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I snort out a laugh and nod my head. “Hit me,” I joke. No doubt this is gossip based, but I'm betting it’s nothing too good seeing as how this is the first day of our senior year in college. There hasn’t been time for anything exciting to happen with our group since a lot of people only arrived back in town over the last few days.
Since I spent the majority of the last eight weeks camped out on the couch at home trying to get over a broken heart, I’ve been pretty oblivious. Not anymore, though. As of today, I’ve officially pulled my head out of my ass, and I am going to get back into the swing of things. No more sad sack me. From now on, it’s all going to be positive.
“Coach Adams got fired. F-I-R-E-D fired,” Becky announces dramatically.
My brows shoot up as I take in the information. Coach Adams has been the head coach of the Tigers for the last thirty years. In this town, he is to football as God is to earth. There’s a freaking statue of him out in the front quad for goodness sake, and each year theres a parade in his honor after the last game of the season. In the three seasons I’ve been a cheerleader for the university I’ve never heard anything less than reverential about him, which honestly has always struck me as a bit weird. Personally, Ive always found him a bit pompous and a lot stiff, but that’s just me.
Football is a serious money maker here. Having a Division I football team and an award-winning cheerleading squad is a big deal at the university, and Coach Adams's high profile got the football team and the cheer squad a lot of money for equipment and travel. Whether he’s the warmest guy in the world or not, he’s like a religion in this town and on this campus. I can’t imagine the athletic department without him at the helm.
The more I think it over, the easier it is to conclude that Becky is wrong. There’s no way Coach Adams is gone. I’m pretty confident he could run around the quad naked, and no one would say a word.
“Wait a minute,” I say, my tone dripping with suspicion. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”
Becky shakes her head. “No,” she whispers emphatically. “He had an affair with a student last year and then dumped them during the summer. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’s slept with a student—but it was the first time the student he dumped had pictures and video to share with the administration. It was also the first time Coach Adams was dumb enough to have had an affair with someone who comes from a family full of major donors to the university. Even though technically the student is now an alumnus, it’s provable that the affair took place over the course of their senior year.”
It’s the juiciest thing to happen at our school since ever. I’m shocked but also endlessly curious about who Coach Adams had an affair with. “Shut. Up,” I whisper-squeak. “Does anyone know who the student was?”
When Becky’s eyes light up as she grins like a Cheshire Cat I can tell she’s been waiting for this very question. “That shitty little ass-grabber, Michael. Freaking. Simmons.”
Swear, my eyes bulge out of my head for like four seconds. Maybe even five. My brain rejects her assertion in the most definitive of ways. Michael Simmons was one of the biggest douchebags on campus. He graduated last year, but for the three years he was on campus when I was, he managed to hit on or have sex with every girl I know. “There’s no way—”
“Bible, this is the truth,” Becky assures me. “I thought everything you’re thinking right now when I found out. Captain of the football team, future president, Mr. Never-Without-a-Girl-on-His-Arm and voted Most Likely to Have Five Wives is at least bi, if not gay. To say he hid it well is an understatement.”
“How is no one talking about this on Facebook or Snapchat? Both are like gossip central to this school,” I point out.
“It’s because the whole thing is just starting to leak out now. By later tonight, social media and the entire campus will be on fire with gossip since we’ll all be getting read the riot act this afternoon. A lot of this was covered in Julia's email, which you really should have read on general principle alone considering she’s your coach,” she says dryly.
I give a sheepish shrug because it’s not like I can argue the point. She’s right.
“Anyway,” Becky continues, “the staff found out in waves. Julia was told to be on campus two weeks ago for an official meeting of the athletic department. She said she knew right away that calling her in before the school year even started meant something was up, and she wasn’t wrong. Once she and the other team coaches had the info, they were sworn to secrecy. Some of what I know didn’t get covered in the email, but since shes my cousin, I leaned on her until she gave up what she could.”
