I swipe on a few other photos. They’re all pretty similar. It’s me with a few girls I hooked up with recently. Some of them are from last semester, I know because I cut my hair a little shorter since then.
“After the trouble we had a couple of years ago,” the Dean continues. “We monitor social media pretty closely. We watch anything that could tarnish our reputation and hinder our chances of being ranked as the top university in the country. We’re right behind MIT right now and the thing that sets us apart from them and gives us an edge is our sports programs. And we all know that the most visible, most popular asset within our athletic department is our hockey team. This is why the entire country is watching us this year. They’re watching you.”
Luke intervenes again. “We?—”
“I’m not done, Mr. Harper. Two years ago, our team made this school proud. You won the Frozen Four. We had a crown prince in our ranks. We were the school heads of states and royalty all over the world wanted to send their kids to. Our reputation took a hit when my predecessor was caught in that horrible scandal, but I—we—worked hard to restore our prestige and credibility as an institution.”
This time, Luke and I keep our traps hermetically shut.
“After the disastrous season during Dean Williams’s final year of tenure, Coach Harrison put together another great roster. We missed the Frozen Four victory to Bridgeport by one single goal last season. That’s probably one of the main reasons why we’re behind MIT. This year we have every chance to make that top ranking. But to get there, our school needs to stay at the top in every field and our reputation needs to be beyond reproach. That’s especially important after the scandals we just recovered from. So imagine my chagrin when I saw those posts showing one of our star athletes in such comprising situations.”
Fuck.
“Sir, please accept our most sincere apologies. As captain of the Cove Knights, I guarantee you that we’ll tighten our ranks and?—”
The Dean shakes his head, an expression of sheer disgust on his face. “I’m afraid that’s too late. Have you seen the captions in those pictures?”
My eyes go back to the photo currently open on the tablet.
Huh.
Jamie Hart breaks hearts.
I slide onto the next one.
The Cove Knights’ left winger is a one and done kind of man.
And the next.
Jamie’s bedroom has a revolving door and every sorority girl, cheerleader and a substantial portion of the female population on campus has walked through it.
That’s unfair.
“Sir,” I dare, looking the Dean in the eye. “I’m not gonna lie. I love a party. And I enjoy female company. But breaking hearts? That’s impossible. I’m always upfront with any woman who wants to get close to me. Before any clothes come off. A good time with no strings attached. I’ve never lied or deceived anyone. You can ask any of the women in these photos.”
That was the wrong thing to say. I know by the way the Dean’s lips purse as if he had been sucking on a lemon.
“Are you sure, Hart?” There’s a distinctive threatening note in his tone. “What about this particular girl?”
He shoves his phone right in my face and I have to crane my head back to be able to look at the screen.
It’s another photo of me and a blonde girl that looks familiar. Her mascara is a little smudged around her eyes and she has one arm around my neck as she takes the selfie with her other hand.
The caption reads somewhere along the lines of#jamiehart, #hothookups, #bunnycorner, #blowjobs, #Idontswallow.
“That’s Marissa…” I begin.
“It’s Carissa.” The Dean corrects me.
“That’s right. Thank you, sir. How did you know?”
The Dean’s fist hits the mahogany top of his desk, causing me, Luke and the pens in a ceramic pot to jump with the violence of the strike.
“THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!” The Dean bellows.
Shit. Shit. Fuck.
“She’s a lovely girl, sir.” What else can I say?
