Page 4 of Collide
Dylan is the only one out of us that is part of a frat. Kappa Sigma Zeta treats him like royalty, and although he lives with us, he could easily have the master suite in the Greek Row house. But according to him, having to be in the same house as the “ass-kissing freshmen” is the last thing he wants.
I eat a spoonful of oatmeal. “Where are the rest of the guys?”
Eli scrolls through his phone and shows me the screen. It’s a picture of Kian passed out on the grass at the front entrance of our campus. Behind him, the monument of Sir Davis Dalton is trashed.
I squeeze my eyes shut hoping there is a simple explanation for this. Maybe a really good Photoshop job. “Who took that?”
“Benny Tang.”
I pause mid-bite. “Yale’s tendy? What was he doing here?” Having Yale come here after we slaughtered them in a game before winter break would be the worst possible scenario. The last thing I remember before heading upstairs was telling Dylan to shut it down soon. Clearly, he didn’t listen.
“Might wanna ask Dylan. I wasn’t here.”
Of course, he wasn’t. If Eli, the only other responsible one, hadn’t been at the party, that means the two overgrown children, Dylan and Kian, were in charge.
This all started when they lost a bet last semester that has us throwing the majority of the parties on campus. The parties we don’t throw, we have to provide the booze. When I found out, I had both of them benched for two games straight.
Despite everything, I’m hoping this is a nightmare and I’m still in bed with Aleena. “And do I wanna know where Dylan is?” I ask cautiously.
When Eli picks up his phone again, I groan.
He chuckles. “I’m kidding, dude. He’s passed out in the living room.”
“IT WAS ME.”
Every eye in the room zeroes in on me, and I regret ever learning how to speak. The pounding in my head persists because Coach wanted to torture us with practice before we gathered in the media room for a mandatory meeting. The bright white of the rink had sent my headache doubling in pain. I don’t drink often, and my body never lets me forget when I do, so today was no exception. Everything was intensified including Kian's loud voice that spewed paranoia about why Coach called a meeting. The kid woke up with grass stains on his body and still wondered what was happening.
When Coach Kilner entered he was fuming, his pale skin glowing red. He even knocked the hats off the junior’s heads, who immediately cowered to the back row, and I began regretting my decision to sit up front. Kian and Dylan were way in the back too, hiding behind our goalies.
“A fucking party that trashed campus?” Coach yelled and suddenly everything made sense. “Is this a fucking joke to all of you? Never in my twenty-five years of coaching have I had to deal with this kind of blatant disregard for the school code of conduct.”
That part wasn’t all true. I know for a fact that Brady Winston, the captain from the year before mine, threw a house party that landed a year-long ban on Greek row. The dean’s car went missing, the swim team's pool was trashed, and all extra-circulars were canceled. So, I’m pretty sure trashing the campus and vandalizing the monument of Sir Davis Dalton isn’t the worst thing to happen to the school.
“When I became a coach after years in the league,” Coach started as Devon muttered,Here we gobeside me. “Never did I think I would be giving my senior players a lecture on throwing parties.”
“Coach the party—”
“Shut it, Donovan,” Kilner scolded. “We are in the fucking qualifiers that will get us to the Frozen Four and you are messing around with other colleges. At this stage?”
“Yale came here. Shouldn’t they be getting the brunt of this?” asked Tyler Sampson, our alternate captain, and one of the smartest guys on the team. He’s headed to law school instead of following in his hockey superstar father’s footsteps.
“They are not my problem, you idiots are! I should have every single one of you suspended,” he says, rage pouring out of his sweat-covered forehead.
“But then we wouldn’t be able to play the Frozen Four.” Kian’s chiming in didn’t help the rest of that speech and now he’s stuck with laundry duty for a month. It was originally a week but Kian kept protesting, and everyone knows if Coach gives you a punishment you shut your trap and take it.
After that, no one interrupted, except when I opened my big mouth to incriminate myself.
“What do you mean?” Coach asks, staring daggers at me now. I’ve seen that sharp glare too many times, and it should scare me enough to sit my ass back down, but I don’t.
“I’m the one who threw the party.”
Eli curses behind me, but he doesn’t say anything else, because he knows when I make a decision there’s nothing anyone can say to talk me out of it.
Coach runs a hand over his mouth, muttering something under his breath. Most likely about how much of a dumbass I am, and I’d have to agree. “This is how you wanna play it, Crawford? You sure it wasn’t a collective mistake?”
He’s giving me an out. More out of desperation than anything because when the school gets wind of this, I will be punished. My only hope in putting myself on the line is that they’ll check my academic standing and my hockey career before shelling out anything too severe. My fate will be better than anyone else’s on this team.
“It was all me. I let Yale attend.”
