Page 39

38

Luke

32: I had my mom sneak me my phone quick before Dr. Ray comes back in for concussion protocol

32: I’m okay

32: But she knows

I don’t even care about the final text that Lennon sent through. When Alice and I were out in the hallway after the second period, I knew it was over. But it’s been eating me alive not knowing how Lennon’s doing. Alice wouldn’t let me go see her or even go out and watch the end of the game. I’ve been confined to this random office in the arena here, pacing up and down so much I’m shocked I haven’t worn through the thin carpet.

Me: It’s going to be okay. I promise. I’m going to come see you as soon as I can

I need to see it with my own eyes. That she’s fine. That her head isn’t cracked open or she doesn’t have blood dripping down into her eye. Alice is right; not every hit is as severe as mine. But it does happen.

The door opens, and I whip my head over to see Alice step into the room and immediately shut it behind her. The air cools considerably as she turns her icy stare on me. She silently undoes the buttons at her wrists before slipping her jacket off and throwing it over the back of a chair.

Her face is set in a heavy frown and shoulders are tight with tension. The need to ask her about Lennon is crawling up my throat, demanding to be purged, but I keep my lips in a firm line. It’s best to not say anything right now and let her start.

She leans against a chair with one hand, propping the other on her hip. With a heavy exhale, she says, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to think really, really hard before you answer. I do not want you to lie to me. Because, Luke, I’ll find out the truth regardless. So save us both the time, and be honest.”

She pauses and I dip my chin.

“Did you cross a line with your athlete?”

I could lie. I probably should. Denial is the best chance I have of getting out of this. Well…there probably isn’t any getting out of this anymore. I shot that out of the window hours ago.

But I don’t want to lie to Alice. Not anymore. Not when lying has meant that I’ve been kept away from Lennon when everything inside of me is screaming to be at her side.

The best thing I can do now is try to mitigate the damage and protect Lennon in the fallout.

I look Alice directly in the eye as I answer, “Yes.”

The word is like a wrecking ball crashing through the wall. Alice’s head falls back, and she mutters something under her breath. I don’t elaborate. I don’t try to defend myself. Again, I need to let her lead this.

“I wasn’t actually expecting you to tell me the truth.” She chuckles humorlessly. “I thought we would end up having to open up an investigation, or at the very least, you and I would be in here for a lot longer while I wore you down.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I simply cross my arms and wait.

She rubs her forehead. “When did this happen?”

“Does that matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters!”

“Look, it wasn’t her fault. This is on me.”

“Of course it’s on you,” Alice sputters. “ You are the coach. You are the authority figure here. Yes, she’s not a minor, but there are rules in place for a reason. You abused your authority and position.”

“I know, fuck, I know that.” But I won’t say I’m sorry because that would be the first lie I tell in this room. Because I’m not sorry. I can’t apologize for the way I feel about Lennon. I hang my head. “I tried, Alice. Listen to me, and I know you’ll probably just assume I’m bullshitting you right now, but I tried not to let it happen. I tried to push it down. To pretend like it wasn’t happening. But…I couldn’t.”

“When?” she demands again.

I sigh. “I don’t know, a couple of months ago.”

Alice’s face slackens with shock for a moment before morphing back into anger. “ Months ?”

I clamp my lips shut.

“Fucking hell…” she shakes her head. “Did you not realize what this could mean for you? For her more importantly?” She notes my silence and looks away. “Or more just didn’t care, I guess. That’s it?”

“It’s not?—”

“I stuck my neck out there for you. You came in here with no coaching experience, a bad fucking attitude, and absolutely nothing going for you. And this is what you do with it.”

“I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“No, but you surely didn’t stop it either.”

“I know, but—” I rake my hands through my hair. “It wasn’t something I set out to do. I didn’t even want to be here! I didn’t want to work with her or this team. But once we started training…I mean you said it yourself. She’s special. And the more I worked with her and saw her grow and evolve…I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.”

Alice holds up her hand to stop me, as if what I’m saying physically pains her. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear you try to justify it. I can’t.”

“Alice—”

“No more talking. You’re done.” She grabs her jacket and drapes it over her arm. “This is what’s going to happen. Are you listening?”

Her condescension grates against my skin, but I keep my mouth shut and nod.

“I think it’s obvious that you’re not coming to the game Sunday. You no longer have a job at Haulton University or with this team. I’m not going to fire you, because that would just cause a shitstorm that I’d like to avoid. You’re going to quit for personal reasons next week since the season is officially wrapped and go quietly.

“I’m going to speak with Lennon again, but from what I’ve gleaned, she’s said the same thing as you. That it was mutual. Consensual. I will discuss with her again once the season is done, and if she tells me anything differently, then I swear to God, Luke, it will not matter that I have known you since you were a boy. I will launch a full investigation into you and make sure that you are punished to the highest degree.”

“Why aren’t you doing an investigation to begin with?” It’s a stupid fucking question for me to ask, and I should just keep my mouth shut, but I’m genuinely curious. That’s what I assumed would happen. An investigation, public story, media persecution.

Alice rolls out her neck on a heavy sigh. “Because as much as that would hurt you, it would also hurt her. And unlike what you clearly have been doing, I’m thinking about Lennon’s future. What a huge story this could turn into and how that would impact her. She doesn’t have a cushy NHL retirement to fall back on. She’s twenty-one years old, just beginning her life. I don’t want to destroy her life because you broke the rules.”

Grateful isn’t an emotion I thought I’d be feeling during this conversation, but it floods my entire chest. “Thank you.”

She scoffs. “Do not thank me. I’m doing this to protect her, not you. And like I said, if she changes her mind and reports something different to me, I will come after you.”

“I understand.”

“I want your resignation on my desk first thing Monday morning. I don’t want you anywhere near the game Sunday, or you to have any contact with any players, staff, or parents. And that includes Lennon. Got it?”

That’s just not going to happen, but I don’t tell her that. However, missing the game Sunday? Not being able to see Lennon play, if she’s cleared that is, is a dagger to the heart. “Can’t I?—”

“No. Do not push me right now. I’m this close to saying fuck it and launching an investigation anyway, despite what you both claim.”

She turns her back to me and places a hand on the doorknob. Then quietly, she says, “I trusted you. I wanted to give you a chance at a new start because I knew you could be good. And you were. You were good at this job.” She then looks over her shoulder and pain has replaced fury behind her eyes. “I’m disappointed in you, Luke. I truly am.”

“Alice…” My words catch in my throat, tangled up in guilt and regret, but never over loving Lennon. Only over betraying Alice’s trust. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I never meant for this to happen, and I never wanted to betray you. You stuck a hand out to me when I was drowning, and I didn’t even want to be saved. But you know who else did that for me?”

Alice is silent.

“She did.”

Her jaw clenches before she turns back to the door. “Don’t do something else stupid, Luke. Go home.”

With that, she’s out the door and leaving me alone with the silent hum of these four walls.