Chapter 1

JAX

The tie pressesagainst my throat.

I hate wearing this damn thing.

Coach Damon paces behind his desk. His tie is loose. He runs his hand through his hair. He pauses at his desk.

"Don't say a word," he says to me as he opens the top drawer and takes out a flask.

He helps himself to a swig.

"Liquid courage," he says. "Have some. You'll need it."

"I'm fine," I say.

"Jax. You do realize this is the meeting you don't want to have. Right?"

I shrug my shoulders. "What's the worst, Coach? They boot me? Really? They're going to take a star hockey player and just boot him off the team and out of the university? For what?"

"Academics, Jax. You're failing."

"Define that."

"That is the description!" Coach Damon yells. "You're failing all your classes! This isn't about the team anymore, Jax. This is about you. About your future. You should give a damn!"

He places his hands on his desk and looks down.

The guy is sweating. He looks ready to pass out.

Me? I feel like yawning and going back to bed at this point.

"Coach," I say. "You're really sticking your neck out for me here. I appreciate that. I don't take this lightly."

He lifts his head and looks at me. "You have a weird way of showing it."

"I have to keep calm. If I get worked up, I'll fuck this up."

I swallow hard, really hard on purpose, just for good measure.

Coach Damon pushes from his desk. He adjusts his tie and puts on a stern face.

"Let me talk, Jax. Let me defend you. Let me help you."

He walks to his office door and opens it.

It's time to face the music here.

To be fair, I haven't done shit around campus other than play hockey.

I know. I get it. I'm supposed to show up to class. I'm supposed to care.

I do wish I cared half as much as Coach Damon did.

Other than hockey, what purpose did I have here at Puckford University?

"Miss Morgan…"

"Rebecca is fine."

Coach Damon nods. "Rebecca." He smiles. "We've had a few of these meetings."

"We have," she says.

"I believe people are allowed to slip. To fall. But they need a chance to get back up. It's not like Mr. Archer has nobody supporting him."

Miss Morgan looks at me, her eyes bug-like through her glasses.

It's her and two men.

Miss Morgan. Mr. Weatling. Mr. Broderick.

They're all part of different boards and committees and all kinds of collegiate shit that I don't give one damn about at all.

Ultimately though, they're going to decide my fate.

"I want to hear from Mr. Archer," Miss Morgan says.

"Please," I say. "Jax."

I wink at her.

I can feel Coach Damon ready to groan.

"Jax," Miss Morgan says. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

I stare forward at Miss Morgan. My brain is telling me to just spout the nonsense she wants to hear. She wants me to tell her I'm a good person. And that I will study extra hard. That I will turn my grades around. She actually needs to hear it. It's the only way I can save myself and the only way she can save me.

The pause drags out for way too long.

I can practically hear the pores on Coach Damon's face opening, ready to leak sweat.

I suck in a slow breath.

In a way I guess my entire future is on the line right now.

"A tutor," Coach Damon blurts out. "Jax is meeting with someone. Today, in fact. Someone who can help him. The athletic and academic schedule is tough. Jax can handle it. This is his dream. He's getting help."

My jaw tightens.

I turn my head and look at Coach Damon.

"Is that true?" Miss Morgan asks.

I look at her.

"Jax?" Miss Morgan asks. "I need to hear you speak at some point."

I'm thinking. I don't want to talk to you either. You're just touting the collegiate line so you can collect your fat-ass paycheck.

"We do not have all day," Miss Morgan says.

Mr. Weatling and Mr. Broderick fold their hands and lean back in their chairs. They're annoyed. They don't like me.

"Be logical, Rebecca," Coach Damon says. "A tutor. That's the solution here. Give the guy a chance. If that doesn't work, or he chases the tutor away…"

"You see how flustered you have your coach?" Miss Morgan asks. "He's really pushing for you. And you can't speak a word?"

"I'm not sure what you want me to say, ma'am," I say. "Do you want me to make up lies? Do you want me to apologize and grovel? Does that even matter?"

Miss Morgan's nostrils flared. "You have an attitude problem, you know that?"

I nod. "I understand that."

"Do you care about this place? Do you care about your future?"

"Rebecca," Coach Damon says. "What are we doing here?"

Miss Morgan looks around. Then she stands up.

Mr. Weatling and Mr. Broderick stand up too.

They all look so proper and distinguished.

"A tutor makes sense to me," Miss Morgan says. "My concern is that this decision wasn't made sooner. Why let this go so far?"

"With all due respect, ma'am," I say. "You could have picked up on this sooner also. For all you know I'm reaching out. Looking for help. And this university has failed me."

Coach Damon lets out a nervous laugh. "I think what we're getting at is a solution. All of us on the same page. I'll take the blame. I've failed as a coach. Academics are as important as sports. Okay?"

Miss Morgan closes her folder and then points right at me. "Let's be clear of one thing, Mr. Archer. This is not a game. This is not a joke."

That's two things, Rebecca.

I bite my tongue and do not say that.

"This university is not a playground and we will not be made to look like fools. With that said, I do believe your coach makes some valid points. To just simply remove you would possibly put you on the wrong track outside of the university. Be very clear, Mr. Archer, this is your only chance."

"Yes, ma'am," I say.

"Rebecca, thank you," Coach Damon says.

He then grabs me and hurries me out of the office before I say anything else.

He keeps a smile on his face as we walk through the fancy smelling building with marble everywhere.

Once we're outside, Coach Damon stops and turns.

"You just got a break," he says.

"I can see that."

"Do not fuck this up, Jax," Coach Damon says. "I'll be in touch."

"Oh?" I ask.

"I have to go find someone to tutor you, right now."