Page 11

“It’s a mixed bag. Your showboating went down a hit. You running into the fire after the girl, not so much.” Casting a glance out of the window, I nod and effectively dismiss him. I barely touch the pastries he brought me, sipping the hot coffee whilst trying to settle my racing thoughts.

I wish my life was as easy as everyone thinks it is. That I could be the shallow jock they all see, showboating because I feel like top dog rather than putting on a show because my father’s holding the leash. I’m supposed to have it all, yet I’m failing to grasp anything or hold onto anyone I want to keep close.

Eventually, when my hunger has subsided enough to sustain me, I shower and dress, tug on a black leather jacket and head out. Danny and Samson are sitting idle in a black truck, but I wave off their offer of a ride. After yesterday, the fresh air will do me some good. I’m used to feeling suffocated by those around me, but the past twenty-four hours of being watched, judged, poked, and prodded have pushed me to my limit. Every step loosens the tightness in my chest, yet every thought chases me across campus.

How many fucking times does that stadium have to be the backdrop of Meg’s trauma? I can try to placate myself that at least I was there this time, at least I did something, if only that something didn’t cause the fire to begin with. I’m furious with Cody, but not wholly unsurprised. He’s always been jealous of my fascination with Meg, but I didn’t expect him to go this far. Was she the target or an unfortunate casualty? I’ll have to face him later, but for now, damage control is all I have bandwidth for. Keeping my dad off our backs for another day.

All too soon, my hand raps on Dean Colt’s door, and she swings it open, her expression grave. Taking a sweeping glance at my bruised throat, she gestures for me to enter and take a seat. Her office is exactly as it always is. Dark wood, old leather, shelves lined with awards, framed photographs, and school crests. Amongst the trophies, my last name is splayed numerous times, and not all because of my achievements. My father’s face sits center stage in a grayed alumni photograph on the mantel.

“You should still be resting,” the Dean comments as she rounds her desk, although her concern is only for show. I can practically see the Calloway Care Checklist flash before her brown eyes, a tick marking off ‘considered wellbeing.’

“What’s the official line?” I cut to the chase, trying not to crack my neck. Resuming business mode requires a straight spine and poised expression. Tapping on her tablet, Dean Colt reads out a statement that’s been prepared for her.

“The fire is still being investigated as suspicious. As Dean, I will personally oversee student discipline internally, should any be required. Both the governing board and public services will demonstrate cooperation until a resolution is determined. Repairs on the stadium will be evaluated later on today, and the Calloway family have generously offered to fund the repairs needed.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I exhale slowly. The Dean waits for me to process, for my breathing to even out and my eyes to glaze over with the professionalism that’s been drilled into me over the years. Then, with a small frown, she sets her tablet aside.

“Not as your Dean, but as your friend’s mom, how can I help?” I snort at that. I don’t have friends, I have minions, and to keep everyone from learning my secrets, that’s the way it has to be. I have to protect Cody, I have to hide who I truly am.

Not even Dean Colt knows how deep our family ties run, believing Cody to be the disappointment that the rest of the world sees. The kid who rode his mom’s coattails into an influential family and would never conform to our way of life. He’s the weed-smoking emo nepo-baby cliché, too much money and not enough devotion. If only they knew he is wholly devoted - to me. My chest clenches, but I shove that thought aside. I need to focus now, break down later.

“I mean it, Everest. I’ll do what I can. I know the pressures your family put you under,” Dean Colt pushes. I realize then that I never answered her, my gaze drifting towards the window.

Students will be drifting towards the cafeteria, indulging in coffee and gossip. If only they knew I hated each and every one of them who cheered on Meg’s humiliation. I’m being squashed under a thumb of expectation, but they’re the audience. They’re the bloodsuckers who feed my father’s power.

What I’d give for a way to protect her without being too obvious, without breaking character from this version of myself. I don’t even remember what I was like before, but Cody seems to still see that person in me. Or at least, before I asked to send him into the rehab clinic, he used to. Crown me the king of self-fucking-sabotage. Swallowing, I bring my focus back to the portly woman still staring at me.

“How is Meg?”

