Mason
When the head coach calls you into his office at eleven in the morning on a Monday, it’s probably not a good thing. But it might be. Maybe after Saturday’s football game, he has decided to start me. Maybe it’s finally my time, the way I had always assumed it would be this year until Hawkins came.
I throw some sweats on and pull a Moray Athletics hoodie over my t-shirt and grab a cap and pull it down over the hair that I really need to cut. I should go to the barber sometime soon, or I’m gonna start looking like some seventies porn star, sans the ‘stache of course.
I head over to the coach’s office and flirt a little with the secretary Tami that has been a staple of the department for a few decades. She’s hilarious, and all of us boys love her.
“Hey, handsome. You get called in today too?” She looked down at her notebook and nodded. “Yep. Here you are. He’ll be with you in a minute, and I’m gonna warn you, he’s been in a ripe mood today.”
“You see the game on Saturday?” I say sweetly, knowing the answer already.
“Hell no, McKendrick. I get enough of you pricks every day.” She cackled, and it was deafening. Tami found herself incredibly funny.
Her phone rang, and she picked it up. “Yeah… Okay… Fuck, No! I’m not your delivery person, Harry, go and get your own goddamned Subway, and while you're there, pick me up something too.” She hung up and smiled at me. “He’ll see you now.”
“Well, thanks for pissing him off, Tami,” I grimaced.
“That’s fucking flirtation, McKendrick.”
I knocked and waited.
“McKendrick, get in here!” Coach Darnell said gruffly, his voice gravelly from all the screaming and cigarettes.
I opened the door, and a shiver ran down my spine when I say Dean Winston sitting in a chair beside the coach’s desk. This wasn’t good. Coach grimaced at me, something had definitely pissed in his Wheaties today.
“Hey, Coach. You wanted to see me? Good morning, Dean Winston,” I nodded as I took a few steps in towards his desk.
“Sit down, McKendrick.” He gestured to the chair sitting lonely in front of his desk. It had been put there for a purpose.
“McKendrick… You’re what a junior this year, correct?” Dean Winston asked seriously. I nodded. “You still have one more year with us, son. That’s good to hear. You really came through for us in that last quarter. But that’s not what you’re here for, is it?”
“I’m…I’m not really sure, sir.” I sat down and immediately felt shame as they stared at me. I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was, I was about to get an ass reaming. Coach Darnell’s face was about as red as I had ever seen.
“I see,” he looked over at the coach, who stared right back at him. “You are here, Mason because you are extremely close to being put on academic suspension. You're already failing Art Appreciation, and after the year we had last year with that lawsuit…Well, we have to take this much more seriously this year, right, Coach?” My heart sunk.
“It’s a fucking elective, Jon. I can’t believe this shit!” Coach bellowed, slamming his hand down on the wooden desk. “You’re not gonna make me pull out the best fucking QB we have right now. Hawkins is gonna be great, but this is his learning year, and we need McKendrick out there pulling the last quarter or maybe the last half of the game to bring us home.”
“No, I’m not pulling him, yet. You have until midterms, Mason. I have scheduled you an appointment with the Lohry Tutoring Center so we can get you to scrape at least a C out of that class.” He reached out and handed me a small packet. I took it, my hand shaking about as much as it ever had before.
“Fucking baseball team,” Coach growled. “They had to push it too much, Jon, and now we are all paying the price for their fuck up.”
“This is an educational institution, Harry, and we want to see our boys and girls graduate and get the education they deserve while they are playing for this fine institution, even if we have to drag them kicking and screaming. But we won’t have to with you, will we, McKendrick? You’ve always been a smart boy and kept your nose clean,” Dean Winston said calmly, his voice tired from having this conversation. Coach was bull-headed.
“Hell, he’s our de facto captain this year. The goddamn heart of the team, they all look up to him as a leader, and if they find out he’s about to get benched on academic…fucking suspension, they’ll raise hell,” Coach’s stern voice carried a hint of a threat.
“I’ll get a C. Promise. I understand. Look, I don’t want to lose my scholarship or my place on the team. I can do this, Coach,” I nodded solemnly.
He stared me down for a second and nodded back. “Fine. But not a word of this, McKendrick, if you don’t mind. I don’t want the boys getting scared about this shit.”
“They should be scared, Harry. This is serious, and if I have to, I’ll bench whoever isn’t making the academic cut. It has to happen,” Dean Winston sighed tiredly, shaking a finger at Coach.
“That’s all, McKendrick. Go to that studying place today,” Coach dismissed me.
“You have an appointment, McKendrick. It’s in the packet and do not be late. We need you this season,” Dean Winston said, trying to show his support.
I stood up and walked out of the door, closing it behind me. Coach’s voice thundered as soon as I left.
Tami smiled as I exited. I felt like I had just been in the losing end of a fight. “It’s gonna be a long fucking day, handsome.”
