Page 47 of False Start

“If it’s upsetting my partner, it’s not dumb.” Which is exactly what I would have said to Derek. I shook my head. “Alright, it might be dumb, but since I’m the only person around and you’re stuck with me for three more days, you sort of have to spill.”

The long silence that followed made it clear that Trent didn’t have to do jack.

“Do you know about Breaking the Breakers?”

I turned down the beef index, inhaling and preparing myself for a flat out lie. “Breaking the Breakers?”

“It’s a gossip site.” He studied my face. “That you’re clearly aware of.”

“I may have met the account owner a time or two.” More than a time or two. Dozens. The Norwalk social scene was surprisingly small, and Poppy DeRosiers and Derek got on like a house on fire.

“Please don’t tell me she’s a friend.”

“An acquaintance, but your bestie is obsessed with her.”

He tipped his head back onto the headrest, closing his eyes. “Well, she has an absolute hard on for me ever since I signed with the Breakers.”

Poppy and I were soft acquaintances. Not even friends. I knew she ran a gossip site and made the bulk of her living through social media. And she was sort of hard to forget.

Poppy rocked brightly-dyed hair and an alternative grunge style of dress. She didn’t gush over football players or post stretching videos with sultry music playing underneath. Her preoccupation with the team seemed at odds with her persona.

But she also had an unnerving ability to sense drama. She easily could have segued that skill into private investigation or politics, but she seemed happy enough to eke out all the covered up late nights and backroom drama around the local area professional teams.

“Let me guess: you forget to call her back?” I gave him an exaggerated frown, and he cracked a smile.

“No, I think I would have remembered sleeping with her. Maybe one of her friends, but I didn’t even know the woman until a friend pointed her out. How the hell does she have fifty-yard-line seats?”

I shrugged. “No idea. What’d she say about you?”

My eyes wandered toward his screen, but Trent tucked away his phone before I could get a good look.

“You haven’t even done anything. Unless you snuck back out to the bar last night and made a scene.”

He shook his head. “No scene. It’s really not a big deal.”

“But you think it’s a big deal?” I probed. Downshifting the car, I pulled over to the side of the road. “Hand it over, Texas.”

Trent scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have time to waste.”

“I’m not racing the rest of the day with your cranky ass in the seat next to mine. So, let me see what she said, what’s obviouslygetting under your skin. I’ll tell you it’s ridiculous and we can both move on.”

He flipped his phone over in his hand, eyes flitting between it and me. “I think it’s better if you don’t see it.”

I tilted my head, eyebrows furrowed. “Why the hell not? If Poppy is writing shit about you, I’m the first one who wants to know.”

“It’s not just about me.”

A cold, sinking feeling nestled in my gut, but I held out my hand until he passed the phone over.

TRENT VOGT ON THE RUN?

It’s the off-season which normally means a lull in gossip, but Trent Vogt sightings have reached an all-time high this off season and not in the usual spots. Vogt has forsaken the Norwalk late night community, and the local bars and nightclubs are all the worse for it.

Instead, the charming wide receiver is spending his time at yoga classes, kickball games, and now a car rally?

Vogt took off with a mystery brunette two days ago in a beat-up Mercury Cougar to compete in an offbeat car rally. Sure, he’s staying out of trouble…for now. But how long will that last?

We followed him through last season’s blow up: the clubs, the bottle service, the carousel of model girlfriends, and the sideline blow-ups. Is Vogt turning a new leaf, or is this off-season a temporary pause in a downward spiral? Time will tell.

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