After the interviews I head back to the locker room. Cash is already there standing at his locker. I glance over to him. “Good game. Best throw you made all year.”
He doesn’t respond. I didn’t really expect him to.
“Hayes? You’re up.” A rep from the NCAA says looking at me.
They test all of us after the last game and after a bowl game too. I knew that heading into the game but last night I didn’t care. I needed that escape.
“I’m sure Steven would have loved to see this shit.” Cash mumbles.
I glare at him. “Don’t you fucking say his name around me.”
“Why? Does it hurt to know you were responsible?”
“Fuck you, Cash.” I brush past him towards the bathroom.
“Landon Hayes?” The man holding a clip board asks.
I nod but don’t say anything. He hands me a piece of paper that says I’m being tested with my name and date. I sign it, hand it back.
He follows me back to the bathrooms, makes me wash my hands with water only and then tells me to drop my pants down to my ankles.
“Lift your shirt up to your arm pits.”
There’s no modesty allowed here. They see it all.
“Now turn around and do a three-sixty.”
I do as he says. This isn’t my first drug test so I know what the drill is here. He watches me piss in the cup and then takes it and calls the next player back.
I know I’m not passing. I smoked pot yesterday.
Coach sees me walk out and he knows too. I feel his disappointment rolling from him.
When I come back into the locker room with the boys, Colton and Cash are shoving each other. I know where this is going so I stand in between them but I can’t help myself and start laughing. Probably because I should be laughing at myself right now.
Or that I just find it funny that Cash just punched Colton. That’s entertaining to me.
“It’s not even about you just being an all-around dick anymore.” Cash says to me knocking my hands away. “It’s about you having a fucking drug problem.” And then he shoves me backwards into Coach Lander. “You not only let me down, you let Steven down. You let the whole fucking team down you piece of shit!”
I don’t say anything because he’s absolutely right.
And then I’m fucking pissed. I’m pissed because I’m being called on my own shit in front of everyone all because he thought I was laughing at him.
“You sure you want to do this right now, Landon?” Coaches and players start trying to separate Cash and I when they see where this is going. “You sure you want to have this conversation, here, right now?”
Fucking right I want to.
“Yes.” I say laughing. I’m glad someone’s finally calling me on my shit but it doesn’t stop my own anger either.
He shoves me first and I have to catch myself against the locker. With a dark gaze, I look up and am met with an even darker one. I’ve never in my life seen Cash this angry. And never with me.
My hands start shaking as I feel the adrenaline jolt through me. “You ready for me to break that million dollar arm?”
He fucking laughs at me right then. “I'd like to see you try, asshole.”
“How long have you been fucking Macy?” I ask curious how long the two of them have been going behind my back. Probably years.
“Don’t say shit like that unless you want an honest answer.”
“You warning me?”
“I guess I am.” He smiles back at me, a glowering look that makes me want to wipe it off his fucking face. “Don’t ask unless you want the truth.”
He shoves me back again. It’s like a goddamn shoving match. “How long have you been fucking, Madison?”
I don’t answer him. Instead I punch him.
“I hope your nose is crooked, you bastard!”
“Yeah,” I spit blood on the floor. “Your face isn’t so pretty now, asshole.”
He smiles with blood running down the side of his face. “Still pretty enough for Sports Illustrated.”
December 2, 2013
I get the phone call I knew was coming all along. Coach wants me to come to his office. He’s pissed. I can’t hear it in his voice. Leave it to me to fuck up once again. I can’t even manage to stay sober knowing that a drug test was coming.
I knock on Coach’s door and wait before entering.
“Come in, Landon.”
I take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. He picks up a stack of papers, “Do you know what this is?”
I nod, “The results of the drug tests.”
He stands and paces back and forth after throwing the papers back on his desk. “Do you know what you’re outcome was?”