I sat in her room, with an ice pack pressed to my jaw, and didn’t think about why I'd come here instead of going to bed.
I’d been through the wringer today already, and now here I was holed up in my tutor’s bedroom — a tutor I’d had to fight to keep. I rubbed my jaw as I thought back to this morning.
Sunday morning was supposed to be early film study, just me, Coach Hembry, and sometimes, Coach Sutherland.
I’d walked in, thinking I was prepared for the worst and had faced every coach and assistant coach on the team. I even looked to see if ‘Big’ Al Rennick, the equipment manager, was there because everyone else seemed to be.
Not one of them looked happy to be there. But that was nothing compared to the fury in Coach Sutherland’s eyes.
“You want to tell me what the fuck you were thinking last night, Spence?” Coach Sutherland demanded.
I briefly met Coach Hembry’s eyes, but he looked just as pissed as everyone else. No support there then.
I could tell them what I heard, what they said, but something told me not to disclose that yet. So, I did what I did best. I stated the facts as I knew them, and I owned the room.
“Five guys in the bar,allegedlyteammates, started giving me shit because they don’t get a game.” I sniffed dismissively. “It didn’t help I didn’t know their names—” I still didn’t — “but they had a real attitude problem, and when Noah and I left, to go home and not get into trouble, they followed us outside and started throwing down.” I shrugged. “I know it’s not whatyou want from your number one quarterback, it’s not what I want either, but I’m not a coward. If you come at me with your fist doing the talking, I answered the only way they seemed to understand.”
“So, you’re saying that youevaluatedthe situation like an adult, like aleader of this team would do, and then decided to act like a fifteen-year-old boy instead?” Sutherland barked.
He looked ready to burst a blood vessel.
What followed was an hour of grilling, stripping down, repeating myself, and an all-around fuckfest.
The room was finally quiet again. I felt like I’d played a game into overtime and taken multiple sacks throughout it.
Coach Hembry glanced between me and Sutherland. “No more access to the lounge,” he said simply. “Your teammates think you are being treated differently. Let’s remove that misconception.”
I never used it anyway. It was no fun being in there alone.
“Agreed,” I said instead.
“You wait your turn for the trainers like your peers,” Coach Merriman said gruffly. “Skipping ahead makes others feel inferior.”
“I would never want that.”Inferior my ass, those fuckers weren’t even getting a game.
“No more tutoring,” Coach Sutherland said quietly, watching me. “You pass on your own merit.”
I met his stare, saw a gleam that very much looked like he wanted me to challenge him. I didnotneed him against me.
But Sav . . .
“Of course, Coach, but—”
“You trying to negotiate with me?” Sutherland asked, and I just knew I was about to fuck up. It was the same tone when he told you to play a running game, and I threw because Dust was already ten yards from the end zone.
“I work hard,” I told him honestly, not blinking. “I’ve never needed to use the tutoring that comes with the program.” I saw his nostrils flare; yeah, that’s right, this was aprogramprivilege, not a quarterback one. “I don’t like that I need to rely on my tutor for this class either. If you want to change who it is, that’s your choice, but I need the help.” I didn’t. Sav knew it, had told me as many times. “I will, of course, do what you want.”
Fucker.
He watched me, and I waited patiently.
“What class is it?” One of the assistant coaches asked.
“Educational Policy and Governance,” I told him smoothly, not breaking Sutherland’s stare.
“Jesus, Spence,” someone else muttered. “What the fuck did you take that for?”
Fabulous question. I shrugged. “It sounded interesting. I may have been too optimistic.”
