Page 74 of Hate the Game (Playing Dirty #1)

***Savannah***

Iwas borrowing Blaire’s clothes and her laptop to email Marla.

Or at least I was trying to email her. Every time I started to type I just came up blank.

I was at a loss. I didn’t know what to say or how to explain why I was going to tank my own career.

I couldn’t imagine she’d understand. It didn’t matter how many times Blaire told me I should hate the guys for what they’d done and write something that was real and honest but didn’t trash them completely.

I just couldn’t. No matter how much my stomach ached and my heart hurt, I couldn’t.

Blaire was painting across the room from me, her eyes going back and forth between me and the canvas. “What’s holding you back from emailing her?”

I sighed and tightened my ponytail. “I don’t know what to say.

I’m about to kill my career and I’m choking.

I wish Marla would just…move on from her deal with your dad so she wouldn’t be so hellbent on taking him down.

As much as it would hurt, I could write ten different articles about the guys that would be just as good as any she’s ever published.

She doesn’t want that, though. She wants blood. ”

“Why don’t you go talk to my dad?” She laughed when my eyes widened. “Come on, he’s not an actual monster. Just an asshole.”

I took a deep breath and counted to ten as I blew it out. “Maybe I should. If I can talk to him about my deal with Marla and ask him to fix things with her, maybe she’ll accept a normal article. Or maybe I should just go ahead and email my resignation to her and take the loss.”

“First of all, the men in your life are the reason your career has hit a few roadblocks. Second of all, you should lean into blaming them and find your anger. Third of all, I need you to find your fight, along with your anger. You should be kicking ass right now. You have to get out there and fight for yourself. Fight my dad, fight Marla, fight the stupid apex three bullshit, fight your own damn brothers. You can’t just roll over and give up, though.

You’re sad and it’s okay to be sad but it’s not okay to give up on yourself. ”

I closed her laptop and groaned. “Fine. Fine, I’ll be tough and fight for myself. Tomorrow.”

“Good, because I’m painting you and if you leave that makes it hard for me to paint you.” She winked at me and motioned for me to pick up the laptop again. “Just sit there and pretend you’re emailing Marla.”

I opened a new document and started making a list instead.

I needed to talk to Coach Carrington. Under that I listed all the things I could say to him about Marla.

I needed to email Marla. Under that I listed each reason I wouldn’t write a trash piece and possible responses she would give me.

When that just left me feeling even crappier I shut the laptop again and looked at Blaire.

“I think I’m losing it.” I rubbed my eyes and found myself wondering for the thousandth time if the guys had meant any of what they said.

I kept going over everything and obsessing over every single moment until I felt like my head would spin and I’d start spewing split pea soup.

“I am angry at them. I am. I think it’s hard for me to be as angry as we both want me to be, though, because I started this whole thing.

I was willing in everything we did along the way, you know?

Maybe if I wasn’t so hurt by the idea that they hadn’t meant any of the sweet things they said I’d be able to access that anger more. ”

Blaire snapped her paint palette shut and frowned.

“You and I are going out. I’ll order a car and we’re going to go out and get you drunk.

Then maybe we’ll dance. I don’t know. You need a change of pace, though.

I can’t let you stay in this room, suffering, for a second longer.

Let’s see what I have that will work for you. ”

Faced with going outside and seeing the world, I was finally able to make a decision about what I needed to do.

“No. I do need to talk to your dad. You were right. If I’m going to put on a brave face and face campus life I need to go to your dad.

I might not be able to fix anything else in my life but maybe I can save some part of my career. ”

“Oh, thank god. I said the thing about dancing and then remembered that I’m hugely pregnant and have swollen feet, ankles, and boobs.

” She fell back into her bed and sighed.

“You can do it, Vannah. Take your life by the reins and don’t let Dad give you shit.

He fucked up with Marla somehow and he needs to make it right.

If for no other reason than to help you. ”

“Blaire, he thinks I’m a sex worker sent to distract your brother.” I looked around for her hair brush. “I highly doubt he has any interest in doing anything for me.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you. I hope so. If you see my brother, kick him in the ass for me.” She pointed to her desk. “Hair brush, deodorant, and lip gloss. Do not wear Cole’s shirt across campus. If they see you, they’ll think you’re pining away for them.”

I shot her an eye roll. “I am. I am literally doing that lame thing you just described.”

“They don’t need to know that, though. Take the power back. You are woman, hear you roar. You know, all that stuff.” She yawned. “Maybe don’t listen to me because I’m exhausted and I think I’m going to take a really long nap now.”

I smiled as I watched her eyes drift shut. She could fall asleep in an instant and I was wildly jealous, especially since everything fell apart. I had been sleeping like crap and watching her dream like a sweet baby cherub all night long hadn’t been easy.

I finished getting ready and dressed in my shorts and one of her t-shirts.

It was too short and I felt like a busted can of biscuits but I wasn’t trying to impress Coach Carrington.

I just needed him to make things right with Marla.

Just one part of my life needed to be okay.

I wasn’t expecting greatness, just the ability to face my life without wanting to curl up in a ball and sob.

Leaving the dorm felt huge and I kept expecting someone to jump at me and call me stupid for daring to face the student body after I’d tried to take down their football program and their football gods.

Holding myself as rigidly as I could I walked across campus feeling like I was walking to my demise.

My feet didn’t want to go any farther but I just kept shuffling along.

I stopped outside of the same building I’d first met the guys in and just stared up at it. Funny how it looked the same when I felt so different. It seemed like it should’ve been crumbling right along with me but it wasn’t. It was standing as strong as ever.

“Bullshit.”