Chapter 7

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Currently, I am hiding in the boy's locker room eavesdropping on my brother's conversation with Coach... and so far, it's not going well.

"What do you mean you can't play the game tomorrow night?" Coach asks exasperatedly.

I can't tell if he's annoyed at this specifically or if that's just the permanent tone of his voice.

"I mean... I can't play the game tomorrow night..." Scott repeats.

"You can't... wait to play the game tomorrow night!" He refuses to take Scott's answer and is now sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.

"No Coach—I can't play the game tomorrow night." Scott is getting frustrated.

Coach stares at him dumbfoundedly, "... I'm not following."

He hesitates, probably trying to think of a good enough excuse, "I'm having some... personal issues."

"Is it a girl?"

"No."

"Is it a guy?"

I can tell Scott rolls his eyes before Coach begins again, "You know, in every set of twins one is highly likely to be gay... and your sister and Stilinski... ya know." he waves his hand around and raises his eyebrows, "... you know, our goalie, Danny is gay."

What is that supposed to mean?

"Yeah, I know Coach, but that's not it." Scott sighs impatiently.

"You don't think Danny's a good-looking guy?"

He visibly gets flustered at the question, "I... think he's good-looking. But I-I- I like girls... and that's not it, anyway. I-I-"

"What is it drugs? Are you doing meth? Because I had a brother that was addicted to meth. You should have seen what it did to his teeth, they were all cracked and rotted. It was- it was disgusting."

This was now the second time within twenty-four hours that Scott has been asked if he was doing drugs, which I find kinda funny.

"My God—what happened to him?"

Jesus Scott, you are almost as easily distracted as Stiles.

"He got veneers!" Coach pauses for a second, the conversation seemed to spark an idea for him, "Is-is this what this is about? Are you afraid of getting hurt, McCall?"

"No... I'm... having some issues dealing with aggression..."

Aint that the truth.

"Well, here's the good news! That's why you play lacrosse! Problem solved."

Problem NOT solved.

"Coach, I can't play the game tomorrow night." He sighs.

"Listen McCall, part of playing first line is the taking on the responsibility of being first line. Now if you can't shoulder that responsibility, then you're back on the bench until you're ready."

"If I don't play the game, you're taking me off first line?"

"McCall... Play the game."

Scott huffs and marches out of Coach's office, bumping into me in the process. "Were you seriously just eavesdropping the whole time?" he continues to walk out of the locker room and into the hallway with me tagging along behind him.

"Uhhhh... no?" it comes out as more of a question than an answer.

"So, what am I supposed to do now?"

His phone dings, and it's a text from our mom, saying she got the night off for the game and is so excited.

Uh oh-

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