Season 1, Episode 7
Connie redid the calculations on her calculator before looking back up at the monitor and selecting her answer—a quick rush of dopamine hitting her system when it flashed correct. She reset her calculator amidst the quiet library and began reading the next problem carefully.
Next to her, Skylar was far less focused on their Pre-Calc homework and more absorbed in her phone, scrolling through Instagram and TikTok—an option Connie no longer had. A lot of things weren’t options anymore.
It wasn’t the sound from Skylar’s headphones that distracted Connie but the small pop-up at the bottom of her screen. She’d logged into her Gmail account earlier that day when they filed into the library—the only place she was allowed to go outside of school and tutoring for the next six weeks. But this email wasn’t the SHEIN order she’d been tracking. It was from Notre Dame’s admissions department.
Her heart dropped as the notification disappeared, testing her resolve not to click the tab. Notre Dame had waitlisted her over the summer, saying she might hear back in the spring after reviewing other candidates. If they were reaching out now, it couldn’t be good news—nothing had changed since they’d told her she wasn’t quite good enough.
“Dear Connie Gardner,
You are among the brightest and most promising students in our applicant pool.
Because of your highly competitive academic record, demonstrated leadership, and service to your community, we are delighted to nominate you as a semifinalist for a merit scholarship at Notre Dame. The scholarships typically provide recipients with an annual award of $25,000—for a total of $100,000 over four years—and in some cases, generous enrichment funding for projects that help you meet your academic and post-graduate goals. Scholarship recipients also receive additional benefits as part of the broader Notre Dame Scholars Program community.
To move forward in the process, you must complete the ND Scholars Program Application via the KiraTalent platform. The application consists of five video interview questions and one written response.”
Connie read the email again. And again. Each time, it felt less real. She began nudging Skylar without taking her eyes off the screen—afraid the words might vanish if she blinked.
“Bitch, you know I can’t help you with this. I barely know what the fuck’s going on in that class myself.” Skylar unplugged her headphones and turned toward Connie—then froze.
“Is that…”
“Yeah.” Connie swallowed hard.
“Like, for real, for real?” Skylar leaned in. Connie was brilliant, sure, but Notre Dame? With a scholarship? Skylar suddenly felt self-conscious about her Ball State plans.
“Oh my fucking God, Connie!” Skylar pushed those feelings aside and hugged her best friend. “You fucking did it!”
“I’m literally shaking,” Connie said, pressing a hand to her forehead before instinctively reaching for a phone that wasn’t there—another punishment from that drunken night. “Let me see your phone.”
“For what?” Skylar asked, rereading the email herself.
“I need to text Brice,” Connie said.
“Oh, okay.” Skylar picked up her phone but hesitated for a beat—scrolling quickly, typing something, then clicking on a button.
“Come on, girl,” Connie urged. “He’s not gonna believe this shit!”
...
“My Black ass would’ve been under the jail!”
“Shit, they’d probably at least give my White ass a citation,” Eric said, shaking his head as he came back with another beer, offering one to Curtis, who still held the lukewarm one he’d been nursing for an hour.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Brice said, smirking, “I definitely got lucky. They were cool about it—but the wrong cop? One trying to make a name for himself? I’d be in County with your brother.”
“You’d definitely be the pod queen,” Eric laughed. “Was it that fine-ass cop?”
“Yeah—Hilton or something,” Brice said. The night in question was more fragments than memory. “Connie was whooping that bitch’s ass, bro. I ain’t ever seen her like that.”
“My ass would be right back at Ignatius if they’d arrested you,” Curtis scoffed.
Brice glanced at his buzzing phone—another message from Connie, via Skylar—but flipped it facedown and re-lit his blunt. The moonlight spread across Eric’s backyard as the three seniors unwound after another hard practice for Eric and Curtis—and another doctor’s evaluation for Brice.
His parents had taken his keys that Monday, but by Wednesday—tired of chauffeuring him to school—they’d quietly dropped the punishment.
“You’re just looking for any excuse to go back,” Eric teased Curtis.
“Shit, I might,” Curtis said, pouring out his beer. “You think I moved from Chicago to run the damn option? I need targets, my boy. I need film. No disrespect to your brother, Brice, but I need you in that pocket.”
“We ain’t lost with Jimmy yet,” Eric shrugged. “He’s undefeated, bro. Brice gonna have to earn that spot back.”
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re scared your pass pro’s gonna get exposed in the playoffs,” Brice fired back with a grin.
“No bullshit though,” Curtis said, serious now. “You’re coming back, right?”
“Fuck yeah,” Brice said, taking another hit. “What you think this is? That shit with my brother’s cute on some Tebow shit, but we’re putting belt to ass these playoffs. I told you that when I told you to come here, didn’t I?”
