“You’re being very careful.”
Zaria opened her phone.
“Because everyone keeps asking me to guess.”
Then she showed the notebook.
Fourteen incidents.
Coach Bishop stopped smiling.
She forwarded copies to Assistant Principal Natalie Price.
Price interviewed Mason.
He denied hiding shoes.
Denied touching the jacket.
Denied making the meme.
Denied taping signs to Zaria’s locker.
There was not enough direct evidence to attribute most incidents to him.
He admitted calling her a snitch.
He admitted finding the jokes funny.
Assistant Principal Price issued a formal conduct warning and told him that any further deliberate harassment of Zaria could result in escalating discipline.
For almost three weeks, Mason left her alone.
Christmas break helped.
January began quietly.
Then Zaria qualified for the state wrestling tournament.
Westbrook held a winter athletics assembly for students who reached regional or state competition.
Zaria walked across the gym wearing her white-and-navy varsity jacket.
The gold W over her chest had three small pins beneath it.
Wrestling.
Track.
Academic athletics.
Students applauded.
Tanya recorded from the bleachers.
Mason sat with the basketball team.
His captain designation had just been restored under conditions.
He should have felt relieved.
Instead, he watched Zaria’s jacket.
Two days later, Parker tapped the W while she walked into Sports Leadership.
“How many sports do you need before you stop managing ours?”
Zaria slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch my jacket.”
Parker lifted both palms.
“Relax.”
Mason laughed from behind him.
The jacket became the new joke.
Whenever Zaria corrected someone during class, a basketball player pointed toward the W.
“Badge is talking.”
When Coach Bishop asked Zaria to demonstrate ankle taping, Mason whispered, “Everybody listen, Doctor Monroe is here.”
Coach Bishop heard that one.
“Mason, something to contribute?”
“No, Coach.”
“Then let her finish.”
Zaria continued the demonstration.
Mason later told friends Bishop had chosen a favorite.
The truth was Zaria would have preferred disappearing.
For almost two weeks, she stopped wearing the jacket to seventh period.
Then one morning she stood in front of her closet and became angry.
The jacket belonged to her.
Not Mason.
It represented early wrestling practices.
Track meets in cold rain.
Bruised shoulders.
Academic eligibility.
Away trips.
Weight cuts.
Tanya driving hours to tournaments.
Mason had contributed nothing to earning it.
Zaria put it on.
February made everything worse.
At the girls’ wrestling state tournament, Zaria finished third.
It was the best result a Westbrook Heights girl had ever achieved.
Tanya cried.
Coach Bishop nearly squeezed the air out of her.
Daniel texted congratulations.
Third in the state is crazy.
Zaria replied:
Crazy would’ve been first.
Daniel wrote back:
Athletes need therapy.
She laughed.
Mason never congratulated her.
A student later told Zaria he called third place “another participation trophy everybody was pretending mattered.”
Zaria added the comment to her notes.
She did nothing else.
Then Mason permanently lost the basketball captaincy.
Zaria had nothing to do with it.
During an away game, Mason received a technical foul, was benched, and cursed at an assistant coach. Coach Reed had warned the entire team that captains would face a higher standard.
The following morning, Mason’s captain status ended.
Another senior received the title.