Chapter 3 - HER FATHER ALREADY KNEW ABOUT THE ACCOUNT
Eric Miller arrived thirty-five minutes later.
Work boots.
Dark gray contractor shirt.
Dust still on one sleeve.
He looked at Ava first.
Then at Tracy.
Not the phone.
Good.
“What happened?”
Ava sat in the athletic director's conference room with a paper cup of water between both hands.
Tracy stood near the wall.
Coach Grant remained by the door.
Ava answered.
“She posted me crying.”
Eric's expression tightened.
Tracy cut in.
“I took it down.”
“That wasn't what she said.”
“She asked what happened.”
Eric looked at Ava.
“Okay.”
That almost made her cry again.
Not because it was profound.
Because he waited.
Ava explained.
Tryout results.
Bench.
Phone.
The post.
“Mom told me to cry again because she missed the close-up.”
Eric looked toward Tracy.
“You said that?”
Tracy crossed her arms.
“I said I wasn't recording when she first looked up.”
“That is not better.”
“I didn't stage her getting cut.”
“No one said you did.”
Yet.
Coach Grant sat down.
“I need to address something separate.”
Tracy looked at her.
Dana continued.
“Ava's cut was based on the scoring panel.”
Ava stared.
“Why are you saying that?”
“Because one of the girls showed me comments under the repost.”
Ava's stomach tightened.
“What comments?”
People were already saying the rejection must have been staged.
Some believed Tracy knew the result in advance.
Others were accusing the cheer program of collaborating for views.
Coach Grant said:
“We did not.”
Tracy lifted her chin.
“I never said you did.”
“No. But your content is now creating that implication.”
Ava looked at her mother.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
“That I got cut.”
“No.”
Coach Grant spoke.
“You knew before Ava sat on the bench.”
Tracy froze.
Eric turned.
“How?”
Ava stared at Dana.
The coach explained.
Parents of students who did not make either squad received an automated notification at 3:03 p.m.
Public roster release was 3:05.
Ava walked outside around 3:07.
Tracy's parent email received the result four minutes before Ava reached the bench.
Ava looked at her mother.
“You knew before I came out.”
Tracy said:
“Two minutes.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you were waiting with the camera.”
Tracy exhaled.
“I was already outside.”
Coach Grant shook her head.
“You moved from the main pickup area to the west doors after the email.”
Tracy stared.
“How do you know?”
“Maya saw you.”
Everyone turned.
Maya sat outside the conference room with Brooke.
Coach Grant opened the door.
“Maya?”
The girl stepped in reluctantly.
Tracy looked at her.
Maya avoided her eyes.
“You texted me.”
Ava's stomach dropped.
“What?”
Maya held out her phone.
A message from Tracy at 3:04.
Did Ava see the list yet?
Maya had replied:
I think they're telling us now.
Tracy:
If she comes out upset, which door?
Maya:
West probably.
Ava stared at her mother.
Maya's eyes filled.
“I thought she was going to comfort you.”
Ava nodded.
“I know.”
Tracy stepped forward.
“I didn't ask her to film.”
“No.”
Ava's voice was flat.
“You just used my friend to find the best place to catch me crying.”
Tracy's face tightened.
“I knew you would want me there.”
Ava looked at the phone in her hand.
“You were there.”
Then:
“You just weren't being my mom first.”
Nobody spoke.
Eric finally did.
“She's coming with me tonight.”
Tracy looked at him.
“No.”
Ava looked between them.
Her parents had been divorced for three years.
Custody was technically shared, though Ava spent most school nights with Tracy because Eric lived twenty-five minutes away.
Tracy said:
“You don't get to turn one bad judgment call into a custody change.”
Eric's jaw tightened.
“One?”
The word landed strangely.
Ava noticed.
So did Tracy.
They looked at each other.
Old information moved between them.
Ava sat straighter.
“What do you mean one?”
Eric looked away.
Wrong move.
Ava stared.
“Dad.”
Tracy spoke first.
“He's being dramatic.”
Eric looked at her.
“Don't.”
Ava's chest tightened.
“How much did Dad know about the page?”
May you like
Neither answered quickly.
That answer frightened her more than the first.
