Chapter 243 Chapter Two Hundred And Forty Three

Chapter 243 Chapter Two Hundred And Forty Three

Lena's POV

"Do you know him personally?" Coach Ellis asked, his finger still hovering over Mr. Dawson's figure in the photograph.

I stared at the image, at Mr. Dawson standing in the back row with that cold, professional expression he always wore. "Yes," I said pensively.

Coach Ellis's eyebrows shot up. "That's impossible. How?"

"Well, I guess I never told you this, but I kind of work for their family," I said quietly. "My mother does too."

"Really? For them?" Coach Ellis looked genuinely shocked, like I'd just told him I secretly worked for the CIA.

"Don't those people have silver spoons stuck up their... " He caught himself mid-sentence and cleared his throat awkwardly. "What do you do for them exactly?"

I was still staring at the photo, my mind racing through the implications of what this could mean. "I tutor the Dawson boys,"

I said, my voice distant. "Different subjects, whatever their weak spots are. I find them and help them work through it."

"That's great then!" Coach Ellis's whole face lit up with sudden hope, like he'd just found the solution to all my problems.

"I mean, it means they know you personally. They trust you with their kids' education. That's huge, Lena. Maybe they'll be willing to help you out of this mess."

For exactly three seconds, hope flared bright in my chest. Mr. Dawson was on the school board. He was powerful, probably the most powerful person in that entire photograph.

With his wealth, his connections, his influence, he could make this expulsion disappear with a single phone call. Mrs. Sinclair would have no choice but to listen to him.

Then reality came crashing back down like a bucket of ice water.

Sure, Mr. Dawson was powerful and would probably make light work of ending this expulsion thing.

But he also hated my guts.

There was absolutely no way he would ever help me with something like this. Not after everything that went down at that hotel.

Not when he probably blamed me, at least partly, for the fact that his wife now resented him.

Not after I'd forced his hand into that awkward family reunion he clearly hadn't wanted, made him miss his important flight to Singapore, challenged his authority right in front of his face.

And definitely not with his crumbling family dynamics and his oh-so-important business empire that apparently took precedence over everything else in his life.

That ship had sailed, caught fire, exploded, and sunk straight to the bottom of the ocean where it would never be recovered.

I told Coach Ellis as much, watching the hope drain from his expression like water from a broken glass.

He grunted with disappointment, his shoulders sagging as he leaned back in his creaky office chair. "Damn. Well, that means you only have one other choice left then."

"I'm going to have to confront Allison," I said, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

"Exactly." Coach Ellis nodded grimly. "If you can find out how she did it, how she forged those papers, what her process was, she might even be the one who ends up expelled instead of you. Turn the tables completely.

"But listen to me, Lena, and listen carefully, whatever it is you have to do, you have to hurry. The administration starts informing different colleges about academic dishonesty situations within just a few days. It's standard protocol.

He continued, "Once those notifications go out, even if you manage to get the expulsion rescinded later, you'll still have a scandal attached to your name. That kind of thing follows you around. It could seriously affect your chances of getting accepted somewhere good, scholarship or no scholarship."

My stomach dropped. I hadn't even thought about the timeline, about how quickly this nightmare would spread beyond Westbrook's walls and contaminate my entire future.

"I'm going to do my best, Coach," I sighed, trying to inject some confidence into my voice even though I felt like I was drowning. "Thank you so much for all your help. Really. It means everything."

I stood up to leave, my mind already spinning through impossible scenarios of how I was supposed to get evidence against Allison Cooper, when Coach Ellis reached out and grabbed my wrist gently.

"Wait," he whispered, his voice dropping so low I had to lean in to hear him. He glanced toward his closed office door like he was worried someone might be listening.

"I shouldn't be telling you this, probably crossing about a dozen professional boundaries right now, but I hear you students talk sometimes during gym. Not because I'm listening in, but because y'all kids are so loud all the sam time."

"So I'm almost a hundred percent sure that one of the girls on the cheer team is the one who personally carries all of Allison's things for her. And I mean all of them, her bag, her books, her water bottle, her makeup, everything.

He finished, "Which means Allison herself doesn't actually have anything on her person. Everything is kept with her friend."

I blinked, processing this information. "Yeah, that's Madison. She always carries Allison's bag for her. It's like her part time job almost. Even when they're separated or in different classes, Madison still has to carry that designer bag around everywhere."

Coach Ellis just stared at me meaningfully, his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to connect the dots he was laying out.

I stared back at him blankly for a moment. Then it clicked, and my eyes went wide. "You mean..."