...
Connie was surprised to find the alarm already disarmed when she opened the door. Her parents rarely got home this early, even when she stayed after school. She walked toward the kitchen, expecting to find her mother cooking—but instead, Hannah sat at the table beside her father, Landry, both holding hands. Across from them sat a man Connie recognized, though she couldn’t quite place him.
“Connie,” her father said, clearing his throat.
“Where were you?” her mother asked, a note of accusation beneath her calm tone.
“I was at the library,” Connie replied. “I told you this morning.”
“Hey, Connie,” the man said, standing. “I’m Officer Kavern. We met the other night.”
Connie shook his hand, her eyes flicking toward the table. It was covered in papers—printed pages with fonts too small to read—but she didn’t need to. Her stomach tightened as that night came rushing back.
“Connie,” Hannah said softly, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, “Officer Kavern was telling us about… what you spoke about with the detective that night.”
“I was drunk,” Connie said quickly. “I know I shouldn’t have been, and I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again, I swear. You can test me—”
“We’re not mad at you, honey,” Landry interrupted. “We’re just trying to figure out what happened. What really happened. We didn’t know about any of this—we thought you just got pulled over.”
Connie suddenly wished that was all it had been.
“I was just talking, okay?” she said, looking at the officer. “I was angry and lashing out and probably said horrible things just to hurt my boyfriend. We’re fine. I was literally with him today.”
“We need to know, honey,” Landry said again—his tone softer this time, thanks to Hannah’s squeeze on his hand. “If there’s anything you want to tell us, anything at all, we’re here for you.”
“There’s nothing to say, okay? I just… I don’t want this to become a thing.”
“I understand,” Officer Kavern said gently. “But guys like Brice? I know about them. I know what happens when no one speaks up—when they’re not held accountable. Boys like Brice grow up to be monsters, Connie. Real monsters.”
Damaged Petals.
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Soapy
Topic author - Posts: 12952
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42
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Captain Canada
- Posts: 5790
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Damaged Petals.
Brice is a monster ass name, I won't hold you.
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Caesar
- Chise GOAT
- Posts: 13036
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47
Damaged Petals.
If Brice Colton was Bryce Johnson, he would've been in jail a long time ago. #NotMyQB 
He done already gaslit that poor, clearly mentally ill, girl into thinking she need him even when he beating on her.
He done already gaslit that poor, clearly mentally ill, girl into thinking she need him even when he beating on her.
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redsox907
- Posts: 3141
- Joined: 01 Jun 2025, 12:40
Damaged Petals.
Tyler Perry ass shit up in this bihh
I may be critical of Caine, but at least he bout his business
I may be critical of Caine, but at least he bout his business
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Soapy
Topic author - Posts: 12952
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42
Damaged Petals.
Stall Brice out, brodies. Gotta hear both sides.
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Soapy
Topic author - Posts: 12952
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42
Damaged Petals.
Season 1, Episode 8
“So you didn’t interview my daughter?”
“We spoke,” Detective Rochester cleared his throat, unfamiliar with being on the receiving end of questions. “She was pretty out of it — I’m sure you guys know that. She said a lot of things, some of which were clearly not factual. Others were in that sort of grey area where, as a detective, I have to determine whether her current state allows her to give accurate statements.”
“We’re just looking for clarity,” Hannah said, placing a hand on her husband’s arm to calm him as his breathing intensified. “Like you said, Connie was… not herself that night, but still, that doesn’t make her a liar. She said other things that were true.”
Detective Rochester glanced at the digital clock above the door. The quick meeting he expected with the Gardners was now nearing an hour. He had assumed he’d reassure them that Connie had nothing to worry about — that there’d be no arrest record, no sign she’d even been interviewed by police. Instead, that had become the crux of their concern. They were clearly armed with the transcript of an interview that supposedly never took place, though Rochester had no way of proving it. And through the hour, they hadn’t shown their cards either.
“There were multiple inconsistencies in her story, in the allegations she’s made,” Rochester sighed. “I understand your need for a full investigation — I do — but understand what comes with that, okay? We’ll need to re-interview Connie, interview other witnesses who were there — her classmates, his classmates, her friends, his friends.”
Rochester paused, reading their faces. “You know, the crux of Connie’s allegations is that she was pregnant — and that the Coltons stole her baby, or something? We’d have to subpoena those records to prove that claim. And once we do that…”
“The Coltons didn’t steal her baby,” Landry corrected, “But that doesn’t mean the other stuff wasn’t true.”
“It doesn’t,” Rochester admitted, “But if we get those documents from the hospital and the adoption agency, they become public record. We can’t seal those anymore. I just want to make sure you understand what that means.”
