Page 13

Can they cancel the football season? Would they cancel it?

HORNY DEVIL: They’re not going to cancel the football season.

Are you just saying that?

HORNY DEVIL: Logistically speaking, football season is a crucial economic staple for Everdale.

Oh. I guess that makes sense.

HORNY DEVIL: Do I need to go into the history of Everdale in relation to the development of Harbor Tech and its football team to ease your mind?

Maybe… I don’t know, but it makes me feel better that you know.

HORNY DEVIL: You’ll be fine, little wolf, but give me a few minutes to compile everything for you.

The remainder of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon disappeared into individual interviews. Interrogations were more like it. One by one, they pulled us into rooms and asked us some variations of the same questions. What did we know? Have we ever seen anything inappropriate? Has anyone on the staff said something suspicious? Had we noticed the coaches spending unusual amounts of time with members of the cheerleading squad?

And then someone asked me how the trauma of the situation was affecting me. I couldn’t help but scoff at that one because seriously? Finding out our old-as-hell coaches were sleeping with members of the cheerleading team wasn’t traumatizing for me. It was gross and inappropriate, but traumatizing? Mostly, I was just bored out of my mind—that and increasingly more worried about the future of football.

Honestly, I’d been completely in the dark, and from everything I could tell, so had the rest of the team. Whatever had happened, we weren’t a part of it. We were just along for the ride in the aftermath—a really boring ride with uncomfortable chairs and the same questions asked in slightly different ways.

By the time they released us back onto the field, everyone was restless.

“Did they tell you if they were going to cancel the season?” Wyatt asked in a loud whisper.

“I don’t know!” I exclaimed all over again. “Why does everyone keep asking me that question?”

“You’re the one spouting economic status facts about Everdale and football,” Jude retorted. “Since when do you know anything about that kind of shit anyway?”

“Google.” I shrugged. Technically, Google probably knew all of it. I just hadn’t been the one using Google. I couldn’t very well say Rhodes was texting me stats to help ease my mind about the state of the team. He’d started texting me sometime during the morning when I mentioned my worries about the season getting canceled. He had some damn good facts too, with actual statistics about local revenue, attendance, alum involvement, and exactly how much Everdale’s economy relied on Harbor Tech football. I’d taken all that information and given it to the team throughout the day to stave off the panic, which unfortunately meant half my teammates thought I was smarter than I was. Oops. My bad.

At least they’d stopped talking about what it’d take to transfer schools, so I considered it a win.

All our chatter came to an end—which was impressive for almost a hundred guys—when Dean Wirtz joined us. We were spread across the field and the lower bleachers in loose clusters, nobody entirely sure of what we were supposed to be doing anymore. There wasn’t exactly anyone around to tell us what to do otherwise. We just knew we couldn’t leave.

“Can everyone hear me okay?” the Dean asked into a microphone. He didn’t need a microphone. Yeah, our team was on the bigger side, but it wasn’t like we couldn’t hear him. We were the only people around. That didn’t stop him from tapping the microphone, sending a groan through the bleachers at the loud feedback. “Now, I know it’s been a day, and I’m sure this was the last thing you expected when you came in to train today.”

A murmur rolled through us. That was an understatement.

“I just want to say that personally, I appreciate how well all of you have handled today. A scandal like this is always messy, and all of you have shown impressive maturity in the face of chaos,” he complimented. I bit back my comment to keep from laughing. Impressive maturity. Sure. That’s what we were: mature. Clearly, he’d missed our dick-buddy conversations.

“What happened?” Rodney practically yelled. That was all the encouragement everyone else needed to chime in. Questions started flying from every direction, with their voices piling over one another until there was no hope of understanding a single one. At least, I couldn’t.

“Okay, okay!” The Dean motioned for them to quiet down. “There are a lot of legalities involved in this situation, which makes it difficult to discuss. What I can tell you is that the entire former staff engaged in inappropriate behaviors with several members of the cheerleading squad.”

Former staff. That phrase immediately caught my attention.

“You said former staff,” I replied loudly. “Does that mean everyone’s been fired? Does that mean trainers and everyone else too? Or just the coaching staff?”

“Only the coaching staff has been dismissed,” the Dean confirmed.

Well shit. We’d heard it from the staff all morning, but hearing the Dean confirm it made the whole thing feel a hell of a lot more real.

The field exploded as everyone started talking at once. The questions were endless. They came so quickly I could barely keep up with them, and judging by the Dean’s expression, neither could he.

“I understand! I understand!” Dean Wirtz practically shouted into the microphone. Another burst of feedback tore through the speakers, and I winced. Holy hell. The entire athletics program was imploding around us, and somehow, that microphone was still one of the most irritating parts of my day. “The season hasn’t been canceled!”

That single sentence brought about immediate silence. It came on so quickly it was impressive.