KICK IT | JENLISA

101

Lisa

She was dealt the worst hand in life and punched back, one creative insult at a time. Fuck, the way she channelled her pain into all her charity work made my foundation look like a scam without its corruption. I thought my problems were bad, but she needed to know my truth as much as I needed hers.

Kendall saved every version of the accident article she found and covered my fridge with them as motivation through my rehab. I associated them with her and tossed them out after Kendall left for good. Like Jennie's bathroom message, I never forgot the accident words.

Houston's biggest question mark is Manoban's shoulder health. Manoban, 26, suffered a rotator cuff tear in an off-field injury. Leaving a celebration party for Warren Kim's Hall of Fame induction, Manoban, 26, was driving home with two unidentified women. Alcohol was believed to be a factor.

Kendall and my argument that night was the first time she threw our relationship in the trash, stormed out, and left me with a flask of whiskey. I remembered fragments of that evening. Neither of the two women in my car was the only girl I hit on that night – Jennie because fate loved fucking with me too much – but the two that I snapped my fingers at because of the piss poor shape that I was in.

Nancy and Mina.

Mina's pending divorce was leaked into the media, putting the strong woman in an emotionally vulnerable state, so I invited her to the party. Nancy's husband was out of town, but the two agreed to make sure that I made it home. Thanks to another drunk driver who totalled our car, Nancy instead smashed head-first into a tree.

Goosebumps pricked the skin on my forearms. A cold chill trickled down the back of my neck, raising the hairs at the base of my skull. Echoes of Nancy's screams, Mina's lower-toned yells, and my slurred cursed words, intermixed with the slam of crunched metal. Flinching on instinct, my right hand palmed the dashboard. Cracked plastic, crunched metal, and smashed glass erupted around us. The airbags exploded out of the dashboard and side windows. My right arm snapped back, followed by a sickening third pop. It echoed in my ears, embedding doubt in the back of my foggy mind. This one came from behind me as if my seat broke. Pain throbbed through my upper back, and numbness shot down my right bicep.

Nancy hid hers and Mina's identities into 'unidentified women' to protect their identities and careers from false reporting, at my expense that the incident painted me as a player and cheater. I chose the least damaging between two false rumours, 'Lisa Manoban found cheating on her girlfriend' vs. 'Lisa Manoban cheating on her girlfriend with her lawyer and publicist.'