Under His Jersey

The email sat in my inbox like a death sentence. I read it for the fifth time that day, standing on the front porch of my next baby sitting shift with my phone clutched in one hand and my bag in the other.

The words didn't change. The slots were filled. My scholarship, the one I'd spent three years building my entire application around was gone not because I wasn't good enough but because I wasn't fast enough.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and rang the doorbell, forcing my face into a bright smile. The Castellanos were paying me fifteen dollars an hour to watch Hannah, and I needed every cent. Harvard's application f*e alone was more than I could afford yet somehow, I had to come up with the actual tuition if I got in.

The debate tournament prize money was my last shot. Five thousand dollars for first place. Enough to cover applications, deposits, maybe even a semester of books if I was lucky. If we won.

If Lila's leg healed in time, if we didn't get disqualified for not having five team members at the elimination round.

Coach Dax had pulled me aside after practice yesterday, with a smile. "We've got someone joining, he just signed up today."

I remember feeling relieved. "Thank God, but who is it?"

"You'll meet him soon enough." He'd patted my shoulder. "Just... keep an open mind, Mae."

I should have known then that something was wrong.

The door swung open, and Hannah Castellano beamed up at me, her gap-toothed smile a burst of sunshine in my otherwise terrible day.

"You're here!" She threw her arms around my waist. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Han-Banana." I ruffled her dark curls, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. "What are we doing today? More Uno? Coloring?"

"Can we have ice cream?" Hannah grabbed my hand, tugging me inside. "The cookies-and-cream kind?"

"Did you finish your homework?"

"Yes! I even did my reading log." She bounced on her toes. "So can we?"

"Let me check with your brother first..."

"He's upstairs." She wrinkled her nose. "There are weird noises coming from his room."

I felt a sudden surge of dread.

"Weird... noises?"

"Yeah, like..." She made some indeterminate sound that could have been thumping or groaning or literally anything, and I really, really didn't want to know but Diego was asthmatic. What if something was wrong? What if he was having an attack and...

"Stay here," I told Hannah, already heading for the stairs. "I'm just going to check on him real quick."

I should have knocked, I really should have knocked but my brain was stuck on asthma attack and medical emergency and my hand was already turning the doorknob before I could stop myself.

The door swung open.

Diego Castellano was not having an asthma attack. He was very much not having a medical emergency. He was...

My face burned hot as I slammed the door shut so hard the frame rattled, stumbling backward into the hallway with my heart pounding against my ribs.

"Oh God," I muttered, pressing my palms to my flaming cheeks. "Oh God, what the fuck"

I practically ran back downstairs to the kitchen, yanking open the freezer and grabbing the cookies-and-cream ice cream. Maybe if I focused on Hannah, I could pretend the last two minutes hadn't happened.

Hannah was still in the living room, playing with her dolls, oblivious to my mortification.

A few minutes later, I heard footsteps down the stairs. I kept my back to the kitchen entrance, pulling bowls from the cabinet with shaking hands.

"You should learn to knock." Madison Carter's voice dripped with false sweetness. She just had to rub it in my face. She and Diego had been dating since ninth grade despite him knowing I had a huge crush on him. She was the head cheerleader and my own personal tormentor since sophomore year.

"You never know when someone might be having sex."

I set the bowls on the counter carefully, my jaw tight. Don't engage. I told myself. Don't give her that satisfaction.

"Although I guess you wouldn't know much about that, would you?" She sneered moving close until I could smell her perfume. "No wonder you're so fat. Look at how much ice cream you're holding." She scoffed.

The ice cream wasn't even for me. It was Hannah's favorite but Madison wouldn't care about that.

I turned around slowly, meeting her eyes. "The ice cream is for Hannah. You know, the child I'm being paid to take care of? Maybe you should worry less about what I'm eating and more about..."

"More about what?" She stepped forward, her voice rising. "About some nobody babysitter who can't even knock before barging into someone's room?"

"I thought Diego was having an asthma attack," I said through gritted teeth. "I was checking if he was okay."

"Sure you were." Her smile was vicious. "Or maybe you were just hoping to catch a glimpse of..."

"Madison, enough." Diego appeared in the kitchen doorway, jeans hastily pulled on, his dark hair a mess. His face was flushed, whether from embarrassment or something else, I didn't want to know.

"I'm not doing anything," she said innocently. "Just having a conversation."

"It wasn't my fault," I said, my voice stronger now. "I didn't know..."

"Of course you didn't," "Because you're too stupid to understand basic privacy..."

"I'm not stupid." The words came out harder than I intended. "And I don't have to stand here and listen to you insult me in someone else's house while I'm trying to do my job."

Her face flushed red. "What did you just say to me?"

"I said..."

Madison's hand flew up but Diego caught her wrist before it could connect with my face. "Maddie, stop."

Hannah stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, and doll clutched to her chest.

Diego's grip on Madison's wrist tightened. "Not in front of Hannah."

His voice was firm which was probably the same tone he used on the football field. He wasn't protecting me, he was protecting his little sister from seeing violence and I just happened to be in the middle of it.

Madison jerked her arm free, her chest heaving. "You're unbelievable."

"You need to leave," he said quietly.

"Fine." She scoffed then grabbed her bag from the counter, her eyes blazing. "Don't call me later."

"I won't."

She shoved past him, her shoulder hitting his hard enough to make him step back. The front door slammed so hard I felt it in my bones.

The silence that followed was so awkward.

"Hannah," Diego said, his voice softer now. "Go play upstairs for a bit, okay?"

"But I want ice cream..."

"I'll bring it up to you in ten minutes. Promise."

Hannah looked between us, then nodded slowly and headed upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpet.

Diego ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath then pulled out his phone, typing something quickly before lifting it to his ear.

"Yeah, I know," he said, turning slightly away from me.

"No, Coach made it mandatory... I don't know, man, some debate thing. He said athletes need an extracurricular for college apps." He paused. "Exactly. I figured talking would be easy. Plus, it's far away from..." He glanced at me, then looked away quickly. "Never mind. Yeah. Later."

He tossed his phone on the counter as my stomach twisted. No. He couldn't mean—

"So," I said, my voice coming out steadier than I felt. "I heard you're picking an extracurricular activity for college applications."

He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "So?"

"I never want to be in the same group as you,"

"Neither do I." He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, twisting the cap. "That's exactly the reason I chose the debate team. It's easy and far away from you."

Everything stopped.

My hands went cold. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it might break through.

"What did you say?" I whispered.

"Debate team." He took a sip of water, completely oblivious to the panic rising in my chest. "Why?"

This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening.

"I'm on the debate team," I forced each word slowly. I started pacing, my feet moving on their own while my brain tried to catch up with this nightmare. "Don't tell me you're the new addition."

His brow furrowed. "I don't know. The coach did say something about replacing a team member."

Lila. He was replacing my best friend. The person Coach had told me to "keep an open mind" about was Diego Castellano.

My Harvard money. My entire future. Was all dependent on teaching my bully how to debate in less than three weeks.

I stared at him, my mind racing, my hands trembling.

"You're on my team," I almost puked as soon as the words came out.

I watched as his expression shifted from confusion to dread. "Wait, you're..."

But I couldn't hear whatever he was about to say. The room felt too small, the walls were closing in. Five thousand dollars. Harvard. My future.

All of it now tied to Diego Castellano.