“Get this fucking kid out the back door before the cops get here. You all deserve major fucking consequences, but it should stay in house,” Griffin grunts at me.
I jerk my head at the kid. “Let’s go, man. Get the fuck out of here. That way”
“I think I bruised my ass,” he mutters, rubbing circles on it still, like that somehow trumps him getting arrested.
“You’re gonna have a lot more than that to worry about if you don’t get out of here. The cops are gonna be here any second, and I doubt you’re sober. So go!”
The mention of the cops finally has him up to jogging speed, and I watch as he and a few more stragglers from the living room exit through the back. I just hope none of the cops decides to be wise enough to block the back alley.
A moment later there’s a knock at the door and the distinctive shout of “Police. Open Up.”
* * *
The next dayI’m in coach’s office, his hands steepled and his head down. The sound of the fan above us clicking as he makes a low frustrated noise at the back of his throat.
“You’re gonna tell me you had a party, at the football house, with no other players there?”
“Other than my roommates, but again, they had to be there because they lived there.”
I’m lying my ass off. Coach knows I’m lying my ass off. But we have to do this dance because he has to be able to say he interrogated me in good conscience.
He stares at me for a long minute.
“You know this is going to be a lengthy suspension. At least a month. And Griffin is agitating for more than that. Which frankly, you’re lucky the man just has a slipped disc and not a broken spine.”
“I know, sir.”
“You can still call me coach. It’s fuckin’ serious but not so much we’re going to act like a bunch of assholes about it.” He leans back in his chair.
“Okay, coach.” I nod.
“He’s pulling the housing. Do you have somewhere to go?”
“For everyone, or just for me?”
“All of you. His wife is pissed about the 19thcentury wallpaper that got stained and says some of the wood on the stairs is irreplaceable.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. So you have somewhere?”
“I’ll find somewhere.”
He gives me a doubtful look, like he’s not sure I won’t just sleep in my car and shakes his head.
“I’ll put you up in a hotel tonight. Just keep it between us, and then you gotta find somewhere else. Get your boys to help and get your shit out today. There’s a storage place on Santa Fe that’s reasonable if you need it.”
“I don’t have that much. I think I can figure it out, but I appreciate it.”
“Losing you for the suspension is gonna fuck us out there. You’re too vital to lose.” He frowns down at the papers on his desk.
“I’m sorry, coach.”
“Fuck.” He curses and shakes his head. “You sure you don’t want to spread this blame around a bit? I know it was your birthday, but if we have to lay this all at your feet…”
“Just me, coach.”
Because if it’s more than just me, that means more players benched. Colt. Jake. Half the guys on the team were there.
