Page 67 of Trick Play

“Come in.”

Coach Hiller sat at the second chair across from Coach Weston. I glanced between them, but their expressions gave nothing away. This could be anything from a celebration to the worst kind of news.

I sat and waited in silence. I knew better than to offer anything freely in this situation.

“We received some information regarding you,” Weston began.

Great. That was nice and specific.

“We want to remind you that if there is ever anything going on, not just within the team but personally, you can come to us,” Hiller added.

This wasn’t going in a good direction, but I still wasn’t sure what they meant.

“You’ve been exhibiting concerning behavior,” Weston said with a frown.

Instantly, all the air was sucked from the room. This wasn’t a friendly check-in. They weren’t about to commend me for my grades. This was bad. Really, really bad.

But what specifically did they know? I wouldn’t admit to anything more than they brought up.

“We understand that you’re under extreme pressure, not only from classes and us, but your personal life with your own set of issues.” Hiller took over. Were they playing this bad cop and good cop? “We don’t expect you to go through everything alone. I can tell you from my own experience that life is messy and things out of your control affect you, and while that’s not fair, we know it happens. My mother died while I was in college, and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to go through, plus keeping up in my classes and playing well. I was living my worst nightmare each day, but my teammates and coaches were instrumental in getting me through that darkness until I could stand on my own again.”

I knew about his mom, but I didn’t realize he was my age when it happened. I always imagined him older. That would be horrible to have to go through. But why was he telling me this?

Oh no. Did something happen? Were my parents okay? Did they get a call during practice?

“Is my family okay?”

His eyes widened. “Oh, no. I mean, they are. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I wanted you to know that I understand what it’s like to have additional struggles besides being a student athlete,” he rushed out.

I inhaled, fighting back the urge to shake him and tell him to think through his words next time.

“We both empathize which is why we’re having this conversation rather than suspending you from the team,” Weston said.

“What?” I gasped. What had I done?

I didn’t go out and party. I didn’t do anything to break the rules. I knew my grades were fine, so what was this about?

“You know there is a zero-tolerance policy for alcohol use,” he said, and my heart stopped.

I closed my eyes as realization struck.

Shawn’s house. Needing a break. A distraction. A place to hide and turn off my brain. The drink that turned into three or more. Waking up to Kennedy.

How in the world did they find out about that?

Someone had to have told them. None of the guys that lived there would have breathed a word. That would be self-incriminating.

Reid?

Haley?

No, they wouldn’t. They knew what was at stake for me.

There was only one other person.

Kennedy.

She betrayed me. She told my coaches, knowing it would ruin everything. I thought we moved on. I thought we were past things. I thought we were friends.