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"Yeah." June nodded, motioning off towards the left. "Down the hall."
"Thank you," I blurted out and ran out of the room. The bathroom was down the hall but an empty meeting room was opened next to it. I yanked open the door and flew inside, sitting against the wall.
Oh my god. I’m a mess.
I skimmed through the notecards, checking all of the notes that he’d carefully written out and more tears trickled down. Every time I thought I could push him away, there he was again.
107
Adam
Denied
After the bender, my friends cleaned me up as best as they could. The guys had even helped to straighten up my apartment. But I was listless. Lifeless.
The first email came in. A random reporter asked if I had any comment on the six-figure book deal.
That was it. It didn’t matter that I’d never been better on the field. My tackles, my assists, my time in the gym, my dedication to the team, I’d never been more on top of everything. Because I didn't have anything else to look forward to anymore.
Before I opened the door, I checked my phone again. The seconds ticked down to Piper’s presentation. The thing I promised her I’d be there for. I knew if I wasn’t busy, I’d stay on my phone the entire time. Counting down the seconds. If I left myself to my own devices, I’d walk to the presentation. Instead, I picked something to do that would take my attention off the clock.
I opened the door to Coach Lawson’s office and found him and six of our assistant coaches, arguing over a couple of papers on the desk. My coach’s eyes flashed up to mine and glanced back down before he did a double take.
"Russell?"
For the first time in my career at Marrs University, I was the one who called the meeting with Coach Lawson. And the surprise was clear on his face.
"Hey, coach." I stayed at the door. "Sorry. I can come back later."
His eyebrows furrowed. "If this is a prank—"
"It’s not a prank, sir. I just wanted to talk to you."
All of the assistant coaches turned back to look at me, silent. No one said anything. And then Coach Lawson reached up for his cap and thumped it to the desk, motioning to all the assistant coaches. "Take your exit, boys. We’ll discuss it later."
We waited until everyone filed out of the room and the door closed behind us.
"Take a seat, Russell."
I stood there for a moment, debating how to start.
"It’s Ms. Fontaine, isn’t it?" my coach asked.
No. That wasn’t why I’d walked to his office. But the question cut like another knife and I quickly took the seat, looking to talk about what I actually walked to his office for.
"Do you know the Clemenza situation, sir?" I asked.
"What?"
"The car, sir." I ran a hand through my hair, thinking back to Piper smashing in the windows. "When we went to the RA conference, and one of the residential leaders parked his car off campus, and someone smashed it."
He raised an eyebrow. "I was made aware of the situation. Yeah."
"I’m responsible for it." I took a deep breath. "At the end of the night, I went out to his cousin’s place. I still have the address on my phone. You can find it. I did it. I fucked that car up—pardon the language, sir—and I’ll need to be suspended from the team because of it."
Coach Lawson stared at me. "Russell?"
"It’s my fault. It’s all my fault."
