My heart may as well be in my ass, pounding a thousand miles an hour with every ring.
“Hey, Trevor,” Louis greets after the fourth ring.
“Louis. I’ve got Camden Steele here,” Coach says, his tone remaining neutral. “There are some things I need to discuss with the both of you.”
Louis is silent on the other end for a moment before he states, “I assume this has something to do with the video.
Shit.
Coach’s gaze slides to me. “Not entirely.”
My stomach twists and turns on itself, churning like it’s attempting to make butter or something. Partly out of not knowing what the hell is going on, but mostly because I hate to think I’ve done somethingelseto upset him, especially with all he’s done to help me grow as a hockey player. By coming here—by playing for Leighton—I’m learning from one of the best in the game. The Reed brothers were legendary, and my talent aside, being coached by one of them is the biggest reason I have a chance at going pro next year. Hell, I think it’s the entirereason I already have Louis as an agent.
Though, just from his tone through the speaker, there’s agood chance he’s regretting it.
“All right, then. Lay it on me.”
“Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat this. We’re dangerously close to loss of eligibility here.”
The floor drops out from under me, and the only sound my mouth is capable of making is a high-pitched “What?”
“With your recent online…exposure,the school has the grounds to open an investigation for sexual misconduct. It wasn’t something they were pushing for, per se, as no one has come forward with claims of harassment, leading us to believe it was obviously a consensual, private moment that was unfortunately leaked. The problems this video causes falls more into your area, Louis. In terms of how this will impact his desirability with any professional teams.” Coach pauses, his gaze slicing to me. “The real issue in terms of your eligibility has come from learning you’re failing one of your classes.”
Double shit.
I’ve made sure to maintain the minimum 2.3 average my entire college career to prevent this very thing from happening. Then again, for the past three years, I’ve always had more than a few “friends”willing to help me out when it came to exams—be it getting a copy of the test ahead of time or swapping test booklets with someone else in the class. And while I generally don’t condone any form of cheating, it wasn’t like I was going for perfect grades; just enough to pass so I could keep playing hockey.
“Which class?” I whisper.
I think I hear Louis mutter a faint “Jesus Christ” through the phone. Meanwhile, Coach lifts his hand to his face and squeezes the bridge of his nose. And having been on this team long enough, I know that’s never a good sign.
“Did you not check your scores after midterms?”
That would be a negative, Ghost Rider.
I shake my head slowly—knowing it’s the wrong answer—before dropping my gaze to my lap and picking at the skin around my thumbnail.
To be honest, I know I’m not doing great inanyof my courses this semester. I just didn’t think it was dire. I did, however, think I’d managed to scrape together a passing grade for all my midterms.
Apparently, I was wrong.
I feel Coach’s penetrating stare locked on the top of my head, but I don’t dare look up and meet it head-on.
“Yourphilosophy class,” he finally replies.
My teeth sink into the flesh of my inner cheek, and I nod.
Philosophy 101 has been killing me this term, more so than any others. Theo and Holden both took it their senior year and said it was the easiest A they’d ever gotten, which is exactlywhyI added it to my schedule.
Of course, that wasbeforeI realized it would shine a light on my biggest weakness in school. And by the time I did, it was too late to drop the class.
Louis asks something, but I don’t hear what it is, nor Coach’s reply. All the words filling the office become fuzzy, my vision going out of focus as I process the weight of the situation. Because if I’m suspended, I can kiss the NHL goodbye. They won’t touch me after this, even with Louis at my side—though, there’s no telling if he’ll even stay there after the video leaking.
“I…” I swallow hard, looking for the words before meeting Coach’s eyes. “How long before I’m suspended?”
“That’s the question of the hour,” Louis chimes in.
Coach hums, nodding in agreement. “We’re in a deadlock between the athletic department head and the university administration. But after speaking to them and framing it as an issue that would severely impact your future in the NHL, we were able to scrape together a compromise.” Coach pins me witha look that clearly screams for me to pay close attention, and I sit up a little straighter in my seat. “Your professor is willing to allow you to make up some of the grade. You’ll do a couple extra credit assignments that need to be done before the end of the month, and she will weigh those against your midterm. Which means you’ll remain eligible to play as long as you do well with those assignments.”
