Chapter 37 I'll Handle It

Chapter 37 I'll Handle It
I'm sitting in the hard plastic chair outside the athletic director’s office, my damp hoodie clinging to my back and my cheek throbbing where Sarah’s fist connected. My hands will not stop shaking, so I press them between my knees and try to breathe normally.
The door to the waiting area opens and the air shifts before I even see him. I look up and watch Cole walking down the hallway with long, purposeful strides. His eyes find mine instantly, and I know right away that he’s pissed. Not the loud kind of angry. The quiet, controlled kind that makes my stomach tighten.
He stops directly in front of me and says nothing at first. He just looks at me, taking in the wet strands of hair stuck to my neck, the faint swelling on my cheek, and my still-trembling hands. His jaw tightens visibly.
“Whatever happens in there,” he says quietly, voice low enough that only I can hear, “you say nothing more than you already have. You understand me?”
I open my mouth. “Cole–”
“Do you understand me?” he interrupts, firm and unyielding. There is something in his tone that makes my chest tighten, a command wrapped in concern that leaves no room for argument.
I nod. “Yes.”
He doesn’t say anything else. He simply turns and opens the office door, holding it for me to walk in first. Mr. Hargrove is still sitting behind his desk looking exhausted. The woman from student services is there again, along with the dean and Sarah herself, who shoots me a smug look from the corner.
Cole takes the seat beside me, his posture straight and professional. “I understand there has been an incident involving two of my players.”
Hargrove nods and slides a report across the desk. “Riley destroyed school property and assaulted Sarah in the locker room. We have security footage and video evidence from Sarah’s phone. This is a clear violation of our no-bullying and harassment policy.”
“We’re reconsidering her position on the team,” the dean adds.
“Or in the school entirely,” the student affairs rep chimes in.
Cole listens without interrupting, his expression stern. When he’s sure they’re all done, he leans forward slightly.
“Riley will be adequately punished for her actions. I will personally make sure of that,” he says, looking at them one after the other. “However, removing her from the team would be a massive blow to the team at such a critical time. She is our star player and the tournament is next week. Without her, the entire squad suffers.”
The student affairs rep crosses her arms. “With all due respect, Coach Fletcher, we cannot let this slide. It sets a terrible precedent. If we excuse violent behaviour because someone is talented, what message does that send to the rest of the students?”
Cole turns to look at me for a moment, his gaze steady. “Riley, step outside for a bit.”
My brow furrows in brief confusion, but I stand without arguing and walk out, closing the door behind me.
I pace the hallway for what feels like forever, my mind racing. I can hear muffled voices through the door but cannot make out the words. My cheek pulses with every heartbeat. I keep thinking about the smashed phones and how stupid I was to think that would solve anything.
Finally the door opens again. “Riley, come back in,” Hargrove calls.
I step inside. Cole is still sitting there, looking calm and in control. Hargrove sighs heavily.
“After an extensive discussion with Coach Fletcher, we have decided on the following. Sixty hours of community service, full reimbursement for the damaged phones, and a formal written apology to both Sarah and Haley. You are suspended from all team activities for the remainder of this week, but you may return for the tournament if you complete the service hours. Any further incidents and you will be expelled. Do you understand?”
I nod, relief mixing with humiliation. “Yes, sir.”
They dismiss us and Cole and I walk out together in silence. The moment we are far enough down the hallway that no one can hear, he stops and turns to me.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he asks in a low voice that is clearly still angry.
“I handled it.” I pause and look down. “Or at least I tried to.”
“That,” he says slowly, “is exactly what I told you not to do.”
I understand that he is angry, but something inside me snaps. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning to face him fully. “I must have missed the part where you actually handled it yourself.”
His eyes darken.
“Lower your voice.”
“No,” I shake my head, frustration boiling over. “You do not get to talk to me like I’m nothing but one of your players right now–”
“I am talking to you,” he cuts in, stepping closer, “like someone who just walked herself straight into a suspension hearing.”
That shuts me up for a second. I let out a shaky breath. “They had the video, Cole. What was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait while they ruin my life?”
“And you think smashing their phones fixes that?”
“It was the only copy–” I start.
“You cannot possibly be that naive, Riley,” he cuts me off, sounding exasperated. “Of course it wasn’t the only copy.”
A brief silence falls between us. I stare at him, my stomach dropping. “W-what?”
“No one keeps that kind of leverage in one place,” he says calmly. “At least not if they’re smart. They probably backed it up to a cloud or another device or at least sent it to someone else.”
The weight of that realization crashes into me. I drag a hand through my still-damp hair. “Oh my God… So I just destroyed my future for nothing?”
Cole’s voice drops lower. “I told you to let me handle it. This is what happens when you don’t listen.”
I feel my temper flare again. “You cannot tell me what to do.”
He looks like he’s about to say something, then thinks better of it and stays silent. There’s a brief pause then he reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly under my chin as he tilts my face just enough to inspect the bruise on my cheek. “Did she do this?”
I hesitate but that’s all the answer he needs. His jaw clenches tightly.
“Get in the car,” he says. “We’re leaving.”
I follow him out to the parking lot without arguing. We slide into his car and he starts driving, the silence thick between us. After a few minutes I cannot hold it in anymore.
“What exactly did you say to talk them out of suspending me?” I ask.
He keeps his eyes on the road. “The dean owed me a favour.”
I wait for more details, but none come. “Care to share what kind of favour?”
“No.”
I roll my eyes, then sigh. “Thank you for the help. I owe you.”
“The only payment I need is for you to actually listen to me every once in a while,” he replies firmly.
I stay quiet for the rest of the drive, my thoughts churning. When he finally pulls into my driveway and parks, I reach for the door handle.
“Thanks again for today,” I say softly as I open the door and begin to step out.
“Riley.”
I pause and look back at him. His expression is unreadable now but his eyes are hard as they lock on mine.
“I’ve got it from here.”
And with that, he drives off without another word, leaving me standing in the driveway watching his taillights disappear down the street.