Page 112 of Cold as Ice

“That’s why I’m here.”

That wasn’t the only reason he’d come. Just earlier today he’d told Elliott it was more. But Elliott wasn’t surprised Mal kept his mouth shut about that now. Finding out they were together wasn’t going to improve Coach’s chances of believing they were right about this.

“This is . . .this is a lot,” Coach said, sighing and running his hand through his hair. He stood then and walked over to the door. Poked his head out of it, gesturing to someone out of Elliott’s line of vision.

But Elliott wasn’t surprised at all to see Zach come in, trailing after Coach B.

“Tell him what you just told me,” Coach said, exchanging a look with him as he came to rest against the corner of Coach’s desk.

“Tell me what,” Zach said.

Elliott went over it again, internally wincing at how truly ludicrous it sounded. Why the fuck would Dr. Prosser give enough of a shit abouthimthat she’d be willing to sacrifice her career if this came out?

He supposed maybe she was assuming that it wouldn’t ever. That he’d take the D and accept he was off the team, without fighting back.

That he wouldn’t have a Mal on his side.

“Wow,” Zach said, when he finished.

“It sounds crazy,” Coach B agreed. “But Mal swears that the work is right. That Elliott should have had the right answers. Did you ever have Dr. Prosser?”

“No,” Zach said, shaking his head. “Never.”

“But you did,” Coach said, turning to Mal.

Mal nodded. “It was two years ago, though.”

“But you didn’t observe, back then, any bias against athletes?”

“No,” Mal said reluctantly.

“Mal’s a different creature though,” Zach said with a ghost of a smile.

“He is, but still. I’d have expected some hint of it,” Coach B said. “If it was bias, that is. It could be something else.”

“But what?” Elliott said, more than a little bitterly.

“Coach, under these circumstances isn’t there something you can do about keeping Elliott on the team?” Mal asked.

Coach looked conflicted. Which Elliott supposed was a good thing. Of course this wasn’t going to be easy. They had no proof. Partially why he hadn’t wanted to fight this at all.

“No,” he said slowly. “I can’t flout the rules that say he needs to be removed from official practices and games, once that grade goes final, which is in . . .a few weeks? I think?”

“So he has a few weeks. A few weeks where we can prove Dr. Prosser did this to him,” Mal said staunchly.

“Theoretically, yes. I’ll give you all the time I can. All the help I can,” Coach said, but grimaced apologetically. “Not sure what that is, though.”

“Support,” Mal said firmly. “And not letting Ell beat himself up more than he already is.”

Coach looked surprised. Elliott could see worry flash across Mal’s face, and then he regrouped. “He’s a vital member of this team, sir.”

“That he is,” Coach said, nodding.

“I have some thoughts, on where we can go next,” Mal said.

This was news to Elliott but he didn’t say so. After all, he hadn’t had time to think through what all this could entail. He hadn’t really believed that walking in and telling Coach would fix everything—only that it was the first step.

But trust Mal to already be thinking of the next ones.

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