Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
The room is silent as Principal Kane glares across his desk at us, with Vice Principal Owens, Waverley’s mom, standing next to him looking just as pissed.
But trust me, the one’s the most pissed at us right now?
…Ourselves.
I know we’re all feeling it. And yeah, I know there was no way we could have just walked away from a qualifier game like that and fucked the season for every other guy on the team, but seeing that hurt in Zara’s eyes? Fuck, that cut deep.
“Gentleman I don’t even know where to begin with this shit-show,” Principal Kane growls, rapping his knuckles on the table. He’s a stern looking dude, with sharp, cool blue eyes and silver in his dark hair at the temples.
“Sir, we—”
“Stop,” he growls, shaking his head. “Whatever you’re about to try and appease me with, Anders, save it.”
Vice Principal Owens sighs, her eyes narrowing at us as she crosses her arms.
“Boys, this goes a little past ‘antics’ or a prank, or the usual crap that this school regrettably lets athletes get away with sometimes. You understand that this is serious.”
“We do, ma’am,” I growl quietly.
Principal Kane clears his throat. “Well, needless to say, you’re all going to be sus—”
The door to his office bangs open as Coach Stokes barges in.
“Colton,” he growls at Principal Kane, shutting the door behind him.
“Ian, we’re in the middle of—”
“These are my guys, Colton.”
Principal Kane sighs heavily. “Ian, I understand that. And I understand that you’ve got a division championship next week, and I also understand what not having these three on the team might do for your chances of winning said division championship, but—”
“Colton, can you hear me out first?”
Principal Kane frowns. It’s pretty clear he’s not a guy who’s used to be cut off. But I also know he and Coach Stokes go way back.
“Fine,” he growls.
“Look, this is me calling in every damn favor I have with you, alright?” Coach Stokes scowls, stepping more into the room. “This isn’t even about the championship. Fuck it, bench ’em. But you need to know that they did right by this team and by this school today, at a big loss to themselves personally.”
He turns to us, eyeing us carefully as he nods slowly. “Gentleman, I won’t pretend to understand the nature of… well, the relationship you have with,” he clears his throat. “Well, you know what and who I’m talking about. I know it was a shit thing I made you do, but you did right, and you played hard, and I’m going to make this right.”
He turns back to Vice Principal Owens and Principle Kane.
“Skip the suspension.”
Vice Principal Owens opens her mouth, but Coach Stokes holds a hand up.
“Natasha, hang on.”
“Look, bench them for the championship game if you need. Give ’em community service or something. This isn’t about football right now, it’s about a commitment I made them break.”
Principal Kane frowns. “Commitment to what.”
Coach smiles as he chuckles. “A freakin’ battle of the bands.”
Principal Kane arches a brow as he and Natasha Owens glance at each other.
“You’re in a band?”
Coach grins. “They’re pretty damn good too.”
The three of us slowly turn to glance at him, brows raised in confusion.
“The Back Room over in Northstead is one of my favorite spots, fellas,” he says quietly with a wink.
The Back Room, in Northstead. As in, the bar where we played that first gig with Zara. The place where the owner is friends with my uncle. Slowly, I grin.
“Are you any good?” Principal Kane says with some amusement in his voice.
Anders shrugs. “Sort of. But Zara Bateman is the ringer.”
Principal Kane arches a brow. “You’re in a band with Zara Bateman?”
We all nod and he nods, glancing at Vice Principal Owens before he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Damnit,” he growls. “Okay, look. Ian, you’ll find them a suitable on-campus punishment. And I do mean suitable.” He glances at Natasha who shakes her head, looking a little peeved that we’re not being locked in solitary, but going along with it.
“Vice Principal Owens will be finding you some community service to do. A lot of it,” he growls at us. “I’m going to think over the game benching over the next few days.”
I blink, glancing at Carson and Anders.
“Wait, is that it?”
Anders and I both swear under our breath as I swiftly kick Carson in the shin.
“Shut the fuck up, man,” Anders hisses as Principal Kane grins quietly.
“That’s not ‘it’, Mr. Lafayette, but if you mean, am I suspending you, the answer is no.” His smile fades. “Unless you push it.”
Carson smiles, shaking his head. “No, sir.”
“Good. Now get.”
We all stand, actually buzzing a little as we shake hands with Principal Kane and Vice Principal Owens.
“Thanks, Colton,” Coach Stokes growls quietly, shaking his hand firmly.
“Yeah, well, you owe me,” he mutters back to our coach, who grins before he glances at us. “Alright, let’s go. Now.”