Landry saw his wife’s mind beginning to turn — the life they’d built for their daughter, the choices they’d made in her best interest, all now at risk of unraveling. It was his turn to place a hand on her arm, to calm her.
“We’re not ashamed of anything,” Landry said firmly. “We did the right thing — the Christian thing. Connie’s not the one who did something wrong here, Detective. That boy is.”
...
Brice turned on his hips as the ball left his fingertips, wincing as he stretched his right shoulder. He’d thrown dozens of passes to Logan, his personal quarterback coach — far more than he had in the last few weeks combined. His shoulder was still adjusting to the ramp-up, but it was a good pain, the kind he didn’t mind. Logan tossed the ball back.
Brice mimicked getting under center on the side field next to where St. Joseph’s actual practice was underway. He went through his usual snap count, visualizing a defense in front of him before clapping the ball against his palm, dropping back, and firing another pass to Logan.
“Don’t hop!” Logan called out just as Coach Lanovoi began walking over to get a better view of his starter, recently cleared for non-contact drills.
“How’s the arm?” Lanovoi asked, watching the next few reps as the zip on Brice’s ball began to fade.
“Still getting used to it,” Brice shrugged. “Should be fine.”
“How many more throws?” Lanovoi asked.
“Fifteen or so,” Logan said, checking his watch.
“You guys need some receivers or something?” Lanovoi offered, glancing toward the practice field where Coach Butler was running a drill with the offense. “Let me get four receivers over here.”
Curtis immediately turned to jog over, but Coach Butler intervened. “I need them, Coach!”
“Send some JV guys!” Lanovoi barked back. “You don’t need all of them.”
“I need the—” Coach Butler cut himself off, realizing it was a losing battle. “Chandler, Xavier, David, and… Drew. Go to Coach.”
...
“We’re still waiting on a date for the Lacy case, but we should have something before the holidays.”
“The holidays?” Britney shook her head, leaning back in her office chair and glancing out the window of her corner office. “Who do we have on that again?”
“Caldwell,” Chuck, her longtime assistant, replied, flipping through the stack of papers in front of him. “Dalton’s second chair.”
“Let’s get something on the schedule this week with both of them,” she said, turning her attention back to the monitor. “This should’ve been an easy case.”
“Alright,” Chuck nodded. “I think that’s it for updates. Oh—almost forgot. This one’s still developing, but someone from the station reached out. Figured I’d give you visibility before it goes any further.”
“Those are always fun,” Britney said, grabbing her bag. “This isn’t going to take long, is it?”
“No, you’re good.” Chuck checked his notes. “It’s early, but high level — we’ve got an alleged victim, Gardner, accusing her boyfriend, Colton, of physical violence after they were pulled over on suspicion of DUI.”
“Tommy Colton?” Britney’s eyebrows rose as she froze mid-step.
“Uh, no. Brice Colton.”
“Hm.” Britney resumed packing her laptop.
“It’s honestly a mess,” Chuck continued. “No breathalyzer for either of them. No formal statements, just an informal interview with the alleged victim. The boyfriend was never interviewed. No pictures, no processing. It’s not even clear if she’s willing to follow through, so they’re still working through that.”
“Sounds like a real loser of a case,” Britney chuckled.
“Yeah, this is never seeing the inside of a courtroom,” Chuck agreed as they walked toward the exit.
“Let’s keep working this one,” Britney said, a smirk forming. “I’d love to catch up with my old friend Lizzy anyway.”
“So you didn’t interview my daughter?”
“We spoke,” Detective Rochester cleared his throat, unfamiliar with being on the receiving end of questions. “She was pretty out of it — I’m sure you guys know that. She said a lot of things, some of which were clearly not factual. Others were in that sort of grey area where, as a detective, I have to determine whether her current state allows her to give accurate statements.”
“We’re just looking for clarity,” Hannah said, placing a hand on her husband’s arm to calm him as his breathing intensified. “Like you said, Connie was… not herself that night, but still, that doesn’t make her a liar. She said other things that were true.”
Detective Rochester glanced at the digital clock above the door. The quick meeting he expected with the Gardners was now nearing an hour. He had assumed he’d reassure them that Connie had nothing to worry about — that there’d be no arrest record, no sign she’d even been interviewed by police. Instead, that had become the crux of their concern. They were clearly armed with the transcript of an interview that supposedly never took place, though Rochester had no way of proving it. And through the hour, they hadn’t shown their cards either.
“There were multiple inconsistencies in her story, in the allegations she’s made,” Rochester sighed. “I understand your need for a full investigation — I do — but understand what comes with that, okay? We’ll need to re-interview Connie, interview other witnesses who were there — her classmates, his classmates, her friends, his friends.”
