by Len Webster
AJ gaped at him. “Umm … no! I wrote in a few essays that I assisted in Red Sox fundraisers, but no way did I write that I’m a glorified cheerleader for the team.”
“Good. I love you, Alex, but I don’t love knowing that you’re in magazines that depict you as an upcoming WAG.”
“What’s a WAG again?”
Danny rolled his eyes at her. “You’re Australian. You need to get in touch with your inner Australian. I’m appalled right now.” AJ peeled away as Danny continued. “A WAG is a wife or girlfriend of a sport’s star. In this case, you and Kyle. You were in an online article today as one of the top ten hottest up-and-coming glamour socialites.”
AJ dropped the carrot in horror. “I’m in what? And what?”
“Oh, crap,” Danny muttered as he set the tweezers down. “You didn’t know? No wonder Clara looked confused when I asked about you being on the list. She must have thought you were featured in that young minds of America list again. I thought it was being handled. Shit, I should have clarified it. It’s getting popular.”
Abandoning her carrot peeling duties, AJ rushed out of the kitchen, onto the restaurant floor, and down the hall to her mother’s office where AJ had left her bag. She pulled her mother’s office chair back and sat in it, rummaging through her bag until she found her phone. Swiping her thumb across the screen, she typed in her passcode and unlocked the phone. She opened the browser and typed in the search engine: socialite, Alexandra Parker, Boston Red Sox, and Little Miss Red Sox.
She shook her head in disbelief. The first result was the list Danny had been talking about. Underneath were articles she had read previously. They were harmless. Kyle had a dedicated PR team to make sure anything that could bring bad exposure to him was taken down. But the first article was hours old. Kyle must not know about its existence.
Pressing on the link, she waited for it to load before she scrolled down to find that she was ranked number nine. Sickness roiled through her as she read the article.
#9 - Alexandra Parker.
Team: The Boston Red Sox.
Known to many of the Boston Strong as Little Miss Red Sox, Alexandra, or Alex to those close to her, is highly regarded as a rose among the many thorns of the Red Sox fans. A beauty with brunette hair and sharp emerald eyes, it’s not hard to see why the captain of the Red Sox, Kyle Gilmore, is desperately counting the days until she becomes legal.
That’s right.
Rumor and speculation around Boston are that Kyle is waiting until Alex turns the big—and we must remind you, LEGAL—eighteen before he can publicly make his move. Or, if the gossip is true, to publicly announce their relationship.
Beautiful and smart, Alex is regarded as one of the bright future minds of the science community. So Kyle has a lot to compete with, considering she is a senior and about to go to college. But come on, no college frat boy is gonna compete against the captain of the Red Sox. Though with how hot Alex is, we wonder if she’s even that smart or if her public image is just a fabrication.
All we know is that Alex is hot, almost legal, rich, and definitely one to watch out for when she turns eighteen because the men of Boston—Kyle Gilmore included—would wanna avoid jail time to get a taste of her innocence.
I mean, look at this image of her licking an ice-cream cone during a hot summer’s day:
[image_01]
And her in a bikini:
[image_02]
And for every red-blooded Red Sox baseball fan/male out there, her in a Red Sox jersey in tiny shorts:
[image_03]
[image_04]
[image_05]
Fuck.
I mean, why wait, right?
Why not just take her now? Are we right?
She’s almost eighteen, after all.
How Kyle has waited THIS long, we don’t know.
We’re uncomfortable in the downstairs department just thinking about her.
Kyle, we sympathize with you.
AJ’s jaw hung low in shock and disgust. No sane journalist would assume she would be a Boston socialite, let alone write such disgusting things. Whoever wrote that article had written such revolting things and tainted her relationship with Kyle. AJ was going to be a scientist; she had no intentions of ever being in the spotlight. She didn’t want to be photographed. She just wanted to support Kyle. Now, society would view her in ways she never wanted to be seen.
As a piece of meat rather than a person.
Her intelligence was a joke to them.
Her age was nothing but a number.
They wrote that men should just take her.
Without consent.
Without regard for her being a minor.
That a man should just take her.
Bile rose up her throat.
Those photos of her were paparazzi shots.
She had been followed relentlessly.
The article was getting so many reads on the counter.
So many shares and comments.
Colleges would see it.
No college would want someone ranked number nine on a slut-shaming list at their college.
No Ivy League school would want her.
AJ scrolled down to the comments section to find a mix of opinions from the public. A few were about a New York socialite who’d made number one on the list for her model shoots and a leaked sex tape.
Red_Soxx_231: This article is disgusting. Alex Parker is a minor! You should all be ashamed. She’s just an innocent kid. #BostonStrongwithAlex
She was a hashtag.
AJ was a hashtag.
In_your_pant_es: Fuck. I’d fuck her if I were Kyle Gilmore. Take her over state lines. There’s your legal issues solved, Kyle! Tell us what she’s like when you’re done ;)
Yankees.19.56.NY: Don’t care that she’s a Red Sox lover, this is an absolute disgrace. #BostonStrongwithAlex
Qest_Matt123: If only she was eighteen.
