Page 77 of Penalty Box

I needed a cover, and fast.

Dad stood behind his desk, and didn’t look my way. His forehead vein protruded, in case I had any doubts about how upset he was right now.

“This is what happens,” he was saying to Mason, “when you let one player get away with too much. The whole damn culture goes soft.”

I stepped in and closed the door quietly.

“It’s a privilege to play at this level,” my dad said. “I don’t need entitlement in my team. Everybody’s questioning my leadership, and the more you screw up, the harder my job becomes.”

Mason stared straight ahead at a point on the wall behind my dad. He looked like a kid who’d been sent to the principal’s office.

I didn’t know if I was supposed to speak or wait, so I stood there awkwardly, still holding my tool bag. Every inch of my skin burned. He hadn’t brought me here to yell about school. This was about way more than a few missed classes.

Dad finally looked at me.

“I’m disappointed in you, Cass,” he said, calm and direct. “You lied to me.”

I would’ve fared better if he were angry and yelling. Disappointment always cut deeper.

“Are you seriously going to believe stupid rumors over your own daughter?”

“I saw you two. In the garage bay.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Last night,” he said, glancing at Mason before turning back to me. “He just admitted it, so there’s no use lying about it, Cass.”

My stomach dropped. Mason’s posture stiffened, but he still didn’t look at me. I stared at him anyway, that moment of flickering movement we’d thought we’d imagined now crashinginto certainty. We had been seen. And worse… by the one person who was never supposed to find out about us.

“I didn’t lie,” I said quickly, stepping forward without thinking. “I just… didn’t tell you everything. That’s not the same.”

“Is that so? Because all I can see from where I’m sitting, is how exactly the same it is,” he said.

“I was going to tell you,” I found my voice again, louder and firmer. “But you didn’t exactly make it easy.”

“I was waiting to see if you’d own up,” he said simply. “To see if you respected me enough to come clean.”

“I didn’t want to keep this from you.” I dropped my tool bag on the floor and sat down. “You have to believe me, Dad. I just… knew how you’d react.”

He scowled at me. “And you think that made it okay?”

“No.” My voice cracked. “I thought I’d get the chance to explain before you made up your mind about us.”

“It’s ‘us’ now, is it?”

Agitation ruffled the last remnants of calm inside of me. “What do you have against him? Mason’s one of the good ones.”

“This isn’t about whether he’s a good guy or a good player,” my dad replied. “It’s about the kind of daughter I raised.”

This gutted me. When I looked over, Mason was staring right at me. So much passed in that brief moment of open honesty.

“I’m still the same daughter.”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, thinking hard. Something much heavier than frustration darkened his expression. I’d hurt this man, and it fucking sucked.

“We used to trust each other, Cass,” he said.

“You can still trust me. I trust you.”