Rochester paused, reading their faces. “You know, the crux of Connie’s allegations is that she was pregnant — and that the Coltons stole her baby, or something? We’d have to subpoena those records to prove that claim. And once we do that…”
“The Coltons didn’t steal her baby,” Landry corrected, “But that doesn’t mean the other stuff wasn’t true.”
“It doesn’t,” Rochester admitted, “But if we get those documents from the hospital and the adoption agency, they become public record. We can’t seal those anymore. I just want to make sure you understand what that means.”
Landry saw his wife’s mind beginning to turn — the life they’d built for their daughter, the choices they’d made in her best interest, all now at risk of unraveling. It was his turn to place a hand on her arm, to calm her.
“We’re not ashamed of anything,” Landry said firmly. “We did the right thing — the Christian thing. Connie’s not the one who did something wrong here, Detective. That boy is.”
...
Brice turned on his hips as the ball left his fingertips, wincing as he stretched his right shoulder. He’d thrown dozens of passes to Logan, his personal quarterback coach — far more than he had in the last few weeks combined. His shoulder was still adjusting to the ramp-up, but it was a good pain, the kind he didn’t mind. Logan tossed the ball back.
Brice mimicked getting under center on the side field next to where St. Joseph’s actual practice was underway. He went through his usual snap count, visualizing a defense in front of him before clapping the ball against his palm, dropping back, and firing another pass to Logan.
“Don’t hop!” Logan called out just as Coach Lanovoi began walking over to get a better view of his starter, recently cleared for non-contact drills.
“How’s the arm?” Lanovoi asked, watching the next few reps as the zip on Brice’s ball began to fade.
“Still getting used to it,” Brice shrugged. “Should be fine.”
“How many more throws?” Lanovoi asked.
“Fifteen or so,” Logan said, checking his watch.
“You guys need some receivers or something?” Lanovoi offered, glancing toward the practice field where Coach Butler was running a drill with the offense. “Let me get four receivers over here.”
Curtis immediately turned to jog over, but Coach Butler intervened. “I need them, Coach!”
“Send some JV guys!” Lanovoi barked back. “You don’t need all of them.”
“I need the—” Coach Butler cut himself off, realizing it was a losing battle. “Chandler, Xavier, David, and… Drew. Go to Coach.”
...
“We’re still waiting on a date for the Lacy case, but we should have something before the holidays.”
“The holidays?” Britney shook her head, leaning back in her office chair and glancing out the window of her corner office. “Who do we have on that again?”
“Caldwell,” Chuck, her longtime assistant, replied, flipping through the stack of papers in front of him. “Dalton’s second chair.”
“Let’s get something on the schedule this week with both of them,” she said, turning her attention back to the monitor. “This should’ve been an easy case.”
“Alright,” Chuck nodded. “I think that’s it for updates. Oh—almost forgot. This one’s still developing, but someone from the station reached out. Figured I’d give you visibility before it goes any further.”
“Those are always fun,” Britney said, grabbing her bag. “This isn’t going to take long, is it?”
“No, you’re good.” Chuck checked his notes. “It’s early, but high level — we’ve got an alleged victim, Gardner, accusing her boyfriend, Colton, of physical violence after they were pulled over on suspicion of DUI.”
“Tommy Colton?” Britney’s eyebrows rose as she froze mid-step.
“Uh, no. Brice Colton.”
“Hm.” Britney resumed packing her laptop.
“It’s honestly a mess,” Chuck continued. “No breathalyzer for either of them. No formal statements, just an informal interview with the alleged victim. The boyfriend was never interviewed. No pictures, no processing. It’s not even clear if she’s willing to follow through, so they’re still working through that.”
“Sounds like a real loser of a case,” Britney chuckled.
“Yeah, this is never seeing the inside of a courtroom,” Chuck agreed as they walked toward the exit.
“Let’s keep working this one,” Britney said, a smirk forming. “I’d love to catch up with my old friend Lizzy anyway.”
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Caesar
- Chise GOAT
- Posts: 13036
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47
Damaged Petals.
Boy got a whole ass quarterback coach? Never had to get it out the mud? Forcing people to put their children up for adoption???? 
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djp73
- Posts: 10764
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 13:42
Damaged Petals.
Brice got some tryhards working against him
also naming a character Landry is confusing af
also naming a character Landry is confusing af
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Soapy
Topic author - Posts: 12952
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42
Damaged Petals.
Being broke was never part of his ministry, bro
What's confusing about Landry lmao
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djp73
- Posts: 10764
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 13:42
Damaged Petals.
Caesar has a Landry