Chapter 2 - Two Truths And a Lie

ASYA

How I managed to drag my feet away from that scene, I didn't know. All I knew was that somehow, I was on the road, and then I was at home. My heart felt like it was being pulled out of my chest and being shoved back inside, over and over again.

I locked my bedroom door, collapsed onto the floor, and let the first wave of tears tear through me. The house was dead quiet since my aunt and uncle were still at the post-game VIP dinner. I was entirely alone in the dark.

My phone buzzed relentlessly in the pocket of my jeans. A rhythmic vibration against my thigh that seemed to be mocking my breaking heart.

Maya: Asya, where are you? The coach is looking for you!

Chloe: Hey, everyone’s at the lounge. You’re missing the champagne toast!

Sara: Um, did you really do it? What's going on, Asya?

Sara's message caught my attention the most, but as I stared at the screen, I noticed Clarissa typing in our group chat, then she stopped. I was tempted to ask Sara what she meant by the question, but a part of me didn't want to go through any more pain.

A sudden harsh sob ripping from my throat. I shut my eyes. I didn't reply to anyone. Instead, I powered the phone down, tossing it across the room where it slid beneath the bed, burying its light. I cried until my throat was raw, until my chest felt entirely hollowed out, finally drifting into a heavy, dreamless sleep on the hardwood floor.

Two days passed in a blur of gray shadows and stale air. I barely ate, the thought of food turning my stomach into knots, but by the third morning, the sheer walls of my bedroom felt like a coffin. I needed to face reality. I needed to drop my classes, get my gear from the rink, and figure out how to navigate a world that had completely shattered.

The moment I stepped onto campus, the atmosphere shifted. It was too obvious to be ignored. The casual chatter of the courtyard died down as I walked past. Groups of students nudged each other, pointing and whispering behind open hands. A couple of guys from the lacrosse team smirked as I crossed the quad, one of them letting out a low, mocking whistle.

I kept my chin up, drawing on every ounce of the "Ice Queen" armor I had spent years building, but inside, my skin was crawling.

By lunch, the whisper had turned into a horrifying, definitive accusation.

"Who would have thought that she'd be interested in a man like Professor Harrison!"

I paused in my tracks and turned to face the girls. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

They shrugged. "Isn't that why you skipped the dinner? Because Julian and Clarissa caught you with Professor Harrison in an empty classroom?"

I shut my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before turning to answer. But I didn't get the words out of my mouth before a campus security officer intercepted me. "Anastasia Volkov? The Dean’s office requires your immediate presence."

The administrative building was suffocatingly quiet. When the heavy oak doors of the inner office opened, I wasn't just met by Dean Vance. Julian and Clarissa weren't there, but sitting in the corner, looking sweaty and entirely panicked, was Professor Harrison, my advanced calculus lecturer.

"Sit down, Miss Volkov," Dean Vance said, his voice flat, devoid of the warmth he usually offered the university’s star athlete.

"What is this about?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "If this is about missing practices the last two days—"

"This is significantly more severe than missed practices," the Dean interrupted, sliding a sleek silver laptop across the polished desk. He hit play.

A grainy, muffled audio file filled the room. It was the chaotic, echoing acoustics of the locker room.

“...I mean, come on, if I had to pick one faculty member, it's definitely Harrison,” my own voice echoed, clear and playful over the digital hiss. “Have you seen his arms? It's an absolutely smash.”

The audio cut out.

"It was a joke," I whispered, the blood completely rushing out of my face. "We were playing a stupid game in the locker room three weeks ago. Everyone was laughing, everyone was picking someone—"

"Professor Harrison is entangled in this mess and everything is pointing to you," Dean Vance stated, his eyes locking onto mine with absolute severity. "Coupled with this recording, which suggests explicit intent, the university is facing a massive liability. There are formal allegations that you swapped sexual favors for your recent exam grades."

"That is a lie!" I shouted, slamming my hands on the desk as I stood up. I looked at Professor Harrison. "Tell him! Tell him I’ve never even been alone in your office!"

Harrison couldn't look me in the eye. He stared at his own knees, his voice shaking. "I... I told the Dean there was nothing, Asya. But with the rumors circulating... the board is panicking."

"We summoned the other members of the team to verify the context," Dean Vance said. "And they said the same thing, all of them. That you were sober and serious when you said this. But they didn't think you really meant that."

The betrayal hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. I stumbled back against the wall. "There is no way Maya could say that! Was she coerced? I want her to say it before me! Bring her here!!"

"That's enough, Miss Volkov," Dean Vance barked, slamming a folder shut. "Pending a full, formal investigation by the board, you are officially suspended from all academic activities. Effective immediately, you are also stripped of your position and status on the women’s hockey team."

───

I walked home in a trance, the world moving in slow motion around me. When I pushed open the front door, the heavy scent of my aunt’s expensive perfume hit me instantly. They were both sitting in the living room, sipping tea, looking up as the door clicked shut.

"Anastasia?" my aunt asked, her brow furrowing as she checked her gold watch. "Why are you home so early? Don't you have training?"

"I've been suspended," I said, my voice dead, entirely empty of emotion. "I caught Julian and Clarissa having sex in school and they spun the event and said I slept with a teacher instead."

They exchanged a quick, silent look. There was no shock on their faces. Instead, a wave of relief washed over their features.

"Oh," my aunt smoothed down her skirt, her voice turning sharp. "So you finally found out about them."

I blinked, the words failing to process. "What?"

"Don't play the victim, Anastasia," my uncle sneered, leaning forward, his eyes cold and predatory. "We know how you operate. Clarissa wanted Julian first. She’s liked him since freshman year, and the moment you saw her interest, you swooped in with your 'global star' routine and seduced him away from her."

"I seduced him?" A harsh, hysterical laugh tore from my throat. "I never even liked him, he came after me!"

"As if! You’ve always been a selfish, wayward little brat. You come into our home, consume our resources, and then try to destroy our daughter’s happiness because you can’t stand not being the center of attention. You’re nothing but a cheap, manipulative slut."

“A sl— how fucking dare you?!” My vision swam with absolute rage. "I have done nothing but protect her! I have done nothing but try to make you proud!"

“Who have you made proud? Us?” my uncle mocked, a cruel, ugly chuckle escaping his lips. “How come you never mentioned us at all your awards then? With your tragic little backstory...Your father was a failure who couldn't even keep a car on the road, and you're turning out exactly like him. Broken, addicted to drama. And a stain on this family."

My aunt nodded in support. "And you know what? We can't have you here tarnishing what's left of our family's image. So go in there, pack every shit that you own and get the fuck out of our house!"