He nodded slowly.

"You want me to..."

He nodded again, more deliberately this time.

"Got it." My pulse started racing as the implications sank in.

If Allison was off somewhere making her usual rounds, terrorizing freshmen in the bathroom, spreading lies about me to anyone who would listen, holding court with her remaining loyal followers, that meant Madison was somewhere else in this school, wandering around with Allison's bag.

The bag that could potentially have something inside it that would expose Allison as the scheming, manipulative liar she really was.

Maybe evidence of how she'd forged those cheat sheets. Maybe practice drafts. Maybe notes about her plan. Maybe incriminating texts or photos on her phone if I could somehow access it.

"Oh my God, I completely forgot about that!" I threw my arms around Coach Ellis in an impulsive hug. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

He chuckled warmly and hugged me back, patting my shoulder like a father would. "You've always been like a daughter to me, Lena. The daughter I never had. The least I can do is help you fight back against this injustice.

"Just be careful, okay? Don't take any dumb risks or do anything that could make your situation worse. And as soon as you get your hands on some kind of proof, anything concrete at all, you come straight back here and we'll request an emergency meeting with Mrs. Sinclair and the board.

He sighed, "I'll be there to vouch for you no matter what happens. I'll stake my entire career on it if I have to."

My throat got tight with emotion. At least someone still believed in me. "Thank you, Coach. I won't let you down."

"Can I please borrow this?" I pointed at a giant pair of aviator sunglasses sitting on his desk among the clutter of clipboards, whistles, and old sports magazines.

"Of course. Take whatever you need."

I grabbed the sunglasses and slid them on. They were absurdly, comically oversized on my face, covering nearly half of it and making me look like some kind of celebrity trying to avoid paparazzi.

But maybe that was exactly what I needed right now, some kind of disguise, however flimsy and ridiculous. Then I slipped out of his office, checking both directions carefully before stepping into the hallway.

This was my life now, apparently.

Sneaking around school like some kind of teenage spy, planning to rifle through someone else's personal belongings just to avoid being permanently expelled. It was insane. Not to mention desperate.

But what other choice did I have?

Just sit back and accept defeat? Let Allison destroy everything I'd worked for, every late night studying, every sacrificed weekend, every dream I'd built, without even trying to fight back?

Absolutely not.

Not happening.

I started my search at the most logical place, the gym, where the cheerleaders usually held practice during free periods.

The double doors were propped open, but when I peeked inside cautiously, the space was completely empty. No practice today. No Madison. Just abandoned equipment and the echo of my own nervous breathing.

Next stop: the locker room. I pushed through the door as quietly as possible, listening intently for voices or the telltale sounds of gossip and industrial-strength hairspray.

Nothing. Just the steady drip of a leaky shower somewhere in the back and the lingering chemical smell of cheap body spray hanging in the air.

I went hall by hall after that, checking every location where the cheer squad normally congregated. The library study rooms, empty except for a few students with headphones.

The student lounge, a couple of kids playing on their phones, but no cheerleaders. The cafeteria, lunch period was long over, just custodians wiping down tables. It was like Madison didn't even come to school today.

"Come on, where are you?" I muttered under my breath, frustration building with each dead end.

My anxiety was climbing higher with each passing minute. Time was slipping through my fingers like sand.

Every second I wasted wandering around aimlessly was another second closer to those devastating emails going out to colleges, to my name being permanently tarnished, to my dreams dying before they even had a chance to live.

I turned down the hallway near the administrative offices, my sneakers squeaking slightly on the polished linoleum floor, still muttering to myself like a crazy person.

"Where the hell could she be? She's literally always attached to Allison's hip, carrying that bag around like it's her life's work. Which I guess it kind of is. God, this is hopeless. What if she's, "

I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks.

Jace, Marcus, and Allison were standing in the middle of the corridor in what looked like an extremely tense standoff.

Jace's entire body was rigid with barely controlled fury, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Marcus was positioned directly between them like some kind of human barricade, his broad shoulders blocking Jace's path to Allison.

And Allison herself looked both smug and defensive, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her chin raised in that defiant way she had.

Before I could back away, hide, or do anything, Allison's head snapped in my direction as if she had some kind of sixth sense specifically tuned to find me.

Her eyes locked onto mine even through the ridiculous oversized sunglasses that were supposed to be disguising me.

She pointed directly at me, her voice sharp and accusatory, loud enough to echo off the metal lockers lining the walls. "You! What the hell are you still doing here?"