Page 39 of Gross Misconduct

“It’s getting patched up this month.”

“You said that last month.”

“Well, I mean it this month.” Leo has the slicked back hair and polished look of a politician, which makes sense since he’s Sourwood’s mayor. But today he’s here with his dad hat on to cheer on his son Ari, another one of Brody’s quiz bowl teammates.

“So who’s pissing you off?” Derek leans back in his chair, likely tired from another long shift at the firehouse.

Hank leans over me. “Take a wild friggin’ guess.”

“Jack Gross?” Derek arches a skeptical eyebrow.

“He violated the sacred rules of hockey,” I say, though nobody seems to believe me. “And he’s a ringer.”

“You got a ringer on your team?” Leo asks.

“Not our team. We play by the rules. It’s the Blades. They have a professional hockey player in their ranks.” I sit back, crossing my arms. “A professional hockey player who insists on pranking players before an actual game, not during practice.”

“His dad is Ted Gross,” Hank informs them. “The guy who…” He points to my eye patch. I swat his hand away.

“Shit,” Leo says. “And now you’re playing his son, who’s a pro hockey player?”

“A former pro hockey player,” I say. “He wants to take a break from buying buildings and jet-setting to play in our league.”

“Yep. He’s in your head, he ain’t paying rent, and he’s never leaving.” Hank snorts to himself.

“Hank, I remember what your locker used to be here. I will find a way to shove you back into it.”

“The whole Blades team is good,” Derek says. “I went to their game. They trounced the Matterhorns.”

“Maybe Jack is teaching them his professional secrets,” Hank says.

“Which would be another violation of league rules,” I point out.

“Were you always this much of a stickler for rules? Just relax.” Derek shrugs.

Hank shushes us when the moderator steps onto the stage. She wears a blazer and pencil skirt to go with her serious expression. She kindly explains the game rules. Hank makes the wrap it up hand gesture to us, no doubt because this is not his first quiz bowl rodeo. We go quiet as she jumps into asking the first question:

“Protons and neutrons are made up of this subatomic particle.”

Brody buzzes in. “Quarks.”

“Yes! Let’s go!” Hank cheers.

“Correct,” the moderator says, eyeing Hank. “Next question. SB is the symbol for this element on the periodic table.”

Brody hits his buzzer again. “Antimony.”

“Correct,” she says again, betraying no expression.

“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Hank yells.

The moderator stops mid-question. Amos sits off to the side, his face as red as the Skittle in his mouth. Brody motions for him to take it down a notch.

“Sorry,” Hank says. He watches with rapt with attention, a gigantic smile on his face. The world of hockey is the furthest thing from his mind.

Jolene and Ari get buzzer time throughout the competition, but Brody is obviously the star of his team. Each time he gets an answer right, Hank lets out a “yes.” He keeps looking over at me in amazement, wondering if I’m as floored by his son’s intelligence as he is.

At the end of the round, South Rock High is way out in front. Leo leans over, the wheels spinning in his head.

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