Page 46 of Fragile (Cedar Lakes University #2)
Chapter forty-five
Miles
“Fuck,” I shout, cursing the tape that’s currently sticking my fucking fingers together for the hundredth time. I’ve somehow in the last few days become the guy who scrapbooks non-stop, and I can’t say I like it much, mostly because it’s fiddly and messy and Quinn was right—I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, apparently. But I can’t mess this up. Not after everything she showed me from her scrapbook. Pages and pages of how intertwined we’ve been our whole lives and how long she’d felt more for me. I didn’t have words, I still don’t, hence my situation.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I see my girls name pop up.
Quinn
Good luck today. Remember if you need rescuing, crow like a bird.
I smile at her message.
Miles
Thanks Queenie, I feel like I might puke.
Queenie
10/10 don’t recommend that unless it’s all over your dad’s suit.
Miles
I love you, y’know.
Queenie
You can tell me that as often as you like.
Taking a deep inhale, I lock my phone and stand, stretching out my good arm, and remove my sling slowly. I can’t actually straighten the arm because the break is just behind my elbow, and all I want to do is stretch it out and lie on my bed like a starfish. But sometimes having the support off helps to rotate my shoulder, if nothing else.
I need to change out of my old t-shirt and make myself look a little more put together, because today I face the dean of the school. Today, I have to explain why I did what I did and how I plan to repent for my actions. That, and I also have to hand over the name of the dealer because word got around, and he knows it’s on campus. I don’t agree with what Levi is doing, but I also don’t know how it’s going to affect me if I tattle on him.
My phone buzzes again, but this time, it’s not Quinn.
Hudson has added you to “Textual Healing” group chat.
Opening the notification with a laugh, I see Seb, Hudson, and Jay are all in the chat too.
Jay
Do we need another group chat, Huds?
Hudson
Yes we do, because it’s criminal we don’t have one with just the guys.
Jay
I have three different group chats with you now, it feels like overkill.
Hudson
Nothing is overkill with me.
Seb
Everything is overkill with you, dude.
Hudson
Whatever. The reason I’m doing it is because I love you guys and I want to tell you nice things when I wake up in the morning because you’re all awesome.
Seb
Wait.
Is this just so you have more people to save you from hookups gone wrong?
Jay
Nail on the head.
Hudson
No! I’m upset that you think so little of me.
Miles
It totally is.
Hudson
Oh there he is, my favorite person.
Jay
Why you gotta break my heart like that.
Seb
Such a suck up.
Miles
Don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me.
Hudson
How’s the arm feeling?
Miles
Sore, but I’m hoping it’ll heal fast and I can get this cast off, it’s itchy as fuck.
Seb
Today’s the meet with the dean, right?
I hover my fingers over the buttons, not wanting to burden them but realizing that these people care about me.
Miles
Yeah, I’m about to get dressed and head over.
Hudson
We’re here for you, man.
Jay
Every step.
Seb
What they said. I’ll swing by later.
Hudson
What if he’s getting it on with your sister later?
Seb
You just had to go there.
Hudson
Spoiler: that won’t be the last time I go there either.
Smiling, I exit the chat, feeling my nerves settle. Doesn’t matter what happens today, these guys will still have my back.
Reaching into my drawers across the room, I choose a clean black shirt and slip it over my head, pulling my cast free, mentally preparing myself for the walk across campus to the dean’s office.
As soon as I’m outside the foggy glass door, I drop into a seat across from it. My leg starts bouncing uncontrollably, the jittery motion betraying the nerves I can’t quite shake. My fingers tap restlessly against my knee, and I rub my palms together, trying to calm the anxious energy. A shadow suddenly falls over me, and I freeze, quickly straightening up as I look up to see who it is.
Only when I do, I’m met with eyes that are the exact shade of brown like mine. Shoulders set with the same broadness and a jawline that I recognize because I see it in the mirror.
“Dad,” I say with a nod, keeping my voice even.
“Miles,” he repeats, echoing my cool demeanor.
