Page 92 of Call the Shots
The flyer was a warning.
HOCKEY PLAYERS CAUGHT AT FRATERNITY EVENTS WILL BE REPRIMANDED BY FACULTY
CHAPTER 34
BEAR
THROW ACCUSATIONS AROUND
For the team-wide meeting,we piled into a freshly-cleaned conference room—demolded. No random boards with protruding nails to be seen. Denali sat on the fold-out table while I was in an office chair with only three working wheels, waiting for everyone to arrive.
“The ‘no frat parties’ rule is fucking bullshit,” Pickles said, his hand in a bucket of popcorn.
“Yeah, we heard.” I gestured towards our haphazard collection of dining chairs, folding chairs, beanbags, sofas, and upside-down trash cans we collected from the Colo. “Find a seat.”
“We didn’t make the rule,” Denali reminded him. “We’re not even enforcing it.”
Cleo came in, June behind her, both holding stacks of notebooks. I’d been hoping they’d arrive with a solution for the real reason we called the meeting, but June grimaced my way, confirming she was as reluctant as I was.
“Why are we here?” Riley demanded.
“That’s a great question.” Elijah pointed at him. “Who invited Twinkletoes?”
Three teammates had to hold Riley back. Denali grabbed a stapler, thumping it against the table to call the meeting to order.
“Shut the fuck up!” I roared and the room quieted down.
“Thanks, Bear.” Denali blew out a long breath. “We’re not here about the frat rule. Bear and I have been doing inventory, and we need to start running a tighter ship.”
Protests drowned him out, but I yelled to shut them up again. Denali gestured to June.
“We’re making an open pantry at the Colo,” she announced. “It’ll be in the eastside break room. The cupboards, the fridges, everything in there will be open access. It’s pay-what-you-can but I know that’s asking a lot.”
“Especially with the checks delayed again,” Cleo added, and more complaints followed.
“Ladies are talking!” I snapped. “Shut the fuck up!”
When it fell silent, June flipped another page. “We have a groceries form, you’ll need to update us?—”
Elijah sighed. “We’re not poor, right? Are we poor?”
Nobody refuted it. There was nothing to refute.
“Bear, your family has money,” Elijah pushed. “Xavier’s loaded.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “That’s his grandpa’s money, I’m not part of that.”
“This means changes are going into effect.” Denali straightened. “We’ll count pucks after practice, our cleaning supplies will have rotating inventory auditors, and what we’ve found in the Colo is what we have for gear. Nothing new is coming in until our checks clear.”
“What’s the hold up?” someone shouted.
It took everything in me not to say, ‘our coach.’
Cleo left for a call and Denali began a speech about how we had to move as a team, undivided. I nodded along. It was thebogus, mushy shit I could never say, but it’d get the team to stop bitching through the meeting.
“Some of us were rushing for a frat,” Pickles interrupted.
“We’re not still on that bullshit,” I muttered.
