“One more chance. Your punishment won’t be that bad if you just come forward now.”
I glance around the room.
Nobody says anything.
Rowan shakes his head slowly, and then his eyes land on Callum.
Callum just ignores him.
“Callum,” Coach says.
Callum looks at me first. Then at Rowan. Then at Coach. He immediately barks out a sarcastic laugh.
“Coach,” he replies flatly.
Coach runs his hand down his face like he’s already exhausted by this conversation. “Where have you been? And my God, what happened to your face?”
“I got my ass kicked by some random guys.”
Coach doesn’t believe him. I can see it written all over his face.
Callum adds, “It’s Los Angeles, Coach. Shit happens. And I’ve been with Zeff the whole time. He’ll tell you.”
“Still telling that story?” Coach asks, then looks at me.
I nod to confirm.
Then Coach looks back at Callum. “I’m gonna need you to take a piss test right here, right now.”
Callum’s head jerks back. “Coach, I didn’t throw protein powder on the samples. Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
I look over at Rowan. His face is carefully blank, but his jaw is tight.
Callum laughs bitterly. “Why do you think I did it? You think I’m doing drugs?” He turns to Rowan. “You have something to do with this?”
Rowan just stares at him.
“Fine,” Callum says, standing up abruptly. “Get me a cup. I’ll piss right fucking here.”
He reaches for his waistband. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one motion.
His bare ass is right by my face.
“Jesus, dude,” I mutter, looking the other way.
“Pull your pants up, Brixton!” Coach barks.
Callum doesn’t listen. He swings his dick around and laughs. “You want me to take a piss in front of you? What you see is what you get, Coach.”
“Fuck, Brixton!”
Everyone grumbles and laughs, telling Callum to pull his pants up. Some guys are covering their eyes. Others are recording on their phones.
“Pull your fucking pants up!” Coach snaps. “Put the fucking phones away!”
Callum finally listens, yanking his pants back up with a grin. The guys put down their phones.
