Page 38 of Forging Legacy

Brian scowls. “Do I know Fern?”

She opens her mouth, and I place a hand on her shoulder. “She’s my fucking friend, and I don’t want that guy bothering her. He wrote her name down and took her picture.”

Brian nods. “I’ll take care of it. This is what you pay me for. I thought we went over that when your dad called me about the name stuff.” Brian shakes his head, fingers flying across the screen of his phone. My Uncle Tim appears on the sidewalk with us like he could smell another opportunity to dismantle someone legally. Fern looks like she’s going to pass out.

“Hey, can we get her inside? Fern, come on, let me get you some water.” I put an arm around her shoulder, but she shakes it off, eyes glittering like she’s on the verge of tears. I nod and gesture for her to walk ahead of me and through the door into the stadium offices. We bypass the locker room and head for the elevator, Brian and Uncle Tim whispering about the gossip website, takedown notices, and defamation lawsuits.

They both seem totally casual about this situation, but I can tell that Fern is freaking out that someone is going to write about her and put her photo on the hottest celebrity gossip site around. I walk her toward the conference room, thankful there aren’t yet any team reps in here and grab a bottle of water from the bowl on the table. “Tell me what happened,” I ask, sitting in one of the chairs and bending to unlace my cleats. I’m done for the day, regardless of what the teams might still be looking for. There’s no way I could play right now, all worked up about Fern and the press.

She swallows. “I was cheering for you. He took your picture on the field and then mine and … asked me things.” She takes a big swig of water. “I tried to leave and he followed me. I thought he was going to get right onto the train with me.”

I reach for her arm and she yanks it back. I close my eyes, remembering again that while I might have solved all my shit and gotten my ducks in a row, Fern still has everything to lose if people find out she and I are involved. “My family won’t let them print anything, Fern. Okay? Do you trust that?”

She rolls her eyes. “The internet is forever, Wyatt. There’s probably already a story on TikTok.”

“There are always fucking stories about me on TikTok. Why do you think I worked so hard to change my name?”

She stiffens and I lean forward before I remember that she isn’t comfortable being touched right now. I hold up my palms. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand what happened.”

Brian pokes his head in the door and says abruptly, “Pella filed some gossip piece already, but there’s nothing there.” He shrugs. “Just says you’re the kid of soccer legends Hawk and Lucy, you’ve got a girlfriend from school, lists her name and the university.” Brian squints at his phone. “Okay, it was just updated that … aw! You guys met in math class?”

Fern turns white.

I stand up and yank Brian’s phone from him. “They have to take that down, Brian. There’s a situation.”

He frowns. “You’re supposed to tell me about situations, kid. This is how it works. You tell me about the situations, and I handle them ahead of time.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “It’s only a situation for Fern.”

Her face hardens, and she stands up. “Well, I’m so glad you see it that way. God, I can’t believe I came here.” She moves toward the door.

Brian holds up a hand, urging her to stop. “Hey, kiddo, a situation for you is still under my purview. What’s going on?”

I open my mouth to tell him that our tryst on New Year’s Eve became a huge liability for Fern’s future career, but the rest of my family appears in the doorway. Mom, Dad, Odin, Stellen, and even Birdie shove into the room, shouting that the team from Guadalajara is on their way up to the conference room with a contract for me.

Fern shoves through all of them, and I follow her into the hall, feeling ridiculous in my socks and soccer gear while my life is both falling apart and coming together. “Fern, can you just wait?”

She whips around to face me. “For what? The press to publish more about me while you’re signing? I have to figure out what I’m going to do, Wyatt. This is serious.”

“Brian is going to take care of it. This is going to be fine.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “You’re so naive if you really believe that they can help me now.” She snaps her lips together, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, they’re cold and distant. “Please don’t reach out to me or contact me apart from class. I’m so happy for you and the contract you’re about to sign. Thank you for helping me unwind. I hope you can understand why I regret ever trying to do that.”

She turns on her heel toward the stairs. I want to follow her, but I’m literally pulled back by sets of arms. My family shouts congratulations that feel hollow and empty as Fern marches away from me.

I stare at the pen in my hand that I just used to check off a major life goal. I signed Wyatt Stag Moyer on a professional soccer contract, in black ink, with a boring ass ballpoint pen covered in teeth marks. Who even knows whose mouth was gnawing this Bic.

I should feel … better. I asked my family to give me a minute alone. We’re all going out to celebrate later, but I need to calm down. I don’t need to look up when I hear a knock on the door–I know it’s my dad. I keep staring at the pen as he makes his way to the black leather seat next to me and squeezes my leg. “Hey, kid. Will you sign my jersey?”

I look over to see him holding a Guadalajara jersey. It looks way too big for him. “Where did you get that?”

He laughs. “Brian has a few things in the trunk of his Bugatti.”

I sneer at my dad. “Since when does a Bugatti have a trunk?”

Dad ruffles my hair. “Okay, smart ass. The back seat then.” Dad pulls a Sharpie from his track pants pocket. “You gonna sign it or what?”

The silky material feels smooth and cool in my hand, a tangible reminder of the dream I just achieved. I don’t hold back the grin as I scrawl my name on the back of the jersey, which Dad slips over his Forge polo, a huge smile blooming across his entire face. “I’m really proud of you, you know.” And then he sighs. “And I can see that you’re upset about the reporter.”

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