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“What?” Piper stared at me. The shaking left when the confusion settled in. “What do you mean, coerced?”
“Coerced means—”
“I know what coerced means.”
“You would. Nerd.” I tried to get her to smile, but her face remained stony. I shrugged. “We’ll just say I made you do it.”
Her frown deepened. “But it was my idea. I had to convince you.”
“I’ll get into a lot less trouble than you would.” I shrugged, not even really believing it. In the grand scheme of things, I had no idea how my coach would react to the idea that I committed a felony, and not one of those fun, accidental ones where a prank goes wrong, but an actual, real-life felony with real-life consequences. I didn’t know. But there was no time for speculation. We needed a plan. “Don’t say anything and let me do the talking.”
“You’re not taking the fall for this,” she argued. “We both did this. We’re both facing the consequences.”
I tapped the coach’s desk. “For literally one time, can you not argue and just accept the fact that I’m right?”
“It’s not an argument.”
“It is an argument. You’re arguing right now.”
“It’s not an argument—” Piper gave me a hard look. “Because I am in the right. So there’s nothing to argue about.”
“If I would’ve known this is how you relax, I would’ve started a fight earlier.”
“Adam, you’re such a child—”
A throat clearing stopped us. I didn’t even realize how loud we’d been snapping at each other until I glanced up and saw Coach Lawson’s stern face in the door frame. Our words died instantly. I couldn’t read the expression on his face but if I was gambling in Las Vegas, I wouldn’t put my chips on him skipping for joy.
“Russell.” He nodded to me. “Ms. Fontaine.” He nodded to her.
We shifted in our seats and waited for him to take his. Coach Lawson wasn’t someone to rush though when he set the mood for one of his police interrogations. He took his time around the room, straightening up his photo frames of the Romans, the awards we won for the season and the line of hats he earned as coach.
Piper’s foot started jiggling, a nervous twitch. I held out my hand, low enough for the desk to conceal it, and hovered it over her, midair.
Relax.
She stopped shaking a little, but I could feel the tension rolling off of her. It left me on edge.
“Can’t tell you how pleased I was to receive an email,” Coach Lawson began, not sounding very pleased at all. He sat down and took off his baseball cap, letting it fall to the desk. “An email at four in the morning that said how wonderfully the conference had gone. With pictures. And I cleared them with Bennight. As far as she can tell, they’re not photoshopped.”
Piper’s eyes flickered to mine. I could feel them but I didn’t tear my eyes off the coach.
He doesn’t know anything about the Clemenza.
There’s no goddamn way.
For the first time, I noticed the yellow manila envelope on the desk as he slid it along the wood towards him with a scraping sound. It had both of our names on it. Underneath was a single word. Pictures.
Fuck. We’re screwed.
44
Adam
Full-On Snorting Laughter
Coach Lawson raised an eyebrow. He was as bald as a Gerber baby, but his eyebrows were the stuff of legend, and when he raised one of those grizzly caterpillars at you, he meant business. “Is there something that you two…want to go ahead and tell me?”
Piper drew in a slow breath. I could feel the confession inching out of her.
