Chapter 51

Asher

By late September, the Linksfield Eagles have won four out of the five regular season games. We're not worried. We'll make it to the playoffs.

"Coach Cameron?" Susan, from the office, comes up to me on the football field with a worried look on her face. "Principal Watson asked to have a word with you. He says he's sorry to have to call you off the field, but it's important."

"It's fine. Hey, Sam. I'll be back in a minute."

Sam gives me the thumbs up, and I follow Susan across the field. She opens the door to Principal Watson's office, and I walk through. The quiet makes me nervous, and perhaps I'm imagining the formality of it all.

Principal Watson is seated at his desk. He rises when I enter, and it takes half a second – less – to understand that something is wrong. The playful edges of his eyes are absent, as well as the usually smiling face. It's hard to decide how to greet him, so I give him a clipped nod and wait.

Finally, he speaks. "Ash, I always pride myself on being honest with my staff. You know that, right?"

"Right," I say curiously.

"And I expect the same honesty from all my staff."

"What's this about Principal Watson?" My guard is up.

Watson sighs. "Look, Cameron. Maybe it's because it's election time and everyone's losing their minds. I don't know. I'm supposed to send you a formal notice, and I'm still going to do that, but I had to talk to you first."

"Just tell me, sir."

"It's about that new guy."

My heart begins to thud. "What new guy?"

"Sawyer's coworker, Cameron."

"Sawyer isn't cheating," I say, remembering our conversation from before the summer, and my head begins to pound when I remember the rumors started by Deliah and my conversation with Gerald.

"So, what are you calling it?" Principal Watson says.

I give him a blank look, but I'm not at all confident in where I stand right now. "I'm not sure I follow, Principal Watson." Actually, I think I'm following pretty well. Fuck Deliah.

Another sigh. "Okay. I'll spell it out for you. I got a call this morning from Sally Varga. She's an administrator from the school district's office. She asked me to look into an email she'd sent to me last week."

"Okay." Fuck.

Principal Watson rubs the back of his neck, and this room is suddenly starting to get hot and uncomfortable. "Now, I've been behind on emails, so it took me a while to find hers. Apparently, they've received a complaint about one of my staff members who's allegedly involved in what they're calling moral indiscretions . According to the email, it could potentially bring the school into disrepute. I've been instructed to investigate the morally questionable behavior of my football coach." He waves his hand over me. "That would be you, Coach Cameron."

Jesus fuck .

"Would you like to fill me in on what these moral indiscretions might be, Cameron?"

"To my knowledge, I have no moral indiscretions to confess to," I say carefully.

"Okay. Have it your way. But it gets worse. Somehow – whether accidentally or intentionally, I don't know at this point – this complaint got into the hands of some stuck-up folk in town, Republican campaigners, I've heard. And I believe there's now a petition with ninety-eight signatures calling for your removal if the investigation yields the outcome they suspect. Now, Coach Cameron, do you have something you want to tell me?"

"Who's the complainant?" I ask with a surprising amount of calm.

"Someone named Buddy Carter. You know someone by that name?"

It's like being stabbed in the same wound over and over again. This vendetta against Reece and me is preposterous. Buddy Carter is fucking insane.

It's difficult to breathe, even with the windows behind Principal Watson pushed wide open. It's as if all the air has been sucked out of the room and the only outcome will be that I'll have to die right here because Buddy Carter has ordained it. And instead of keeping a cool head, because it is all I'll have to deal with this situation, my molars grind together and my nostrils flare with rage. All these fucking rumors and people passing judgment on things they know nothing about.

I don't speak, although I want to tell him to fuck off along with Buddy Carter and the rest of this town. But Principal Watson isn't an enemy trying to ruin my life a second time over a simple thing like love. He speaks again, calm and tired. "Just tell me the truth, Cameron. Do I have some kind of scandal on my hands? Am I about to lose face with this entire town over some moral indiscretion? I need to know what I'm dealing with here."

I don't like doing this to him, but I can't answer any of his questions. If this came from the school district, it might be beyond his ability to resolve it in a simple conversation here in his office. And I don't know how serious this is yet.

When I remain silent, Watson sighs and runs his hand down his face. "Cameron, I'd hate to lose you. You're the best damn coach this school has ever seen. We've been around for seventy years, and no one has walked through these doors and done for those kids what you've done. I respect you and I don't care what you do with your private time if it's not hurting anyone. But I'll have a riot on my hands if I don't see this through."

He takes his seat again. I remain standing. He rubs his temples with his thumbs, then leans back in his leather chair. "The school district has cited the morality clause which is documented in section seven of our Code of Conduct. The penalty for such a violation is dismissal."

Dismissal? There is no fucking way. I expected some gossip. Some upturned noses and a good amount of personal judgment from people when they found out. I was prepared for that. But to face a disciplinary process over it? That's taking things too fucking far.

"I've done nothing to bring the school into disrepute," I say finally. I don't even remember reading about a morality clause in the Code of Conduct.

Watson gets up. "Look, Cameron, if this is just something you guys are doing to pass time, have a little fun and excitement, whatever, I can understand that, I really can. To each his own. But if it comes down to your career, Cameron, is it really worth it?"

My instinctive and automatic answer is yes . Yes, he's worth it. Reece is worth every risk in every lifetime. But still. This is too harsh. How would they enforce such a subjective rule, anyway?

And Buddy Carter? He thinks he can just make a phone call and ruin people's lives? Nothing has changed. He's still the same selfish cunt he was eleven years ago. I can't let him get away with it. I can't go quietly. Not this time. My parents went quietly because they wanted to protect me. I have to protect Sawyer and Reece and myself, but I won't do that quietly now.

And I won't be pushed around by a bunch of conservatives who refuse to believe that there are other ways to live your life.

"Do you have any paperwork for me, Principal Watson?" I ask.

"Yeah, yeah. I do. I'll email everything to you today." Then, with a regret I appreciate, he says, "As of immediately, you are placed on paid administrative leave."

"Thank you, Principal Watson," I say and turn to leave.

"Wait. Cameron, think about the kids. We're less than two months away from the championships. You deserve that championship as much as they do. Your suspension means you can't coach them. You can't attend the games. Not even Sawyer can. You can't talk to the team. You get how serious that is? Just tell me none of it is true and I swear to you, you'll be back next week like nothing ever happened. We finish the regular season games, advance to the playoffs, and we take the championship again at the end of November. It's that easy."

I keep my face blank. "I'll wait for your email, sir."