Page 69 of Saving Barrette

Me? Today? I’m none of that. I’m anything but that stereotypical quarterback. Football has always made me feel alive, but now, in my anger, I’ve never felt so distraught and alone.

I knew when Barrette went to the police both our lives would never be the same. What I didn’t expect was for Roman to react this way. Actually, I knew he would. I just hoped he wouldn’t.

Coach looks at me, then Terrell, then Roman and the rest of the fifteen members of the team who were involved in the argument outside Smith Hall. “Someone better start talking or you’re all suspended from the team. I’ll start fourth string if I have to just to prove my fucking point that this childish behavior will not be tolerated on this team.” Coach Benning looks to me, then Roman and Terrell. “I mean it. What the fuck happened?”

Commotion takes over and everyone is talking but me. With my hands in my pockets to hide the shaking, I remain livid and uncontrolled, ready to turn into a complete maniac and slam Roman’s head against the desk until he admits what he did.

Coach silences the room. “That’s enough!”

Stepping forward, Roman clears his throat. “Just a misunderstanding, sir.”

This is where I snap. I can’t take it any longer. “Bullshit it was,” I bark, refusing to let him get away with this. I don’t care what the risk is.

That starts another argument before Coach grips the edge of his desk and flips it over in front of us. Playbooks, pictures, his UW mug filled with coffee crashes to the floor in front of us. “Enough! Everyone out. Lawson and Winslow, you stay.”

“Can’t I stay?” Terrell teases, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t wanna miss all the fun.”

Coach drills him with a death glare. “Get the fuck out.”

He does and Coach turns to look at me, and then Roman. “I’ve had enough of your shit so both of you better start talking. What’s this I hear about rape?”

My eyes snap to Roman’s, waiting for the lie, only he doesn’t say a damn thing. He just stares at the ground like it’s going to answer for him. Well, if he’s not going to say anything I might as well. “Roman raped my girlfriend.”

“No charges have been filed,” he spits out with a venomous edge toward me.

Our eyes lock, mine betrayed, his controlled. “Yet. No charges have been filed yet, but they will.”

“Oh my God,” Coach sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. Letting out a sigh, he points to the door. “Winslow, wait in the hall. I’ll be talking to you in a minute.”

He grumbles something, slams the door and then I’m left alone with Coach. It’s then that I feel something like a kid in trouble, my anger is still very much present and taking over.

“Listen to me, Asa. I understand you’re angry, and by the sounds of it, you have every right to be.” He takes a breath before his intimidating stare moves to mine. “With that being said, you’re the captain and you need to control the team,” Coach yells, the veins in his neck protruding. Look at him. It looks like he’s going to have a heart attack. “You’re a leader whether you like it or not, and I expect you to portray yourself as one, on and off the field.”

There is no arguing with him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He’s right, though. I haven’t been acting like a leader.

“With that being said, I will be looking into what’s going on with Roman. I do not tolerate this kind of behavior and neither will the NCAA. If charges are filed, he’s suspended immediately pending investigation. Between you and me, he’s already in a great deal of trouble and his chances at playing in the upcoming bowl game are subject to their approval, not mine.”

I nod. I can tell by looking at him he doesn’t want me to say anything. Bile burns my throat, threatening to spill over. Rage pounds through me in an angry beat.

Thump. Breathe. Thump. Breathe.

“Send Winslow in.”

I leave without another word. Closing the door behind me, I see Roman’s eyes drift to mine as he’s leaned against the wall. I level him with a glare, my voice dripping with venom when I say, “I will do whatever I have to do to make you fucking pay for what you did,” I speak slowly, treating him like the idiot he is.

“I don’t think you will. I know where your priorities are.” His jaw twitches, his cheek and eye swelling, his expression revealing zero emotion.

“You have no idea where my priorities are.”

“Well then, I’m looking forward to it.” He pushes himself off the wall, his shoulder slamming into mine as he passes by.

Quarterbacks are usually adept at staying cool under pressure in front of thousands. But this play, I have no control over the outcome.

“I THINK WEshould move off campus,” I tell Barrette, pacing her dorm room. She’s holding a piece of paper. A restraining order. Only it wasn’t filed by her today, it was filed by Roman’s attorney on his behalf. It’s against me and her. Barrette counter filed one of course but the fact that Roman even had the nerve to do so just goes to show you just how fucking delusional he really is.

Barrette stares at me, my words slowly sinking in. “What? What are you saying?”

“That we should move in together. Off campus. Away from all this bullshit.”

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