"I don't," Logan rushed to argue, but Coach waved him off.
"Son, the first term is an adjustment for almost every Freshman. But this?" Coach waved at Logan's file. "Combined with last night's idiocy, and your performance in practice this last month — Well, it paints a picture."
"My — My performance?" Logan echoed, his face and hands tingling uncomfortably.
Coach tilted his head, looking up at Logan assessingly. "Playing at this level is a privilege. Be honest, now. Do you feel you've given the team your best these past few months?"
Hating himself, Logan glared down at his feet and shook his head no.
Coach blew out a huge breath. "Boy, you are drowning and you don't even know it, do you?"
"Sir?"
"I'll be straight with you: your team deserves better than this piss-poor showing you've been giving us this year. You aren't in high school anymore, son — they broadcast our games all over the world. If you wanna put on our uniform next season, you've got to be worthy of it. There's kids in those stands that'll be looking up to you. Now you tell me…" Coach nodded at the open file. "This the kind of man you want them to see?"
Logan swallowed, his throat thick and painful as he shook his head 'no'.
Coach sighed. "The good news is that most of this is all stuff we've seen before. You aren't the only freshman to struggle with juggling school, practice, and learning to live on his own for the first time. Hell, it's why we make you boys red shirts in the first place. It's fixable, is what I'm saying. Provided that is, you're willing to put in the effort."
"I am, Sir," Logan promised, looking Coach in the eye.
"Glad to hear it," Coach said, nodding sharply. "You've got heart, son, but heart will only take you so far. Get your grades up. Work your butt off out on that field. And I'm warning you now — this prank shit's gotta go. Thank God none of you boys decided to pull this on another school, or I'd have had to set an example and cut all of you from the program. Even Drummond, and then the alumni association would be howling for my head."
He shuffled some of the papers in Logan's file around, before looking up at Logan meaningfully.
"I don't want to learn you've been involved in anything like this incident again, ya hear?Anything.I cannot stress to you enough how badly this almost cost you. Hell, if any of the cheerleaders so much as complains you cracked wise about her pom-poms— you're done. The whole school's watching you now, St. James. Don't screw this one up."
"Yes, sir," Logan promised, the word coming out low and wretched.
"Good." Closing the folder, Coach set it to the side of his desk. "Now get out of here and start cleaning up your mess. Your entire future depends on it."
Chapter 4
Big Man on Campus
The party tonight wasn't at a house Logan remembered being at before. He was almost certain he'd remember the living room ceiling being covered in flattened beer boxes and liquor bottle labels. Definitely the big sign hanging up pride of place on the wall that'd obviously been swiped from the local pizza chain. But then again, some weeks Mu Tau Rho's parties got pretty wild, so…
Thanks to the Panhellenic Council's rules — rules thatallthe Greek houses on campus had to follow if they didn't want to be shut down; fraternity, sorority, and all the others besides — they couldn't have alcohol anywhere in their chapter house. All the fraternity's informal parties were hosted by the more senior members who lived in a rotating assortment of poorly maintained rentals off-campus, and therefore free from the Council's restrictions.
"Hey, Logan! Great game last Saturday," Ashton shouted over the music, nearly spilling the contents of the red plastic cup he was gesturing with as he slung an arm around Logan's neck. "Too bad they bench you freshmen, but hey — It'll be you out there next year, right?"
"Yeah, sure," Logan replied absently, his mind still buzzing with what Coach had said. "Next year."
If I'm still here. At this rate, there's no telling if I'll even make it through the month. Coach says they can help me in practice, and it won't be hard to steer clear of Drummond and his friends. But how the fuck am I supposed to bring up my grades when I'm already trying my best? I'm not a nerd like Wally; I can't just play video games all night and still manage to sleepwalk my way to an 'A' on an Algebra test
Maybe a tutor?Logan wondered.But how do I find one? Oh, hell — they'd probably charge, too. How would I even pay?
The grin his fraternity brother turned on Logan was bright as always, with teeth so unbelievably perfect that Logan would lay good money that one of Ashton's parents was a dentist. Logan tried his best to match it, but it was a lost cause. His head was too full, turning his problem over and over on far too little sleep.
Between the late-night prank, the usual mix of classes and practice, the extra laps, and then spending the last four hours scrubbing down the soccer team's locker room on top of that? Logan was B-E-A-Tbeat.If he hadn't agreed to show up to this thing, he'd be face down on his bed already, trying to catch up on his sleep. But he'd promised Ashton and some of the other guys he'd come. Plus, he'd invited Madeline, who was bringing some of her other cheerleader friends along too.
He'd even managed to get Wally to promise he'd drop by, which was a minor miracle in and of itself. So it's not like Logan could bail now, was it?
As if the guy truly had better things to do with his evening.Logan snorted.Probably be camped in our room, watching one of those nerd shows on his laptop or pretending to be an elf, off saving the world. Or worse, spending a perfectly good Thursday night avoiding talking to girls and doing homework or something, like he doesn't already have perfect grades
Logan froze as the beginnings of a plan began to form in his mind.
Perfect grades, and no girlfriend, Logan mused.Maybe I'm not the only one in need of a tutor? Wonder if he'd be interested in working out some kind of trade…
