Page 5 of Unforgivable

“We'll talk tomorrow. Don't be late.” The phone disconnected before I could respond. Whatever he wanted to talk about clearly wasn't good, and I couldn't help but connect the dots back to a meddlesome freak and the events of last night. I just prayed to every force out there that I was wrong.

I knockedon Coach's door with ten minutes to spare. I hadn't told Kenji and Griffin how Coach had sounded on the phone, nor mytheory about what prompted this meeting. My goal was to go in confident and do my best to clear up whatever issue had cropped up.

“Come in,” Coach called out from behind the door. I steadied myself before entering.

Coach Langley was a stern, but fair man. He was hired a couple years ago to completely rebuild UT’s Lacrosse program after playing the sport professionally for nearly a decade. He made it no secret that he wouldn't tolerate lazy players looking for an easy time, or cocky athletes who didn't understand what it meant to be part of a team.

Coach was someone I looked up to immensely, and I worked my ass off to prove myself to him during the last two years playing for him. It meant everything to me when he appointed me captain for my junior year, even above some seniors. The last thing I wanted was to have a problem that cost me his trust.

When I met Coach's disappointed eyes, I knew beyond a doubt that I was royally fucked.

“Hawkins. Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

I sat in awkward silence while Coach navigated to something on his computer. Finally, he flipped the screen towards me so I was staring at the university's athlete code of conduct.

“I got a call late yesterday afternoon from someone who said he needed to report a student-athlete violation,” Coach started, his expression stony. “He told me there was a situation at a party Friday night where you put your hands on him in a threatening manner. He also said you were drunk and entered the bedroom of a fraternity member with an equally intoxicated woman that shouldn't have been able to give consent for sexual activity. If you've got an explanation, now's the time.”

My brain was a mess of white noise. Blood pounded in my ears and I broke out in a cold sweat over the implications of what he was saying. I needed to get control of this, explain what really happened.

You mean how you were trying to screw a girl senseless to get rid of painful memories and ended up slamming a kid into the wall by his throat because he pissed you off? Real fucking smooth, Hawkins. Good luck with that.

“Coach, I swear that is not what happened! Yes, I admit that I wasn't exactly sober Friday night, but I didn't threaten anyone and I never slept with that girl. I told her I wasn't feeling well and I left the party alone. Griffin can vouch for me that I didn't sleep with anyonethat night,” I pleaded to Coach. His eyes were scrutinizing me in the same way they did on the field. Like he could see straight through all my bullshit to the truth underneath.

“Hawkins, this is an official complaint he filed. The school's code of conduct specifically outlines alcohol or violent misconduct, both of which you are accused. I can't ignore this. Now due to the lack of proof for these allegations and considering your prior unblemished record, the athletic director has left the consequences in my hands,” Coach stated firmly.

My head was swimming and I felt bile rise up in the back of my throat, but I forced it down with a hard swallow. “What consequences?”

Coach pursed his lips and leveled me with a hard stare. “Starting today, you're on probation. I'm promoting Kenji to acting captain for the remainder of off-season while you prove to me that you can remain on your best behavior. I will hold off making a decision about your captaincy and game suspension until this matter can be investigated or the complaint is dropped.”

If Coach had whacked me in the nutsack with a Lacrosse stick and played the game with my balls, it would have hurt less than hearing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Coach, you can't be serious! I didn't do anything!” Desperation tinged my voice as I fought with him to believe me. I knew I had crossed a line with that guy on Friday, but that was my only sin. I hadn't stooped so low as to take advantage of a drunk girl, and I was hardly the only athlete to get blasted at a party. I wasn't going down for this.

“You know I don't take pleasure in any of this, Hawkins, but the University of Texas has strict expectations for their athletes. The behaviors of college players have been under a microscope in the media and for good reason. There have been scandals over compensation, hazing, sexual assaults and more. Athletes have been protected from responsibility and punishment for decades, most never being held accountable for their actions. It's a problem UT has fought to correct in recent years, and one I was adamant about fixing when I signed on as coach. This program is only as good as its players, and I cannot have my members attacking other students or making monumentally poor decisions while drinking. Especially my captain.”

Coach's words cut into me layer by layer, fear bleeding through to the surface as I struggled to control my breathing. I understood what hewas saying, but I was a good student and a damn good athlete. I had never believed I was above reproach.

And yet I couldn't fucking admit to what I actually did to that guy. I'd be kicked off the team and lose my scholarship, and that was a fate I wouldn't survive.

I can't go back there…

“Please, Coach. I promise you that I am innocent,” I said calmly, trying like hell to keep my voice steady.

“It doesn't matter if I believe you or not. I have to enforce consequences when a complaint arises. You're damn fortunate that your character and two years of excellent behavior warrant some leniency in this case. Probation isn't equal to suspension, and your scholarship is safe for now. I know that's a major concern for you. However, if evidence is brought forward or you step one toe out of line the rest of this year, you'll be dismissed from the team. Do I make myself clear?”

It took everything in me to hold Coach's steely gaze. My stomach bottomed out and nausea rolled through me. I couldn't tell if I wanted him to believe me or not. The thought of him believing my partial lie had me feeling like the biggest piece of shit, but I also knew I wasn't guilty of everything he heard.

I might have been a dick most days, but I wasn't a fucking criminal. Though as the gravity of what was happening sunk in, violence swept through my body and I nearly vibrated with rage.

This was all because ofhim. That little fucker had screwed with my life one too many times now. It was on the tip of my tongue to check with coach that the complaint could indeed be withdrawn and the consequences reversed, but I held back.

I didn't want to draw attention to it in case it made me seem nervous or guilty. I needed to appear confident that I had done nothing wrong. I needed to get back in control.

“Crystal clear, Coach. But I will prove to you that the complaint was wrong about me. I'll be the best I've ever been this year and earn your trust back,” I promised.

The door slammed shutbehind me as I stomped into my apartment, my fury still sky high after my meeting with Coach. I had gone to thegym to work out the excess energy running through my body, but all it did was jack my adrenaline higher.

“Godfuckingdamn it!” I yelled, throwing my phone at the back of the couch in frustration. I speared my hands through my hair and tugged hard at the strands. The pain brought me back marginally as I attempted to calm down.

---