Bill.Ohio_me: @Qest_Matt123, I hear you, buddy. She’s a fucking hot little thing.
Beckylormant2: Those who approve of this article are the worst human beings. Alex Parker is a young girl who is nothing but a fan. I actually met her at Fenway during a game, and she is one of the nicest, most honest individuals I have ever met. Do you know how many fans constantly bombard her? She’s a childhood friend of Kyle Gilmore, and fans—Red Sox fans included—treat her as if she’s a celebrity. Reality check, SHE’S NOT! She’s just a regular girl in high school who loves baseball and supports her friend. She didn’t ask to be FAMOUS.
WE made her famous and make her accountable when she should be living a life without having to look over her shoulder. She has done nothing but be kind to every Boston Red Sox fan who has approached her.
And we, as a society, should be disgusted that we’ve done this to a beautiful, smart, kind girl. In our time of need, we looked at her as a symbol of the Red Sox. It’s our responsibility to protect her, and we have failed.
As a club, we’re sorry, Alex.
As a city, Alex, we’re sorry.
As a state, we profusely apologize, Alex.
As a country, we’re sorry we didn’t let you stay innocent in the eyes of society.
#BostonStrongwithAlex
Zach.wing_: @Beckylormant2, yeah, but did you see those pictures? I wish that ice cream was my dick. If she was in college, I’d take her back to her dorm and watch her lick my cone all night. Watch my cream run down her chin—
AJ stopped reading.
It was too much.
It was disgusting that people thought so crudely of her.
There were nice, supportive comments from men and women—even from Yankees fans—but it wasn’t enough to clean her of the filth now associated with her name.
Copying the link, AJ got out of her browser and opened a text to Evan and past
ed the link.
AJ: Read this: [link]
AJ: Evan, I know you have a big game coming up, but I need you. Call me when you’re finished with practice. What if the colleges see this article? See the comments people wrote. No college would want me now. Who cares about my essays or my GPA. No one in the science community will ever take me seriously because of this article.
Then she opened a new text message to Kyle.
AJ: [link]
She didn’t include a message. Instead, she sent him the link as hot tears of anger and embarrassment slid down her cheeks. She hated that she wasted her tears, time, and emotions on a stupid article, but the article and those comments were powerful. They had the power to harm her future. Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her hands, and AJ opened the text message Evan sent her.
Evan: Where are you?
She sniffled as she replied.
AJ: My mother’s restaurant.
Evan: I’m leaving practice now. Don’t leave without me. I promise you, AJ, I will make sure they retract this article. Those sick fuckers will regret the day they messed with my best friend. Are your parents with you?
AJ: Mum went to the bakery, and Dad is at home.
Evan: Okay, I’m calling your dad now. Stay where you are. I already have my lawyer on his way to your place. Don’t move. I’m on my way. Has my brother said anything?
AJ: He hasn’t texted back. I sent him the link. God, Evan, what if Stanford reads it?
Evan: AJ, don’t worry about colleges. This article is bullshit. There is no evidence to back any of their crap. I’ll pick you up soon. Hang tight.
AJ: Thank you, Evan.
Official statement from the Boston Red Sox:
The Boston Red Sox condemns the article published by The Daily Sportstourage in which they degraded a member of the Red Sox family. Not only did The Daily Sportstourage publish non-factual information, but they also glamourized and supported rape culture. Alexandra Parker is a beloved member of the Red Sox family who has spent countless hours upholding the Boston image of faith, belief, and kindness. Our thoughts are with Alex and her family, as well as our captain, Kyle Gilmore, as they privately deal with the aftermath of such a traumatizing article.
The Boston Red Sox directors, management, players, and backroom staff would like to reiterate that “No MEANS No” and that consent matters. We do not support any disrespect to women and we champion their right to consent. We ask that fans do not continue to share the article as the matter is being dealt with by the authorities.
Official statement from the Major League Baseball:
The Major League Baseball supports the Boston Red Sox and Alexandra Parker in regards to the anti-social article published earlier today. The MLB does not support any company that encourages rape culture. This is all the MLB is willing to comment on at this current time as per instruction from the authorities who are now investigating the matter.
“The Major League’s statement is pretty short,” Evan said as he glanced from the laptop to her. It had been three hours since AJ read the article. After Evan picked her up, he drove them back to Brookline. The article started to pick up momentum, and the Boston Police Department had paid her family a visit. With a request from the officers and approval from their neighbors, access to their street was limited and patrolled to prevent the paparazzi and journalists from surrounding their house. It was proof of the extent the Boston Strong community went to protect her, and AJ appreciated their support.
But it hadn’t scaled down her father’s fury.
It also didn’t help that Kyle had gone MIA.
The MLB and the Red Sox distanced themselves from Kyle when he couldn’t be reached. It hurt AJ that he would leave her to deal with the mess. Sure, the article didn’t focus on him, but it did mention him. And even though the article had been taken down, screenshots had been made, and it was still being talked about on social media.