I haven’t heard from him since the day he was asked to leave the hospital. No call, no text, no emails. Nothing. The bitterness I feel toward him is warranted, but the hurt and pain that’s also making my chest feel like it might cave in isn’t something that I expected. Mostly because I’ve been conditioned to disappoint him and now all I feel is hurt.
It doesn’t matter that I have feelings or show emotions. They were for the weak and, according to my dad, Cooper men weren’t made to be weak. We were meant to be bulletproof. Except I felt like glass, fragile and breakable. In fact, everything in my life felt fragile. My relationship with my dad, my football career, my childhood. But there’s one thing that always felt steady and constant and that was Quinn. She was there. As sure as the sun rose every day, my girl showed up for me.
Damn, I wish she were here right now.
“Miles. Mr. Cooper?” The dean stands in his doorway, observing us, probably wondering which one of us will snap first. Well, it won’t be me, not today. I hope.
Dad swaggers over to him, fingers touching his suit buttons until one perfectly manicured hand extends to him. “Jared, it’s good to see you again. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”
Well, fuck. There it is. Venom that stings.
“Miles.” He extends his hand to me too, and I take it with a firm shake, because Seb’s Dad always told me a good handshake is the foundation of impressions, first or last.
“Mr. Nesbit, sir.”
“Come in, both of you. Have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward his expansive mahogany desk.
We follow him into the room, the rich scent of polished wood filling the air. As we take our places in the sleek, leather chairs positioned before the imposing desk, silence falls over us.
“So, we all know why we’re here today.”
My dad hums, and I have to resist rolling my eyes. Of course that hum is the most judgmental sound he could make.
“Miles, I understand you’ve had a lot to deal with since the weekend game, what with your injury and concussion.” He steeples his fingers on his chest. “How are you feeling now?”
I try my hardest to ignore the fact that he is more concerned about me than my own father has been. “Sore, but okay. Thank you, sir.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.” He takes a breath. “Now, there is something your coach and medic disclosed to me, and that is that you were under the influence of illegal substances while on the field.”
I swallow hard, feeling the heat radiating from my father beside me.
“You understand that we have a zero-tolerance policy for drugs on campus, but especially as you are an athlete under government of the association, they have given us notification that you are to be removed from the team indefinitely.”
I nod solemnly, because I expected that. The confirmation doesn’t lessen the blow. It hurts like fucking hell to know that I did this, but I accept it, because I know I messed up.
My dad makes a noise that sounds as though he might be choking. Wishful thinking, perhaps.
“I need to apologize on behalf of my son. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation as to why—”
“He had class A drugs in his system? I think even if he had a valid reason, I’m not prepared to bend the rules for any student, Mr. Cooper.”
Jeez, that told him. I could high-five him for putting my dad in his place, if I wasn’t the subject here.
“Right, of course,” my father says, backing down, and I glance to him in my peripheral. I’ve never known him to back down before.
“Now, there are things to discuss here, Miles.” The dean sits forward, moving his pen to align with the paper pad on his desk. “One is the matter of your place here at Cedar Lakes. There are no school rules that state you will lose your place here, and given that it’s your last year next year, I would prefer if we could come to an agreement instead.”
“I’m listening, sir.”
He nods. “I understand you are majoring in Sports Science and Physiology. Correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your professors have very complimentary things to say about you, and your grades reflect hard work too. It would be a shame for you to leave here with an uncompleted degree, in my humble opinion. Don’t you think, Mr. Cooper?”
My dad clears his throat, pushing his palms into his knees. “I wasn’t aware that Miles had declared a major.”
I can’t help the scoff that leaves my mouth, but I regret it as soon as both sets of eyes swing my way. “Sorry.” Gritting my teeth, I turn to my dad. “I decided to declare at the beginning of last year after speaking to Mr. Dawson.”
“Sebastian’s father?”
