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“They did?” I ask, sharing a look with Reese. “What does that mean?”

“It means they know someone on campus is dosing drinks with an illegal and controlled substance. Everyone is in agreement you were probably not the intended victim.Unfortunately, unless it happens again, or a witness comes forward, I doubt much will come of it.”

It’s a harsh reminder of why it’s important to keep Nadia close and to stay alert. Whoever tried to fuck with her is still out there.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“No, sir.” We both answer.

“Good.” He jerks his chin. “Then get out of here.”

Reese heads out the door, but I indicate to him that I need a minute. I hold back until Bryant notices. “I did have one more thing.”

“Make it fast.”

“I, uh,” Shit. How do I start this? “I found out over the break that my father may have interfered with this situation. I was aware that it hadn’t hit the press and just figured it was the athletic department PR team or something.”

Coach leans back in his seat. “I’m aware that he made some calls.”

“It was never my intention for him to do that. I made a mistake–two–the weed and then being unaware of my surroundings to the point that I was drugged. I accept responsibility for those.”

“Son, I’ve seen your improvement over the past few weeks. Like I said, I’m impressed. You went above and beyond. Showing up early, adding in extra weight sessions, and from what I hear, your efforts exhibited with the team have filtered into your personal life.”

Partying. Puck Bunnies. Burning out at both ends.

“I wanted to prove that I was serious.”

“You have. Be proud of your efforts. I know that I am and so is the team.” This time when he waves me off, I don’t hesitate to leave. Reese is waiting in the hallway.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” I admit. Which feels weird, but I’m not going to question it.

“I told the guys. They want to go celebrate. Badger Den?”

“Yeah,” I’m already reaching for my phone. “But I’m not drinking.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, I’m feeling good. Fit. I don’t wake up with a hangover or wondering what I did the night before. I feel sharper in the goal and if this is my last season, I want to leave it all on the ice, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If anyone would, it would be Reese. There’s no one more dedicated to this sport and team. While he texts the team, I shoot off a message to Nadia.

GoalieGod: Passed my test.

T: Yay!

GoalieGod: Come celebrate with me.

T: Is this your way of getting me to come over?

GoalieGod: Nah. At the Den with the team.

For a second there’s no reply. No little dots indicating a message is being written. Shit. Maybe it’s too fast. Too soon.

“You ready?” Reese asks, tucking his phone into his pocket and grabbing his bag off the floor. “Everyone is headed over now.”

My phone vibrates.