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With a laugh, I added, “Did you bring any of the booze with you?”
A classic guilty glance bounced between each girl and another.
I sighed, “You may not have realized this, but you lot are awful liars, so I’m gonna take your faces as a big ‘yes’ to that question. Would anyone like to fess up?”
“It’s under the bench,” Riri blurted.
How had I even missed that? Man, they weren’t the only ones off their game.
“Go fetch it,” I replied.
She nodded anxiously, and scampered — well, tripped — across the field and to the bench, from where she retrieved an entire case of beer. My, my. At least they were serious drinkers, though even from across the field, I could see it was a shitty beer.
While she was busy toddling back, I said, “Sorry to confiscate it, but many of you are underage. Them’s the breaks.”
I felt like a real shitdick having to do that. Of course I’d had alcohol confiscated in my time, and naturally, I’d resented the hell out of whatever poor adult was stuck with the task of trying to discipline me. But it was one thing to let them off without a punishment, and another to let a bunch of minors under my supervision get wasted — though in London, mind you, they’d all be legal-age adults. Still, while in America, I had to try to abide by even the most outdated laws.
Riri finally brought the beer back to our loose semi-circle and deposited it in the center, as though it were an animal sacrifice.
We all stared at it for a moment, and then when our focus began to feel a bit too pagan, I broke the silence with, “You’re all free to go.”
Sharon-Ann timidly asked, “What’s our punishment?”
Oh, right. Punishment. I thought about it for a moment, then replied, “There’s not gonna be any punishment this time.”
The girls began to whisper to one another in shock and glee, but I shushed them.
“Now, that’s not to say that the next few practices will be easy,” I hedged, “but there won’t be huge consequences. The hangovers you’ll have will be punishment enough. All that in mind — the pranks and shenanigans are done. You’ve had your fun with me, but the hazing ends here. Deal?”
They nodded in unison. Something about the sincerity of my speech must have truly chagrined them, because they looked legitimately guilty for taking advantage of my good nature.
“All right, dismissed,” I said.
As they stumbled off field, I called out, “Catya?”
She whirled around to face me, and I beckoned her back over. She traipsed back and drew to a halt, until the lone case of beer was the only thing between us. Her tan skin was flushed with liquor and her lips quivered. I swallowed, reminding myself that not only could we absolutely not be together, but that thinking about her like that, right now, while she was drunk, was so morally decayed it defied description.
“Can you stay for a moment?” I asked politely.
Her words slurred as she replied, “Simon, I can stay for however long you want.”
Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? Was she drunk, or were these her true feelings? I had to talk to her, but God, she was not going to make it easy.
Chapter 14
Catya
I was fucked.
Simon was going to hamstring me, I just knew it. He’d been tough but fair in front of the other girls, but why else would he ask me to stay, if not to verbally berate me for what was, admittedly, a really bad decision? The teacher’s pet in me wasn’t prepared for the scolding, sure, but that wasn’t the upsetting part, if I was being honest — it was the thought that Simon might be disappointed in me.
And was he going to comment on the crotch grab? This promised to be a truly painful encounter.
My hands clenched in fists, nails digging into the soft skin to keep me from crying. I steadied myself for whatever was coming next.
So you can imagine my surprise when, without warning, Simon knelt down. For a wild second, I thought he was about to propose. What can I say? My drunk brain is a mess.
Instead, he tore open the cardboard container surrounding the beer, reached a long hand inside the box, and pulled out a single can.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Wow, I’d really disposed of all niceties.
He didn’t seem to mind. “Having a drink, if that’s all right with you,” Simon replied.
It’d be pretty damn hypocritical if I denied him that, so I said, “Um, no. No, go for it, of course. That’s… not a problem.”
He stood up, cracked open the can, took a long sip, then sighed.
“This is piss,” he commented, in a casual tone that didn’t match the judgment of his words.
“I know.” He was right, though in our defense, we were college students and couldn’t afford better than piss.
