Chapter 2
Andrea
The dorm room door stuck like it always did. I jabbed my crutch against it twice before it gave way.
What I saw inside made my blood freeze.
Savannah's designer luggage sprawled across my bed like she owned the place. Her gold medal from California State Championships sat on my desk.
My trophies? Shoved into a corner like yesterday's garbage.
"Oh, you're back." Jessica didn't even look up from her laptop. "Savannah moved into your bed. Makes sense since you won't be training anymore."
The audacity of this bitch.
"Excuse me? This is my fucking room!"
"Was your room. Now it's hers. She actually has a shot at nationals."
Same shit, different day. Last time Jessica threw my stuff in trash bags while I was in surgery.
But this time, I wasn't some broken victim begging for scraps.
"Jess, you always were a backstabbing bitch. Good to know some things never change."
Jessica finally looked up, her face twisting with fake concern. "Andrea, I'm just being practical—"
"Practical?" I grabbed my framed photo from the floor – me and Tyler at state championships, all smiles and lies. "This practical enough for you?"
I hurled it at the wall. Glass shattered everywhere.
"Move Savannah's shit. Now."
"Andrea, you can't just—"
"Watch me."
Jessica shot me an eye roll but did as I asked.
My phone vibrated—it was Ryan: [Meet me in the parking lot. There's something I need to tell you.]
The parking lot ambush came exactly as I expected.
Tyler and Ryan stood under the flickering streetlight like they were auditioning for some bad cop drama.
"Andrea, please." Tyler dropped to his knees on the asphalt. "Just forgive Savannah. She's been through hell."
"Get up, Tyler. You look pathetic."
Ryan stepped forward, playing the protective big brother card. "Andrea, think about our family reputation. The Rodriguez name means something in Texas."
I studied their faces, noting how they positioned themselves.
United front. Rehearsed lines.
"Funny how you two showed up together. Plan this little intervention, did you?"
Tyler scrambled to his feet, shooting a panicked look at Ryan. "We just... we care about you."
"Care about me? Or care about your guilty consciences?"
"Savannah made a mistake," Ryan said, his voice taking on that authoritative tone he used when we were kids. "People make mistakes."
"A mistake? She destroyed my fucking knees!"
"It was an accident—"
"Bullshit!" My crutch slammed against the concrete. "You think I'm stupid? You think I don't see what's happening here?"
Tyler reached for my hand. I jerked away like he was radioactive.
"The two of you orchestrated this whole thing. You've all fallen for that bitch!"
"Andrea, that's insane," Ryan said, but his eyes were already calculating damage control.
"Is it? Then explain why you're both so desperate to protect her. Explain why you," I pointed at Tyler, "chose her side the second I woke up. Explain why you," I swung toward Ryan, "care more about some California transplant than your own sister."
The silence stretched between us like a taut wire.
Finally, Tyler spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "She needs us."
"And I don't?"
Neither of them answered.
The gymnastics facility lights were blazing when I pushed through the doors at 8 PM.
Savannah was on my balance beam, executing a perfect routine in my custom grips, using my specialized chalk mixture.
"Andrea!" Coach Sam rushed over, all nervous energy and fake smiles. "What are you doing here? You should be resting."
I pointed my crutch at Savannah like a weapon. "Why is she using my equipment?"
"Ryan thought... since you're injured... Savannah needs to prepare for nationals."
Of course he did.
Savannah dismounted with theatrical grace, her expression a masterpiece of manufactured innocence. "Andrea, I can move if you want to train..."
"Train? With these fucked up legs? How thoughtful of you, Savannah."
She flinched like I'd slapped her. Good.
"Sam, consider the Rodriguez family sponsorship officially terminated. Effective immediately."
The color drained from his face. "Andrea, you can't be serious! That's half our budget!"
"Watch me. Ryan doesn't speak for this family. I do."
Savannah's mask finally slipped. Just for a second, I caught a glimpse of pure fury before she composed herself.
"Andrea, please don't punish everyone because you're angry with me—"
"Punish? Sweet girl, this isn't punishment. This is business."
Next day, the cafeteria was packed during lunch rush. Perfect.
I positioned myself at the center table where everyone could see and hear. Tyler approached cautiously, probably thinking he could sweet-talk me into changing my mind.
Poor bastard.
"Attention everyone!" My voice cut through the chatter like a knife. "I'm officially cutting off all financial support to Tyler Brooks."
The cafeteria went dead silent.
Tyler's face went white. "Andrea, don't do this here! People are watching!"
"Good. Let them watch. Let them see what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you."
"I never asked for your money!"
The lie was so blatant I actually laughed. "Bullshit! Your NFL dreams? Your training? Your fucking existence? All bought and paid for by me!"
Students were whispering, pointing, recording. Tyler's social media was about to explode.
"We can work this out privately..."
I picked up my coffee cup, still steaming hot. "Privately? Like how you privately decided to support my attacker?"
"Andrea, don't—"
The coffee hit his face with a satisfying splash.
He stumbled backward, hot liquid dripping from his hair, his designer shirt ruined.
"There's your privacy, asshole!"
The cafeteria erupted. "Holy shit!" "Did she just dump him?" "Tyler's fucked!"
I stood up, balancing on my crutches, and addressed the crowd one final time.
"For those recording this, make sure you get my good side. And Tyler? Good luck explaining this to the NFL scouts."
My new apartment was quiet when I finally made it home that night.
No roommates. No fake friends. No backstabbing family members.
Just me and the city lights stretching out beyond my windows.
My phone buzzed with a text from Miguel: [Tyler's Dallas Cowboys evaluation got canceled. Thought you should know.]
I smiled, raising my wine glass to my reflection in the window.
Last time, Savannah made me a joke in that same cafeteria. Made me grovel while she played victim. Now Tyler knew exactly how it felt to be humiliated in front of everyone who mattered.
This was just the beginning.