s tenure at Kensington State, Amber had been gone. And, when she’d returned, she’d been all dinged up and damaged. So, while she knew her way around, the staff, security guard included, didn’t know her. Of course, she didn’t think about that until she pulled into the parking lot and tried to enter the locked doors.
Leaning heavily against the wall next to the door, she tried to come up with a plan. She really didn’t want Franco to know she was here until she was right in front of him. For whatever reason, she thought he’d send her away or ask her to wait until they got home. She wasn’t in the mood to wait. So, she banged on the door.
As the security guard approached, she slid the right side of her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t against invoking the sympathy card when needed.
“Hi,” she said shyly when the door was opened. She saw the guard’s gaze lock on her neck, and she attempted not to smile. “I know we haven’t met, but I’m Amber Franco. My dad is Coach Franco, and I’m supposed to meet him here.”
He studied her, and then his face broke into a big smile. “Of course. You probably don’t remember me, but I go to church with your grandparents. Ed Wells,” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Come on in. I bet Coach will be excited to have a visitor, especially after today.”
Amber chatted with him while she walked toward the elevator. Once the doors closed, she felt her nerves jump. She couldn’t really remember the last time she’d initiated a conversation with her father. It seemed monumental that she was about to do it now, but she was nervous about how she’d be received. Oftentimes, she’d forget how easy their relationship had been in the past, how close they had been. And even though she wanted to blame Rowdy for coming between them, she knew that she was the one who’d wreaked havoc on what was probably the most important relationship in her life. Wasn’t it just two days ago when she’d been wondering what they would say to hurt each other at her grandmother’s?
She left the elevator and made her way down the hall to the football offices. Entering the reception area, she paused, not knowing which way to go. She heard voices coming from one of the offices and headed in that direction. She didn’t need the sign to know which was his office. His voice carried down the hall, directing her where to go. The door was slightly ajar, but she heard him speaking in deliberate tones, as if he were controlling some emotion. It was such a familiar tone, the only one she’d heard over the last couple of years. Not wanting to appear as if she were eavesdropping, she gently knocked on the door.
She heard the deliberate pause, as if everyone in the office were trying to ascertain who was outside, before a woman with blonde hair opened the door.
They both seemed to study each other before the woman spoke, “It’s Amber, right?” She extended her hand.
“Yes,” she responded as they shook hands.
“I’m Molly. Come on in.”
“Uh, I don’t mean to interrupt—”
“Amber?” her father said as the door opened more.
Franco came from around his desk. She took in his appearance and noticed the tired lines around his eyes, his rumbled shirt, and finger-tousled hair. He genuinely smiled at her before the worry claimed his expression.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he gestured for her to enter.
Amber noted that the blonde woman stayed.
“Yeah. I’m sorry to just show up, but I needed to talk to you.” She left it at that.
She wasn’t going to throw Tank’s name out there with a stranger in the room, but she tried to communicate silently to Franco. Unfortunately, it seemed as though their telepathy ha
d died under the weight of their neglect.
“Franco, we can finish this tomorrow. It’s late anyway.”
Amber watched as the indecision played across his face. Then, he looked at the woman with something different than Amber was used to seeing. Her eyes narrowed as Franco reached out and patted her on the shoulder before he walked around her to the woman.
“All right, Molly. I cleared my calendar, so I have all morning. When will general counsel be here?”
“Eight thirty. Nice to finally meet you, Amber.”
She nodded in acknowledgement, and Molly left them alone.
Franco turned from the door and walked back to Amber. “You here about Tank?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He scratched his head and then ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. He must have been doing that all day, based on the way his hair stood up. He gently pushed her into the chair in front of his desk and sat in the one next to it, turning it slightly so that they were almost facing each other.
“There’s not a whole lot I can tell you,” he said apologetically, like he really wanted to talk to her about it but couldn’t.
“I mean, I figured that. Confidentiality and all that.”
He nodded.
“I just…is it going to be okay?” She felt like a child all of a sudden, needing her daddy’s assurances that everything would be all right.
“I honestly don’t know. What I know is, it all has something to do with Tank’s father. The good thing about that is, Tank hasn’t had any contact with his father since he signed his NLI almost two and a half years ago. So, we definitely have that going for us. I’m sure if you asked Tank about it, he’d tell you. He probably needs someone to talk to who has a little distance.”
“Yeah, about that…” She almost spilled her guts. “I just don’t want to bring it up and make it worse, so I thought I’d check with you first.” It hit her just then that Tank hadn’t been the only reason she was there. She’d wanted to make sure her father was okay, too. “What about you?”