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NATHAN

“Of all the asinine, stupid, foolish, goddamn selfish, ridiculous…” Coach’s tirade continues as he stands and faces the wall behind him, muttering his expletives in that staccato fashion that he slips into when he’s really, truly good and pissed. My heart punches my chest, matching the rhythm.

I glance to my buddy Wes, who stands with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall to my left, hoping for some solidarity among friends, but he’s in hardcore assistant coach mode and his expression is as angry as Coach Daniels’.

Their disappointment sits heavy on my shoulders, and I switch my gaze to the floor. How did it come to this? The answer isn’t simple, but it’s not all that complicated either.

A knock at the door brings my eyes up. Matt, another of the four assistant coaches, waits for Coach Daniels to turn around before he gives him a thumbs up signaling that my drug test was clean, which I already knew and swore to the fact an hour ago when Coach called me into his office, but it’s a relief anyway. One less disappointment to the man who’s been like a father to me since I arrived at Valley U.

Matt walks away and Coach lets out a long breath and takes a seat back in his creaky desk chair. He runs a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. It’s a few weeks before the season starts, and he still has that hopeful, optimistic look in his eye and fresh, put-together appearance… or he did.

“I’m not going to ask you any questions because it doesn’t matter and frankly, the wrong answer could put you in a whole heap more trouble.” He picks up the open textbook where my pills and weed are stashed inside a cutout in the middle of the pages. He snaps the book shut and tosses it to Wes. “Flush those, would you? And destroy the book.” He mutters a few more remarks about how goddamn stupid I am before he adds, “I need a few more minutes with Nathan.”

Wes offers a tight smile as he nods to Coach and steps out, shutting the door behind him.

“By the look on Wes’ face, I’m guessing your teammates weren’t aware of this any more than I was?”

“No—”

He holds his hand up for me to stop speaking. “Please don’t say anything. If you tell me those drugs are yours, then I have to call the athletic director and maybe the police.” He pins me with a hard gaze. “You get how serious this is?”

This time, I keep my mouth shut.