31. Fallon

Fallon

"Okay, Fal, what can we do to convince Brett to let us all live here?" Cassidy asks, bouncing on the couch and looking up at the ceiling. "This is amazing ."

"Don't say that," I laugh, "he probably would let you all move in."

We're sitting in the living room. It's late—the latest I've stayed up in a long time, but it's the kind of exhaustion that turns into giddiness. The kind of night where none of us want to go to sleep, because it means the day is over.

"Joey is in the kitchen again," Randall reports, folding his long legs beneath his body and sitting on the floor. "I think he's reading the fridge manual."

"See," Cassidy says, "he loves this place! Let's move in!"

"Okay, fine," I giggle, "I guess I can talk to Brett about it."

"Fuck yeah," Randall says, "sick."

"Guys," Chloe speaks up, biting her lip and looking around at all of us. "I know this is probably just a joke, but…Joey and I can't."

"What?" Ainsley says, narrowing her eyes. "Why not?"

"We bought a house," Joey says, walking back into the living room with his hundredth glass of water for the night. "We close on it next week."

Everyone in the room is stunned into silence, and then we all erupt.

"Congratulations!"

"When the hell were you going to tell us?"

"What the fuck ?"

"Why would you do that?"

"That's amazing, guys!"

I stand up, waving my arms to get everyone's attention.

"Guys," I whisper-shout, glancing up the stairs. "The baby."

"Oh," Ainsley says, crossing her arms and whispering. "Right."

"Why are you guys buying a house ?" Randall asks, looking genuinely confused. "Our rent is so cheap."

"Well," Joey says, glancing at Chloe, then down at her belly. I put a hand to my mouth.

"Oh my god !" Cassidy whisper-shouts, running at Chloe and folding her into a hug. "Congratu lations !"

"That's amazing, guys." I say.

We all gather around them, hugging them, except for one.

Ainsley sits on the couch, her arms crossed, her face carefully blank. We've been friends for long enough that I know this is her trying-not-to-cry face.

"Oh, Ains," Cassidy says, settling in next to her. Ainsley shies away from her touch at first, but when Cassidy hugs her, they melt together. I glance at Chloe, who shakes her head at me.

"Ainsley," Chloe tries, walking toward her. "I know you can't handle another baby in that house. And maybe you could use our bedroom as a studio?"

"Everything is changing," Ainsley says, her eyes fixed firmly on the rug. "First Fallon, with the baby, and now this. Everything is just—I don't know. Falling apart."

"We're going to stay friends, Ains," Chloe promises, getting to her knees in front of Ainsley. "As far as I'm concerned, you're like an aunt now. Well—I guess you were when June came along, but I want every single one of you to be a part of my baby's life. We do."

Joey stands behind her and puts his hand on her shoulder. Like moths fluttering to a light, we all huddle around Ainsley, hugging her and smothering her until she stops crying and laughs, pushing us back.

"Okay, okay," she says, sniffling. "It's fine. I just struggle with change."

"No shit," Cassidy laughs, the only one still right next to Ainsley. "Remember when we got a new TV?"

"I still don't see what was wrong with the old one…"

We all break out into chatter, Cassidy and Ainsley talking quietly on the couch, me and Chloe talking about baby names, and Joey disappearing into the kitchen again, when Randall says, voice low.

"Shit, guys—look at this."

When I glance over at the TV, which has been muted since the Vipers game, my heart sinks at what I see there.

It's a video of Brett, a reporter talking over it.

"Breaking news out of Minneapolis tonight. NHL star Brett Ratcliffe has been arrested following an altercation with family members. We have exclusive footage from the scene. Viewer discretion is advised."

We watch as the screen fills with the clip, showing Brett being restrained by security guards. His brother stands to the side, another, older man beside him. Someone I don't recognize, but who bears a resemblance. It must be his father.

The footage is fuzzy, and the voices slightly muffled, but we can all clearly hear what's being said.

"…this is what happens when you live a lie, Brett! A fraudulent marriage ? What were you thinking?"

The news report cuts to Bryson outside the hotel building, talking into the camera as the lights flash behind him.

"We're deeply disappointed by Brett's actions today. This isn't the brother I know, but it's clear there have been some…external influences. Encouraging him to make unwise decisions."

The anchor appears back on the screen, her perfectly curled hair coiffed around her face. I stare at her, my heart beating in my throat. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

"This footage appears to show Ratcliffe physically confronting his father and brother before security intervened. Sources close to the family suggest this may be related to rumors about Ratcliffe's sudden romance and marriage to Fallon Ratcliffe—maiden name Stewart."

The picture of me and June in the mall is shown on the screen, and I feel the world start to sway around me.

"Fal?" Chloe asks, but it feels like my ears are filled with cotton. "Maybe you should sit down."

Brett got into a fight? My brain flashes back to him punching his brother in the face, and without thinking, I see every violent man my mother was ever with.

After saying June was his priority—after saying I was his priority, he went and got into a fist fight. Dragged us into it.

The realization is sudden and stark: My mother may have been terrible, and we went through all sorts of shit when I was a kid, but that was always relatively private.

Brett is a pro athlete. Any time we make a single slip-up, it's going to be like this. Televised. Scrutinized. June's face thrown up on the screen, for the entire world to see.

And there's nothing I can do to stop that.

Chloe has her hand on my shoulder, guiding me down to the couch. Cassidy is telling me to take a deep breath. The TV continues in the background.

"Minneapolis Police have confirmed that Ratcliffe is in custody and charges are pending. The NHL and the Vipers organization have yet to comment on this developing situation. We're now joined by our sports analyst Jake Thompson. Jake, what do you make of this shocking turn of events?"

"Well, Janet, Brett Ratcliffe seemed to be on an upward trajectory regarding his impulsive nature. At the start of his career, he was quickly known as the rookie who stunted the Vipers season by breaking his leg in a waterski accident just before opening night. But this season was different for Ratcliffe—he was pulling big numbers, and there only seemed to be one change. Whispers about his personal life and a sudden marriage have been circulating, but with the improvement to his game, there wasn't much to complain about."

They play the clip again, in which Brett lunges for his brother, punching him in the face.

"But with the verbal speculation over Ratcliffe's marriage in this video, everything is up in the air. Some have suggested it might be related to contract negotiations or even legal issues. But until now, it's all been unsubstantiated rumors."

"How might this affect the Viper's shot at the Stanley Cup?"

"It's hard to say at this point, but it's certainly not good news for the team. Ratcliffe is a key player, and depending on how this plays out, the Vipers might be facing some tough decisions. There were rumors about a trade at the beginning of the season, and one can only think that this might be the nail in the coffin for Ratcliffe's time as a Viper."

"Thank you, Jake. We will continue to follow this story as it develops. In other news—"

Randall hits the button on the TV, turning it off with a sudden finality. June and I have been blasted on national television . And if I stay with Brett, and he continues to do stuff like this, June and I will be dragged through the mud right alongside him.

There's nothing I can do about it, except take June out of the situation, altogether.

"Guys," I say, weak, my hand on Chloe's arm. I look up at her, my heart breaking to a million pieces in my chest. "I need you to help me pack my things."