“It’s probably the best statement they could give at the moment without implicating themselves and bringing some sort of scandal to the Major League,” Lucas Gardwell, Evan’s lawyer, said, sitting on the wingback chair. Mr. Gardwell was not much older or taller than her father. He had jet black hair with the grayest eyes AJ had ever seen. When Evan had taken her home, they walked inside to find her father already speaking to the very lawyer who dealt with all of Evan’s legal matters when it came to living on his own. He had sought emancipation from his parents when he was sixteen, but Kyle had stepped in and given Evan advice that still stuck with him.
And that was to forget about emancipation.
Kyle offered to be his legal guardian, meaning Evan would still have a claim to his parents’ fortune accumulated through the years. Kyle already had money as a professional athlete, so his only worry was Evan’s future. And being legally emancipated threatened any future Kyle had concocted for his little brother. Plans that apparently included college, California, and AJ.
“Lucas is right,” Maxwell Sheridan, her parents’ best friend and one of AJ’s unofficial uncles, said from the laptop.
She glanced down to find Uncle Max’s hardened expression on her. It was seven in the morning back in Melbourne, and her uncle was in his usual work attire of a tailored suit, ready for work. Aunty Josie was sitting next to her husband, smiling at AJ. Maxwell and Josie Sheridan were partners of their family firm, Gordon Sheridan Lawyers, and had taken over when Max’s father had retired when AJ was six.
AJ scooted to the edge of the couch and leaned closer to the screen where she was video chatting with her aunt and uncle. “Uncle Max, this article could affect my college applications. I know that Mr. Gardwell and the police got it removed, but that doesn’t mean people haven’t read it or screenshots of it don’t still exist. There are harmless pictures of me that they’ve twisted. Pictures I didn’t even know they took of me. Are you sure they won’t republish it?”
It was Aunt Josie who spoke first. “Alexandra, it was a court-ordered sanction. They won’t republish the article without facing major consequences. You’re a minor, so your safety in the public—whether it be physical or through social media—takes priority. Although Max and I can’t do anything from here, you have our support. Legally and emotionally. Lucas knows what the next step is.”
“And what’s that?” her father asked as he pushed off the fireplace mantle and sat down next to her. “How do we protect Alexandra from this? How do we get justice for the things they wrote?”
“It’s tough, Noel,” Uncle Max said, scratching at his temple. “You can sue. In fact, as a father myself, I highly suggest you do. It’ll be costly but—”
“I don’t care about the costs,” her father growled. “This is my daughter and her image we’re talking about. I’m not going to let Kyle, these morons called journalists, the Red Sox, or the Major League affect Alexandra’s life and future.”
Her uncle smiled, understanding consuming his brown eyes. “I get it, Noel. I’d do the same thing for Emily and Callie. In fact, I’d have ended up in jail for assaulting anyone who wrote an article about my girls like that.”
AJ noticed her father tensed and glanced down to find his hand clenched in a tight ball. “If I could, trust me, Max, I would.”
“Dad,” AJ said, getting his attention. The rage that gleamed in his eyes shifted. As if the sight of her calmed him and made him realize that it didn’t just affect him but her also. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, okay?”
“Maybe your dad can’t, but I can,” Evan announced, causing her to swing her gaze to her best friend.
She shot off the couch. “You are not doing anything. You can’t get into trouble. Whoever you hurt might press charges, and that could affect your chances at a scholarship … or worse.”
Evan crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a brow at her. “Or worse?”
“Is no one listening to what they’re s
aying?” she wondered out loud. “We’re talking jail time, Evan, which is definitely worse than not getting a scholarship, you idiot.”
“Alex is right,” Lucas said.
“Of course, I’m right.” She ignored Evan rolling his eyes at her and sat back down on the couch. Taking a deep breath, she took in her parents’ best friends on the screen and hoped her face showed her seriousness. “Okay, so we sue them. We’d win, right?”
Both Uncle Max and Aunty Josie’s faces went taut. AJ knew it was their professional lawyer expressions when they were with clients. And right now, AJ was a client and not a niece to them.
“What did I miss?” her mother asked, entering the room and handing Mr. Gardwell a cup of coffee, then her father, and finally, Evan a cup of her hot chocolate he loved. AJ had passed on any beverage. The ride home with Evan had been spent reading comments about her that made her nauseated with disgust at what strangers really thought and wanted to do with her.
“We were about to give Alexandra some options,” Uncle Max answered as her mother sat next to her and took her hand.
“She’s seventeen, Max,” her mother said as if to remind him that she was a minor.
“I know, which really does play in her favor if we go ahead and sue. The issue is the First Amendment.”
AJ glanced over at Evan’s lawyer for confirmation. “Is that true, Mr. Gardwell?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. The writer of the article’s defense can be freedom of speech.”
Horror claimed her system.
Ravished it with anger and confusion as to how and why these circumstances barreled through her life.
“But he wrote that men should just take me. Do you know how appalling that is? That I have to fear for my safety because some writer told readers to take me because I’m apparently desirable. I don’t want people to believe what’s written about me in that article.”
