Coach Lowe takes notes while I talk and Jack stares woodenly at something behind Coach Lowe’s head. When I finish, Coach Lowe presses a button. A girlish voice answers, but I can’t make out exactly what she says.
“Stella, is Ace in the treatment room? When he’s done, tell him to come in here.” He cuts off the connection before Stella responds. His next call is to Brian Newsome, a name I recall that Knox brought up before. He’s the associate director for football student services, but I didn’t know exactly what he did. “Brian, I need you to come down and talk to me about a student issue.”
Brian responds that he’ll be there in five minutes.
Once done making calls, Coach Lowe addresses Jack again. “What happened to your tutor for the class?”
Jack’s cheeks turn a dull red. “She wasn’t real helpful.”
He doesn’t want to get the tutor in trouble.
Coach Lowe harrumphs. He’s fairly insightful and can probably guess the problem from Jack’s lack of words. We don’t exchange any more words until there’s a knock at the door.
“If that’s you, Ace or Newsome, come in. Anyone else, get your ass out of here.”
The door opens and Ace’s face appears. Behind him a trim, eyeglass-wearing man in his mid-forties enters the room and closes the door behind him. He must be Brian Newsome. In one hand he has a coffee cup and the other a notepad. He takes a seat on the sofa. Ace leans against the door, a worried look on his face.
Coach Lowe sketches out the issues without any preliminaries. “Campbell here is in academic trouble. His sister has done work for him, none of it graded, but inappropriate anyway. Campbell feels like he won’t pass a class—what’s it called?”
“Politics and Games,” Jack answers.
Brian lets out a low whistle. “That’s a very difficult class. How’d you end up in it if you aren’t a political science major?”
“I needed an elective and the student liaison assigned to me said it was math heavy and fun.”
Coach Lowe points a finger at Brian. “Get the name of that person and find out if he or she is gaslighting my players. Also get a list of our tutors for that class. Seems we have a jersey chaser on the list.”
Jack shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He doesn’t like for anyone to get in trouble over his issues. I only want to protect Jack and Knox.
Coach Lowe turns his attention to Ace. “Jack Campbell was on your list. What happened?”
Ace and I exchange a look because we both know that Jack somehow got on Knox’s list. I don’t know what Knox and Ace’s relationship is. The offense and defense don’t mix a lot. Different mindsets and personalities.
“I said that I would check up on Jack.” I don’t say whom I told that too. Jack scowls at being treated like a child. God, this is so awful. I want this to be over five minutes ago. “Obviously I did that because I didn’t want anyone to know about my behavior and how it would adversely affect the team. I pretty much threw a fit about it.” The words are as much for Ace as any one. I don’t want Knox suffering repercussions for my actions, I silently tell Ace, but I can’t tell by his expressionless face whether he’s getting it.
“That true?” Coach Lowe asks.
Ace pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek but nods. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
None of us are lying, exactly, but we aren’t telling the whole truth either. For his own reasons—none of which I know—Ace will back me up here. Jack raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise but keeps his own mouth shut.
Coach Lowe heaves a big sigh. “Here’s what’ll happen. Brian will take you, Jack, to student services or whatever it’s called, and get you tested. Brian, how long will it take?”
“A couple of days, maybe a week at the most.”
“Have it take a couple of days.” He points the tip of his pen at Jack. “We’re putting you on academic probation until the results of those tests come out. If they show you have a learning disability, then we can do stuff for you. Right, Brian?”
“That’s right. If you have a reading or writing disability, Western allows for reasonable accommodations. Those can include oral examinations instead of written ones. Take home tests instead of in-class tests and any other services deemed reasonable and necessary by the administration.” He rattles off a few more ways that Jack can get help, none of which make him feel any better.
“Will I be able to work out with the team?”
“Work out, yes. Play, no.” Coach Lowe levels a hard look at Jack. “If you had come to me sooner, we might not have had to suspend you, but this late in the year it’s safer for the program.”
Meaning any wins that they have won’t get jeopardized by Jack’s academic standing.
“It’s my f—” I start to say again but Coach Lowe cuts me off with a swift slash of the pen.
“And for you, Miss Campbell, starting tomorrow morning you are hereby banned from the Western State football team. I don’t want to see you within fifty feet of anyone wearing a football jersey. If one of them is in your class, you sit as far away as possible. You don’t talk to them. You don’t smile at them. You don’t even breathe the same air as them. You got that?”
I nod. My own cheeks flush red hot with shame as if I’d gotten caught by Coach Lowe having sex with Knox in the locker room.
“If I see you near any player, I’ll kick that player and your brother off the team. I don’t care if it’s Knox Masters or Ace here. Their continuing ability to play depends on you, Ms. Campbell.”
I gasp when the full impact of the ban hits me. I’m supposed to cook dinner for Knox’s brother this Friday.
“What about Jack? He is her brother,” Ace points out.
“Obviously I can’t prevent you from spending time with your family, but on campus, keep it as minimal as possible.”
“So the ban is all players but her family,” Ace presses. I glare at him to shut up before he gets himself in trouble.
Coach Lowe narrows his eyes at Ace but says tersely. “Family is exempt.” He turns away from Ace, done with him.
Jack opens his mouth to protest but Coach Lowe doesn’t want to hear from him either. “You want to stay on this team, you play by my rules. Your sister is a problem and you need to excise problems from your life if they affect your play.”
“With all due respect, sir, my sister has only ever wanted to help me. She’s not the problem. I am for not facing up to my issues before. I never wanted to admit I might have a learning disability. I don’t like it much now either. But it’s there and I’ll do that testing, but Ellie has only ever wanted to help.”
“That’s a nice speech,” Coach Lowe replies coldly. “But this is my team and my rules. You want to play, you’ll have to abide by the punishment I send down.” He points his pen at me again. “I don’t want either of you telling the players about this. I’m not the bad guy here.”
I can see it’s on Jack’s tongue to protest. I catch his arm. “Please,” I beg softly. “If you get kicked off the team, I’ll be sick with guilt for the rest of my life. Please let’s take our lumps. Otherwise I’ll never look at myself again without utter loathing.”
Jack’s face hardens from regret to resolve. With a short nod, he turns to Coach Lowe. “Okay. I want to play.”
Coach Lowe waves his hand. “Get out of here. You’ve all got stuff to do. Ace, how’s the arm.”
“Good, sir. Feels good.”
“Keep icing it.”
“Plan to.”
30 Ellie
I wait until we’re out of earshot of Coach Lowe’s office before spinning on Ace. “Do you think he’ll kick Masters off the team?”
“Maybe not. But he’d probably pull his support for Masters going pro after this season. I wouldn’t test Coach.” Ace walks off, presumably to continue icing his arm.
“What will you do?” Jack asks. “Text him?
I rear back. “No. I won’t break up with him via text. Is Coach Lowe bugging the phones? I'm calling him.” No way I would do it so cold heartedly.