Page 125 of Arrogant Puck

Slater: We need to talk

FUCK YOU: I have a game tonight

FUCK YOU: Pauley Pavilion

Perfect. UCLA. I know exactly where that is.

Slater: I’ll see you then

I clench my phone, so fucking happy this idiot took the bait. I sit back and wait for boarding, my nerves running high. I need to pull this off without getting caught, without ruining my career, without leaving any evidence that could trace back to me or Sage.

When I board the plane, I text Sage that I’ve arrived safely, then switch back to the burner. The flight to California feels endless, but it gives me time to plan every detail of what’s about to happen.

When we land, I stop sharing my location with him. Me and the team head straight to our hotel to prep for tonight’s game. The coaches shove a stack of papers at me—plays I’ve missed during my week of absence.

“Study these,” Coach barks. “You’re already behind.”

The game is brutal, but it’s exactly what I need. I get thrown in the penalty box more than I should, knocking guys on their asses when it’s completely unnecessary. The referees are getting pissed, but I don’t give a shit. I’ve got pent-up rage coursing through my veins, and this is the perfect release before what I have to do later.

After we win, the team heads back to the hotel bus. I grab my bag but don’t get on.

“Where are you going, Castellano?” Coach calls out.

“Got an old friend I want to see while I’m in town,” I lie smoothly. “I’ll be back at the hotel later.”

Coach gives me a warning look. “No drinking. No trouble.”

“Scout’s honor,” I say, throwing my gear bag on the bus.

The Uber I called is already waiting. I’m wearing all black—disposable clothes I bought specifically for tonight, just in case there are blood stains. Can’t have any evidence linking back to me.

As we drive toward UCLA, I pull out the burner phone.

Slater: Share your location so I can find you

FUCK YOU: Are you here?

Slater: Almost

FUCK YOU: Shares location

Slater: Shares location

FUCK YOU: Meet me at my car.

I stare at the text. His car? For what, a quick fuck? This piece of shit really thinks Sage is coming to him willingly after all his threatening texts. The delusion would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking sick.

I need to lure him away from the parking lot where there might be witnesses. Somewhere more isolated where I can have a proper conversation with him.

When the Uber drops me off, I check his location. He’s in the main parking lot, but I’m on the opposite side of campus. Perfect.

Slater: Locker room

FUCK YOU: I’m in the parking lot

Slater: I’m not. I’m on the opposite side

FUCK YOU: Can’t meet in the locker room. You can’t get in.

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