Even if he wasn't half-asleep, there'd be no way from this angle Logan could've seen the stunned expression that'd landed on Wally's face at Logan's words. Nor the intense look Wally shot his former bully, current roommate, and longtime…
Chapter 3
Fowl Play
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"
Logan stayed stock-still as Coach roared at them, his round face twisted up with fury as he paced the line of embarrassed football players gathered in his office.
Lock it down,Logan told himself.Be a man. Don't show weakness. Don't act like a target. Don't give him an excuse to notice you
He'd learned that lesson long ago; on a different team, under a different coach. And though Coach Rankin wasn't Logan's father —
Just take your lumps, and he'll burn himself out. This'll be over faster if you keep quiet and wait
Logan's teammates had always joked that being the coach's kid meant Logan had it easy. Knowing they'd believe what they wanted to believe, Logan hadn't tried to argue. Hadn't told them that being the coach's son meant he'd been doing wind sprints with the varsity team since before he'd gotten his first mouth guard. That it came with weekends of extra practice instead of trips to the beach, and long nights doing monkey rolls and push-ups until he puked.
"Scratch that," Coach shouted in a voice that doubtlessly could be heard out in the locker room, despite the closed door. "Youweren'tthinking, were you? Because if any of you would-be hooligans had taken even a moment to consider it, you'd have to have realized what a monumentally stupid and disrespectful stunt that was to play on your fellow athletes."
Logan winced, before quickly smoothing it away.
Because… Yeah, okay. Coach Rankin wasn't wrong. Even as Logan had given Bennet a boost to climb through the open locker window, he'd known their plan was a bad idea. It'd just sounded so fucking funny when he'd been listening to Drummond sketch it out. Feeling like one of the team as the five of them huddled in the corner of the student union, he'd been a bit preoccupied waving at the cute girls who weredefinitelychecking out the table full of football players. And — alright, maybe he'd been showing off a little too each time they turned to their friends and giggled.
It'd felt good, being a part of something like that. Having a set mission and a goal, then seeing it through, like running a perfect play. Hadn't hurt, being the center of attention, too. Used to be, Logan had to share the glory with an entire roster of other guys. Now, as a red shirt who couldn't suit up and hit the field until after his first year, Logan didn't even have that.
So yeah — he'd jumped in Whittle's beater of an old truck, shoulder to shoulder with him and Rodriguez as they'd headed to the farm supply store without complaint. It'd been Logan holding a wiggling cardboard box on his lap as they drove to the soccer team's clubhouse after it'd closed for the night. Him too, standing on lookout as Bennet jimmied open the locker room window he'd overheard someone complaining never latched right at a party or something. And it'd been Logan passing the boxes containing the key to their prank through the window to the waiting Bennet, before climbing up and inside himself.
And when Coach had asked Logan point-blank if he'd helped release a hundred baby chicks into the soccer team's locker room, and then left them there overnight? Well, it wasn't like he could honestly answer 'No', was it? Didn't matter if the older players had talked him into it, or how excited he'd been just to be invited along with the guys.
He'd put out food and water for the chirpy little fluffballs, at least. Sure, he was an idiot, but Logan wasn't amonster.
It'd been fucking hilarious, too. From the look of the videos the team had posted to their social media feeds, the damn things had shateverywhere. Scrolling through the feeds, Logan had been flying high on the buzz of a successful prank — right up until Bennet turned rat-bastard and snitched.
"Your fellow athletes," Coach continued, stabbing the air with one finger as he talked, making sharp, choppy gestures. "Who I should not have to remind you, play for the same school as yourselves. Who wear the same damned logo on their uniforms as you. We might play different sports, but those gentlemen are as much your teammates as anyone out there in our locker room. They practice just as hard as you do, they suit up just like you do, and they leave it all on the field each and every match, same as any of you gentlemen. By disrespecting them, you've disrespected this school, and you've disrespectedme. You are all on notice until I say otherwise. You boys hear me?"
"YES, COACH!" Logan and his fellow conspirators shouted together.
"If I get word thatanyof you try something this boneheaded again, you will find yourself benched. Understand?"
"YES, COACH!"
"And before any of you go getting any more bright ideas, listen up! If even a single one of them turns out to suffer from the same sheer idiocy that you gentlemen have shown here, and gets it in their heads to retaliate? You are not only to accept it as your well-deserved comeuppance, but I better hear that you then turned your cheek with a 'Thank you, may I have another?' DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
"YES, COACH!"
"Hell, I'm getting madder by the minute just looking at your faces. I've got Saturday's game to prepare for. Get out of here and report to AC Carmelo. Pretty sure you boys have some cleaning to do."
"YES, COACH!" they responded, and relief flooded through Logan as he made for the office door with the others as ordered.
"Not you, St. James."
Shit
"You stay," Coach said as Logan's heart felt through the floor.
"Sir?"
"Close the door."