“Yes. He gave me some sound advice, and I wanted to make sure I had a contingency plan in case I ever got injured in a game.” I make a point to emphasize the last words, and I know they hit as intended because I see my dad’s eye twitch. Yeah, that’s right, Dad, I’m not going to end up bitter like you. His eyes bore into mine, full of disdain and darkness that I’ll never fully understand.
“Right, well, it was a smart move. It meant that people want to vouch for you in this school; they want to see you succeed,” the dean says, allowing my attention to snap back to him.
“I’m grateful.”
“Yes, I wouldn’t be so grateful just yet, because if you are to stay in this school, there are some requirements you’ll need to adhere to, without fail.”
My chest eases for the first time since walking in here. “I’ll do anything.”
He smiles and places his glasses on his face, looking down at his notepad. “The first is that, as well as your doctor ordered counseling, the school also has a weekly meeting for students who require additional support with any mental health subjects. You will need to join this group and attend every week without fail.”
“Done,” I say without hesitation.
“You will also have to name the person who sold you the drugs so we can deal with them accordingly.”
Now I hesitate. I knew this would happen, but I feel guilty for possibly signing someone’s future away here, or maybe he did it himself anyway.
“Don’t be stupid, Miles. Tell him,” my dad snaps.
“It’s not that—”
“It’s that you had planned on using him again and you don’t want to give up your connection at school. It’s convenient having a dealer just down the road, and now you don’t have football, you may as well give up.”
His nostrils flare with every harsh breath he takes, spitting his words like daggers at me. I try to control my anger, clench my fists until my nails dig into my palms, but it’s no use.
“You know all of this started because of you, don’t you?” I hiss quietly but lethally. “Yeah, because you have constantly made me feel like shit, like I’m nothing but statistics to you, and even when that delivers to your standards, it’s still not enough.”
He holds my gaze, unwilling to back down, to take what I’m saying as truth. “And you know what else? It fucked with my head enough that I thought the only way I could impress the great Mark Cooper, the only way I’d get my own flesh and blood to accept me was to take some fucking pills that might make me focus better, stay more alert. And look where it got me! Fucked up in the hospital because the last pill I took after you called me on Saturday was laced with cocaine and I had no fucking idea.”
“Miles,” the dean begins, but I’m on a roll.
“No, please, sir, I will do everything you’ve asked, but I need to get this out.” I take a breath and wait for him to nod before continuing. “You know the only person who was willing to help me was Quinn. Her family has always been there for me, for my entire life. They picked me up when you let me fall. They stood by me at every event that wasn’t football, the ones you missed because you checked out after mom died.” I pause, taking a shaky breath. “And I get it, I do, but I fucking miss her too,” I admit, my voice cracking slightly. The ache of her absence feels like a void that’s impossible to fill. “Since she’s been gone, all I’ve gotten is a version of my dad I don’t know but have no choice in loving anyway because you’re my dad and you’re all I have.”
My dad stands, threading a hand through his hair. The soft thud of his suit shoes against the hardwood floor is the only sound as he paces around his chair.
“Mr. Cooper, if you’d rather I leave—” The dean stops immediately when my dad holds his hand up, gaze locked on me, and I can feel the pain he’s going to inflict before he even says it.
“I have done nothing but support you. You wanted to go to this school because Sebastian did, you got it. You wanted to stay in the house where I lost your mother, you got it. You wanted to play football just like me, you fucking got it, Miles.”
“But you never fucking loved me, Dad!” I explode, my hands trembling. He can tell me all the ways he’s helped me in the past, but none of them compare to the ways he’s torn me down over and over.
He staggers backward as though I’ve physically struck him.
“I think we should reconvene,” the dean interrupts wearily. “Miles, if you’re free tomorrow, I'll have my receptionist set up an appointment with just you and I.”
Heavy breathing fills the air with so much tension, I feel as though I’m balancing on a tightrope above a flaming volcano.
“Thank you for your time today, Jared,” my dad says, slipping his mask back in place, straightening his suit jacket with a shrug. “If you could let me know the outcome, I’d appreciate it.”
And then he’s gone. And I’m left with the broken pieces once again.