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Page 34 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

BEAR

THROW ACCUSATIONS AROUND

For the team-wide meeting, we piled into a freshly-cleaned conference room—demolded. No random boards with protruding nails to be seen. Denali sat on the fold-out table while I was in an office chair with only three working wheels, waiting for everyone to arrive.

“The ‘no frat parties’ rule is fucking bullshit,” Pickles said, his hand in a bucket of popcorn.

“Yeah, we heard.” I gestured towards our haphazard collection of dining chairs, folding chairs, beanbags, sofas, and upside-down trash cans we collected from the Colo. “Find a seat.”

“We didn’t make the rule,” Denali reminded him. “We’re not even enforcing it.”

Cleo came in, June behind her, both holding stacks of notebooks. I’d been hoping they’d arrive with a solution for the real reason we called the meeting, but June grimaced my way, confirming she was as reluctant as I was.

“Why are we here?” Riley demanded.

“That’s a great question.” Elijah pointed at him. “Who invited Twinkletoes?”

Three teammates had to hold Riley back. Denali grabbed a stapler, thumping it against the table to call the meeting to order.

“Shut the fuck up!” I roared and the room quieted down.

“Thanks, Bear.” Denali blew out a long breath. “We’re not here about the frat rule. Bear and I have been doing inventory, and we need to start running a tighter ship.”

Protests drowned him out, but I yelled to shut them up again. Denali gestured to June.

“We’re making an open pantry at the Colo,” she announced. “It’ll be in the eastside break room. The cupboards, the fridges, everything in there will be open access. It’s pay-what-you-can but I know that’s asking a lot.”

“Especially with the checks delayed again,” Cleo added, and more complaints followed.

“Ladies are talking!” I snapped. “Shut the fuck up!”

When it fell silent, June flipped another page. “We have a groceries form, you’ll need to update us?—”

Elijah sighed. “We’re not poor, right? Are we poor?”

Nobody refuted it. There was nothing to refute.

“Bear, your family has money,” Elijah pushed. “Xavier’s loaded.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “That’s his grandpa’s money, I’m not part of that.”

“This means changes are going into effect.” Denali straightened. “We’ll count pucks after practice, our cleaning supplies will have rotating inventory auditors, and what we’ve found in the Colo is what we have for gear. Nothing new is coming in until our checks clear.”

“What’s the hold up?” someone shouted.

It took everything in me not to say, ‘ our coach .’

Cleo left for a call and Denali began a speech about how we had to move as a team, undivided. I nodded along. It was the bogus, mushy shit I could never say, but it’d get the team to stop bitching through the meeting.

“Some of us were rushing for a frat,” Pickles interrupted.

“We’re not still on that bullshit,” I muttered.

“I’m just saying—what the fuck, Kid’s Toy?” Pickles’s words settled over the room, and everyone turned to gangly Montoya, sitting on an overturned recycling bin. He quickly stammered out apologies.

“Pickles, why don’t you learn to backcheck and shut your mouth?” Elijah retorted.

Pickles was right, this was clearly in retaliation to Montoya’s birthday, but he wouldn’t get that from me. Everyone erupted into arguments. Denali and Fridge were trying to calm people down but if Pickles wanted a fight, I’d give him one.

The door shoved open. “Gladiators!”

We turned to an unfamiliar voice—Coach Vernon. I shot a confused look at June. Nobody messaged him about the meeting. I didn’t even know he was in the Colo.

Coach held up a crushed black device. “Who put this in my office?”

I scanned the room, but I couldn’t pick out a guilty party. Pickles glanced at me, his face blank, and Elijah shrugged when I raised my eyebrows. No one knew what he was talking about.

“What is it, sir?” Denali asked.

“It’s a camera . This is an invasion of privacy!”

Oh, shit.

Nobody said a word.

“It’s disrespectful to your coach!”

Elijah broke the heavy silence. “Are you still our coach? It’s hard to remember.”

Why the hell would he say that? What possible benefit could there be from riling up Vernon? Surprised chuckles bounced between the team, and if anything, that pissed Vernon off even more.

“Elijah,” Denali warned before turning to Coach. “We don’t know who?—”

“No, I know who did it,” Vernon retorted, eyes on Elijah.

“He didn’t do it,” Denali insisted. “Elijah would’ve told me.”

Elijah tightened his stance. “I’m getting blamed because you recognize me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vernon demanded.

“This is your fourth fucking time seeing us this summer. The only reason you’d point me out for putting a jerk-off camera in your office?—”

“ That’s enough! ”

“—is because I was here last year?—”

“SUSPENDED!” Vernon thundered.

Riley stalked closer. “You don’t speak to Coach like that, asswipe.”

“Before you talk to me, learn to fucking skate,” Elijah snapped.

More teammates had to hold Riley back and Denali stood up, heading to Elijah’s side. Tense seconds passed, everyone waiting for the first punch.

“You’re suspended, Elijah,” Vernon spat.

Denali grabbed Elijah’s shoulder. “No, he’s not.”

Vernon’s face darkened. “Mathis?—”

“It’s Maddox. And I won’t have a guy who’s barely around talk down to my team.”

“Fine. You’re suspended too.” Vernon’s eyes landed on me. “Beau, you’re captain.”

Beau?

I realized who he meant when everybody else did, eyes flickering in my direction. Me? I wouldn’t be running practice twice a week, I’d be shouldering all of it, and without Elijah, my defense partner.

“If they’re out, I’m out,” I said flatly, kicking my chair back behind me.

Shock rippled through the room, and I moved to Denali and Elijah. It wasn’t like I believed in the suspensions, Vernon was barely at the Colo, we would’ve found a way around it, but I didn’t want anyone to consider me captain with Denali gone.

“If they’re suspended, I’m suspended,” Fridge said suddenly.

I glanced in surprise and saw Nick pushing out of his chair too. “Count me out.”

“I’m out.”

“Suspension, agreed with.”

“If those three are gone,” Pickles pointed at us, “I’m walking.”

More and more of our teammates left their makeshift chairs, not even for a performance, they were joining us in the middle of the room. I sought out June’s face in the crowd and she looked just as stunned.

The door opened and Cleo stepped in. “What’s going on?” She stared at the black device. “Oh. Oooh. ”

“I’ll find out who did it,” June blurted out. She used her crutches to make a loop towards Vernon and plucked the camera from his hand. “I have a trip to Austin but the moment I get back, I’ll figure out the company who sold it and track down the owner.”

My throat tightened. June wouldn’t sell out one of the guys. Would she?

Vernon’s shoulders finally relaxed. “At least someone’s doing something productive. Clearly, there are players who think they’re above the rules.” His gaze passed over the congregated crowd. “It’s time for you to remember who’s in charge.”

Without another word, he left the room.

“Are we…suspended?” Montoya asked slowly.

“Ignore the suspensions,” Denali said. “The meeting isn’t finished, back to your seats.”

Nick sighed. “I really wanted to leave early.”

After the meeting, I watched June and Cleo whisper urgently. It looked like an important conversation, but we had to talk.

“June?” I broke in. “When the Clemenza thing happened, you protected your friends. Why would you snitch to Vernon? The guys trust you.”

“Bear—I know who did it.”

“What? Who?”

June thumbed towards Cleo.

“I didn’t hide it well enough.” Cleo grimaced. “We need a backup plan. Because we have to get rid of Vernon.”

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