AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I pass by Taylor on my way to class, and she gives me a harsh glare. Can’t say I blame her; I was pissed at her and said some shit I shouldn’t have. I’m tired of being the only one of us trying to rekindle something between us, though, so she can just deal with it. Some harsh criticism may do her good.
After class, I join Braylon and the guys at lunch, giving myself space from Levi and the girls. Taylor stares at me the whole time, unabashedly, like she has something to prove or something to say. I sit down next to a girl named Sarah who’s always hanging around the hockey players. No doubt, her huge tits are what keep her at the table with us. I put my arm around her, and she giggles. She smells like cinnamon or fireball, making my nostrils sting.
I take my arm back and eat my burrito from the truck and my protein smoothie. Braylon talks trash about Chen the whole time, forgetting to mention how he crushed our next opponent this evening, Michigan. I finish my smoothie before walking to class early. Not that I’m eager to get started on statistics, but I am eager to reclaim my title as best center in the league tonight. The NCAA may have already overlooked us for the tournament, but it won’t stop me from doing what I do best.
…
When we board the bus to the airport, I sit next to Braylon instead of Levi this time. I’m sure he has some lecture for me about how I treated Taylor, and she’s the last thing I’m concerned about as we approach the terminal to the private sector. I also feel a small obligation to be buddy-buddy with Braylon as his dad is the most generous donor for the team.
I follow Braylon up the steps and pop another Xanax when nobody’s looking. The flight is way too short to take two, and I need my head in the game. Levi sits across from me, his arms folded and his earbuds in.
Copying him by putting my earbuds in too, I watch as the plane drives down the runaway and flies up into the sky. Takeoff is always a little shaky in these small planes.
“Take it easy,” Braylon jabs my ribs. I take an earbud out. “I said, take it easy man. Your knuckles are white from holding my armrest so tight.”
I release my grip, now that we’re steady in the air, and I give him a forced smile. He cackles as he leans his head back against the leather headrest. I dig around in my bag for some snacks to eat until we make an unsteady landing at the Detroit airport. When we land, I follow the team out to the shuttle waiting beside the plane. After boarding, I take a quick nap until we get there.
When I wake up, the whole team is turned around, staring at me. Coach is standing in the center of the aisle with his arms crossed. Apparently, we’re parked at the stadium. I sit up.
“Sorry, Coach, just resting,” I say. What the hell is going on? Levi’s eyes are huge, but he keeps his mouth shut. I look down at my sweatshirt, fix my hair check my teeth. What is nobody telling me?
“Everyone out, except Hayes,” Coach orders and the team grabs their bags, rushing out of the bus.
“Coach?” I say, sitting at the edge of the aisle seat. He takes a seat across from me, showing me his phone. I grab it, hesitantly and read the front line.
COLLEGE HOCKEY STAR ELIJAH HAYES DRUG ADDICTION?
I feel my throat tighten and my mouth go dry. I scroll through the article to see a picture of me in my bedroom. My own fucking bedroom, taking the Xanax. Is that this morning?
“What the fuck?” I say, rapidly scrolling through the article. It was posted when I was on the plane.Social media posts rumor that St. Paul Royals hockey star, Elijah Hayes, may be following in his father’s footsteps. Images of him taking an unknown drug, supposedly Xanax, have been leaked all over Twitter and Instagram.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” I scream. Coach takes his phone and backs up. I dig my hands into my hair, pulling at the roots until my scalp is screaming from the tension.
“This, Coach, this isn’t true,” I utter, feeling a panic attack come on. My heart beats fast, and I pace the aisle of the shuttle. “Not true, this isn’t true…” I say, feeling a swell of rage and frustration as my knees weaken.
“Hayes,” Coach says, his voice more tender than I’ve ever heard before. If he was in his right mind, he’d expel me and kick me from the team. After my five-minute penalty and letting a freshmen get to my head before a drug scandal. Who am I?
I go to my bag and pull out the Xanax, handing them to Coach. “They’re mine, Coach. They’re a prescription for PTSD.”
Coach grabs the bottle with a sigh. He pats my back as I blink back tears.
“I believe you, son. But I’m going to need you to stay out for this game until we can get to the bottom of this. You understand? I’ll have them fly you home, and we’ll go through the motions, y’know. Drug test, house check, school evaluations, doctors note. It could take a week or two, so just plan to wait for a bit and get some needed rest.” Coach walks up to the driver and whispers something in his ear. He stands by the door, looking at me with sorrow and confusion in his eyes. I sit down, unable to say anything as the door closes with him on the other side of it. The driver takes me back to Detroit airport for my ride home. I scroll through my phone, looking at all the tagged photos of me taking Xanax. Some are altered memes of me popping pills on the rink, others are the original photo of me in my room.
Sure, it’s possible someone put a camera in my room during the party, but odds are, this wasn’t the handywork of a stranger. My gut’s telling me it could’ve only been one person.
Fucking Taylor.
She’d have access to hide a camera in my room, and there’s no doubt she had motive to try and ruin me.
I board Braylon’s dad’s plane by myself, not even an hour after I just left it. The pilot luckily agreed to take me back after hearing about the scandal. How did this happen? I sit in the first row and close my eyes, trying hard not to see a resemblance of my fiery crash in my dream with how my life is now. Maybe my dreams were foreshadowing my imminent fall.
28
TAYLOR CROMWELL
It didn’t take me long to get evidence of Elijah Hayes’s drug addiction. Or so that’s what I’m writing on my social media post. He’ll finally experience the same devastation I’ve felt since the start of sophomore year. He’ll finally know what it feels like to be taken down a peg or two or three by his peers. I feel a rising hint of guilt as I look at the pictures on my phone.
I screenshotted him taking the pills right when I saw it and grabbed the camera from his room as soon as he left. Now I’m home and he’s on his way to Michigan, the perfect time to release the evidence. He can’t come running into my room to delete the pictures, he can’t stop the process now. I’m in too deep.
