Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“You’re the only business major on the team. Haven’t you taken a class on this shit or something?” Landon asks.
“We all took a class on this,” I mutter. “But if I recall, you assholes slept through Ethics in Sports.”
Calhoun chuckles. “I sleep through most of my classes. Is a scavenger hunt hazing?”
I take a deep breath. Maybe the sooner I put an end to his evening, the sooner I can get away from Landon. Being around him makes it hard to think.
“It’s hazing,” I confirm.
“Bullshit,” Silas argues.
“It’s subtle hazing, which is a literal category according to the law.”
“No one is going to get hurt,” Calhoun mutters.
“That doesn’t matter. It’s still considered hazing if only a certain part of the group is required to perform tasks. In this case, that’s the freshmen.”
A slow smile spreads across Landon’s face. “Malcom, you can do it to.”
John Malcom opens his mouth to argue.
“And before you ask, need I remind you about missing that ground ball in our game against Oklahoma last season.”
Malcom frowns, but he doesn’t argue.
“Jones didn’t hit one fucking ball last season. He should have to do it too,” Silas adds.
“No,” Landon argues. “His shoulder is still healing.”
Jones holds his slinged arm up a little.
“You overthrew to Fawkes in game one with Nebraska,” the cocky freshman reminds everyone.
Landon huffs a laugh, a gleam in his eye from being called out.
We spend the next several minutes recounting all the fuckups until we’re left with the understanding that everyone but Jones has to participate in the scavenger hunt. It’s a fine line on whether this would still be considered hazing, but it’s definitely safer than when we started.
“I came up with all of this shit,” Calhoun argues when someone points out his numerous mistakes last season. “Plus, that’s five teams of two since I only have five cards.”
He holds them up, fanned out as if he has to prove that he only made one extra.
“Besides, I’ll just cheat and win.”
“What do we win?” one of the freshmen asks, speaking for the very first time.
Those of us who have been here before tonight turn to look at him like the idiot he is until he takes a step back and drops his eyes.
We don’t reward his stupidity with an answer, which is nothing. Welcome Night is nothing more than determining whether the incoming freshmen have the mettle it requires to be a true teammate, not that any form of hazing can really do that, but like Landon said earlier, it’s tradition.
“Team up,” Calhoun urges.
In an effort to avoid spending any more time with Landon until I can get my head on right, I step forward toward one of the freshmen, but Landon grabs my arm.
“You’re with me.”
I look to Silas, knowing he’s going to question this sudden change from enemies to friends only to find the guy stepping up to Tyler instead of looking in our direction.
“That’s his cousin,” Landon explains.
“Now listen up,” Calhoun snaps. “The rules are simple. You can’t use a car tonight. You can’t purchase anything to satisfy the tasks.”
We wait for him to say more, but he starts passing out the cards, handing ours to Landon.
“The first pair back here with all tasks completed wins. Go!”
The four other pairs dart into the night as I try to look over Landon’s shoulder to see what Calhoun came up with.
It can’t be any worse than the bugs we had to eat our freshmen year, or swimming in what, still to this very day, I’m certain was alligator-infested waters.
Calhoun starts to chat with Jones, and I follow Landon off the field.
“What’s the first thing?”
“Acquire a weird looking animal,” Landon says, handing the card to me.
I use the flashlight on my cell phone to read down the list as we walk.
“Acquire? Jesus, someone is going to end up in jail tonight,” I mutter.
“This way,” Landon says, his hand on my forearm feeling like fire as he directs me toward town instead of the direction I was walking.
Maybe jail is a better solution than the other possibilities of what tonight might hold.
Chapter 21
Landon
“It’s weird,” I whisper, the darkness surrounding us as we walk, making me brave.
“What’s that?” Rick asks, his eyes straight ahead.
We’re walking side by side, and although I hate the space between us, I understand it.
Silas is already questioning the easiness between the two of us.
I also know that the darkness doesn’t provide the level of privacy I want to think it does. Anyone could be lurking around, and slinging my arm over Rick’s shoulder, or pressing my lips to his like I really want to do, could be witnessed easily.
“You don’t realize how infrequently you do something until things shift and you can’t stop doing it.”
His brows crinkle, the streetlights of the approaching downtown area, if you can even call the tidy row of buildings downtown, casts shadows on his face.