But instead, he stands there in the doorway, points at me, and let’s some long overdue words fly.

“Listen, you little smartass piece of shit, you really want to know what happened with Coach Horton?”

“Yeah, I do, Justin. The guy’s my football coach.”

“Okay,” he says, barely lowering his voice. “Horton blocked any chance of me getting a scholarship. I don’t know what he said to recruiters, but he smeared me to the point where nobody was interested.”

Silence.

“Why?” I say. “I mean, I know you guys never got along, but was it really that bad?”

“Blaine Memorial is a dirty school, Zach. And deep down you know that.” Justin pauses. “Horton runs a dirty program, and I refused to get dirty.” He shrugs. “I refused to get dirty several times. He let me play because I’m good, but in the end he screwed me. After community college I might walk on at Eastern,” he adds, looking up from the floor. “But I don’t know. That’s at least two years away. I love the game, but I play by the rules. These people, Zach, people like Horton and his staff, they’ve gotten too damn competitive. I played football because it was fun, but those guys sucked the fun right out of it. Winning is like life or death for them.”

“So Horton wanted you to cheat, but you said no.”

“I said no over and over and over again.”

There’s another silence during which we stare at each other. I know exactly what he’s talking about, of course, but I’d rather play dumb and hear it from him.

And he finally says it. “Steroids, Zach.”

I swallow hard, heart racing.

“I know they’re out there,” I say. “And I’ve learned things about some coaches, but Horton?”

“He’s the kingpin.” Justin pauses again. “Horton only deals with the best athletes. Doesn’t matter what sport.”

“That’s why you warned me about Tank being a loose cannon, right?”

“I’m guessing Tank Foster has put on at least twenty pounds of pure muscle since Christmas. How the hell does somebody do that?”

“Yeah,” I say. “So why not go to the cops and nark on Horton?”

“With what proof?” Justin gives me a look. “Anyway, it’s over. I’m done with that place.” He points at me. “But you have one season left, so I guess that’s another reason I’m telling you all this. Beware of Hank Horton. He’s a sneaky, unethical son of a bitch.”

I nod. But there’s something more on Justin’s mind. I can tell. “What else?” I say.

He studies me for what seems like an hour. “We’re brothers, Zach. What I’m about to tell you stays between us. As brothers, okay? Dad doesn’t even know, so don’t breathe a word of it or I’ll tear you apart, got it?”