That garners five smiles.
“That’s great to hear,” the man in the middle says. “That’s exactly what we’re going for.”
I nod. Sweet. Maybe that earns me bonus points.
“I’m sorry,” the first woman says. “I should have made introductions. My name is Celia Boden. I’m the director of Human Resources. This is my superior, Priscilla Gore, Dean of Administration and HR. President Horus Killington. You might be familiar with Dean Gideon Cooke, Athletics. And on the end there is Jeremiah O’Donnell, Dean of Information Technologies.”
“Hi,” I say. That’s a lot of people with really big pay sitting in front of me to determine my fate.
“Let’s not drag this out,” President Killington says. “I’d love to talk to you about school and your classes, but I think we can all see how nervous you are. We have looked over the information you provided, Coach. Thank you for being so thorough.”
“Can I ask a question before we get into this?” Alka asks.
“If it’s to point out that our own provost dated a student, we’re very aware of that. We’ve even had a conversation with Provost Keller,” President Killington says.
Alka smiles. “Okay, good. Thanks.” He looks at the man on the end—IT guy. “I actually want to ask about the email and whether you’ve taken care of the student who sent it. Or is that something I’ll need to do because I don’t want him on my team?”
Dean Cooke smiles widely.
“We tracked it down easily,” the IT dean says. “Hacker, he is not. There was zero attempt to hide on Ikaika’s part.”
“Greer?” I ask in surprise. My heart sinks. I had no idea he was that angry about it. “It wasn’t Jeff?”
The IT dean glances at the president. “No. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said his name.”
“No. We have a right to know who sent it,” Alka argues. “It was an attack on both of us, and we should absolutely be made aware in case they intend any further harm.”
President Killington raises a hand. “There won’t be any threat toward either of you again. Greer Ikaika has been expelled fromthe school indefinitely. We will not tolerate that kind of behavior.”
Alka bows his head, but I’m staring at nothing. I can’t believe Greer would do that.
“Roux? Are you alright?” the lady, Celia, asks. I blink through my shock and nod. She gives me a sympathetic smile. “He was a friend,” she guesses.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say he wasn’t,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. We can move on.”
Alka’s hand squeezes mine. I’m so tense I forgot our hands were still linked. Mine are sweaty as fuck right now. Poor Alka.
“As for any other concerning behaviors on your team, you have sole discretion to deal with them as you wish,” Dean Cooke tells Alka. “You have my full support, though I do advise removing the young man in the video. That’s not the kind of representation we’d like to see among our student athletes. If you’d like to recommend further punishment, we can set up a meeting.”
“You have our full support in removing him from the team,” the HR dean whose name I already forgot reiterates. “I recommend academic probation as well.”
“Thank you,” Alka says, “but I think we’re bouncing around here. Does that mean I’m keeping my job?”
There isn’t an immediate yes, which makes my stomach drop.
“We appreciate the lengths you’ve gone to to remove yourself from a position where you have the ability to give Roux special treatment. That effort isn’t taken lightly. However, what this situation has that others do not is that Roux is your immediate subordinate,” President Killington says. “I know you’ve taken yourself out of those situations, but we can understand your team’s concern.”
“I understand,” Alka says. “Would you like me to step down?”
“No,” I say. “I’ll quit.”
“You can’t quit,” Alka says.
“Yes, I can.” I look at the president. “I quit. I’m not going to play soccer again.”
“Mr. Kipler—” Dean Cooke says just as Alka begins to argue, too.
“No, Alka. This is your career. You’ve been coaching for a decade. This is just two years out of my life, and it’snotgoing to affect my career.”
