The Beautiful Truth

// 40

At the end of the third quarter, Talyn was leading the Trojans to a predictably easy win over Arkansas. It wasn't expected to be a tight battle, but Talyn was making it look easy. I had to laugh at myself. I was annoyed that I had yet to watch him play a close game in person.

During the TV timeout, I pulled out my phone and absentmindedly checked my email. That's how I found out the story broke. Google Alerts had done the job—alerted me to the fact that the NCAA had indeed handed down sanctions against the USC football program based on allegations of recruitment violations between 2004 and 2007.

They sure didn't waste any time. Talyn had said they'd wait until after the bowl game. I guess the NCAA considered the 32-14 score after the first three quarters to mean the game was basically over, and so the story went live.

My heart sank. Even though I'd known this day would come, I guess I'd been holding out hope that something would miraculously change. At least I knew Talyn was safe, but I was anything but sure about what this would mean for him. I'd never known him to be anything less than excited to play, but I couldn't imagine how he was going to feel when he didn't have a championship to play for.

His team was that good. They'd said it all season long—with this first year under his belt, Talyn Parrish couldn't help but take USC back to the National Championship game in his second or third season. That all seemed kind of fuzzy now.

"Hey, game's on," my dad laughed, elbowing me from the seat next to mine.

I looked up at him with my forehead creased in the middle. It felt like it was becoming permanent. No other explanation needed, I handed him my phone.

I glanced at the field while he read, but I could see from the corner of my eye that he was reading it, and understood my frustration.

"Did you know about this?" he asked next to me.

I nodded once.

He laughed without humor. "That was a dumb question. He'll be OK, kid."

I shrugged. "I know. It's just not how I wanted this to go for him."

Taryn looked over at me from my other side. "What—"

My dad handed her my phone, passing it across me.

"Ah," she understood immediately after reading the headline. "He told us about this last night. It's gonna be an interesting few weeks on that campus."

I nodded. I wasn't going to be there to help, and that made me sad.

I suddenly felt like I might not get to see Talyn play again. Ever. I don't know why—it was irrational. He'd play again next season. I wasn't sure where, but he'd play. But something in my mind couldn't reconcile that, and my insides screamed with longing—I hadn't paid close enough attention during the first three quarters, and the fourth and most inconsequential quarter was going by too fast.

I strained my neck to watch him, sitting on the bench on the sidelines, and I wondered if Erin Andrews would ask him about the sanctions when she talked to him when he walked off the field. He was surprisingly good in front of the camera...although I wasn't sure why I found that surprising. He was good at everything. I supposed it was just surprising since he hadn't had much practice with it.

My mind was all over the place. I just wanted to talk to him...but he was getting on a plane back to LA after the game, and I wouldn't see him again til after Barton left for the tour. I closed my eyes briefly and let out a long sigh.

"You OK over there, Say?" my dad asked, genuinely concerned for a moment.

"Yeah. Just thinkin'," I hedged.