“She discharged herself from the ambulance, refused medical treatment,” the Dean’s mouth presses into a hard line, whereas I smile. Typical, stubborn Meg. My smile dies just as quickly as I subconsciously crack my knuckles.

Protection. That’s all I’m thinking about. Protect Meg, protect Cody, protect myself. Be the perfect poster child. Carry the Calloway name with pride. Smile for the cameras. Win the games. Don’t be an embarrassment, don’t cost Cody his shot at freedom, don’t let Meg slip between my fingers again.

All of a sudden, an idea hits me like a hammer to the chest, and I physically gasp. Dean Colt straightens, her eyes dancing with genuine worry now, but I’m starting to smile again. I know the answer to all of my problems, and it’s so simple.

“Will you genuinely help if you can?” I ask, and the Dean nods in earnest. Puffing out my chest, I stare directly into her brown eyes, leaving no room for confusion. “Propose a co-captain arrangement. No, actually, demand it. Make up something about the board and the fund. Meg and I will have unified training and shared responsibility across both teams.”

“You want to share control of lacrosse with Miss O’Connor?” Dean Colt sits back slowly, suspicion setting into her features. I hold her gaze, even though ‘want’ doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling. I want Meg furious and alive. I want Cody to look at me without seeing betrayal. I want my father nowhere near anyone I care about. I want a lot of things, and control is the only tool I have left in my arsenal.

“I want to avoid another public incident,” I settle on instead. “The academy will have stability, my family will have discretion, and Meg gets a way back into social standing without being treated like a charity case. Everyone wins.” Dean Colt watches me for a long moment, her head tilting to the side.

“And what do you win, Everest?” I hold the Dean’s stare with the hope she can’t see me cracking underneath.

“I get the trophies. I get to be victorious.” I shrug, sitting back in the armchair. Lies. It’s all lies. I couldn’t give a fuck about lacrosse tournaments, that’s why my own male team dropped out of the league. Despite my father’s ongoing frustrations, I was too busy watching Meg climb the ranks rather than care for my own. This way, he can be sated that I’m finally on the winning team, and I’ll finally be in close proximity to her, able to watch without being obvious. Able to keep her safe, like I should have been doing the night she was taken. Dean Colt taps one finger against the edge of her desk.

“Miss O’Connor may not agree.”

“Oh, she absolutely won’t, but you can’t give her any other option. And you can’t tell her this has anything to do with me.” At the Dean’s hesitation, I scrub a hand through my hair, trying to play down how much I need this. A thread of hope to cling to that I haven’t lost everything for no valid reason. “You know what will happen if she doesn’t step back onto that field as a captain. Every student with a phone will turn her every movement into content. Every player who she once taught will resent her for not returning. Every failure becomes more proof that she’s broken. We both know she is far too talented and special to let it all slide.”

As the Dean continues to search my expression for an underlying ploy, I turn my face slightly, looking toward the window as my throat works. I’m in way over my head, struggling to find clarity through the pounding of my pulse in my ears. Why can’t I have this? Why can’t I get the chance to be near her, to help rebuild her? After everything I’ve done to motivate her, who says I don’t get to be the hero, even if she’ll never know it? Eventually, the Dean pushes to her feet and sighs.

“Okay, well she’ll be along soon. You should probably be on your way.” My eyes shoot up to the Dean’s face.

“She’s coming here?” I raise a brow. Cracking another knuckle, I settle my hands into my lap. “I’ll stay.” There’s no use arguing, and thankfully, the Dean seems to sense that. Instead, we wait in a stilted silence.

I know that every decision I make is pushing Cody further away, shredding what we had to dust, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m torn in so many directions, I’m playing so many roles, and there’s nothing I can do in any of them, until now. Yesterday, I was content to live in the lie that I hated Meg as much as she hates me. Today, with smoke still rough in my lungs and exhaustion dragging my thoughts through the fog in my brain, I’m done pretending. Before long, the intercom buzzes.

My body reacts before my face does, spine tightening, pulse shifting, every tired nerve ending waking up with a sense of urgency. I force myself to settle deeper into the chair, stretching my legs out in front of me. Dean Colt approaches the door, welcomes Meg, and I sense the exact moment she spots me. I don’t turn to look at her right away. Instead, I let her irritation roll off the leather on my back.