SAWYER
Chapter One
Fuck physics.
I sneered at the faculty building as I passed it, then pulled my coat closer around my body.
It swallowed me whole, but I didn’t mind the warmth it provided against the chilly January winds.
The building was just another Gothic, brick-and-mortar monstrosity that looked eerie as fuck on a winter evening.
The orange lights beaming from the recessed ground fixtures made the walls glow and didn’t help much in making it look any friendlier.
Professor Wallaby made it less friendly still.
She was the bane of my hockey career. Or would be soon.
Her golden curls, that defied the laws of the physics she droned on and on about, remained still and high despite the elements.
Her red-framed glasses perched on the tip of her nose and accented the murder glare she could shoot over the upper frame.
All because I thought Heisenberg was that guy from Breaking Bad.
How the hell was I supposed to know some random scientist was the inspiration behind the pseudonym? They never said that in the show.
Alright. So I was dumb. But it wasn’t like I planned on teaching physics when Wallaby retired.
Which, admittedly, was going to be never anyway.
The story went, she couldn’t stand her husband’s endless lectures on English literature day in and day out, so she remained a full time professor well into her retirement years.
All I needed was a passing grade. And yet, after spending an entire afternoon in the library, I was no closer to it than I had been three months ago. So I made my way through crusty snow back to the neo-colonial house that my team called our home.
Northwood’s campus was a massive plot of land that pretty much declared independence.
It was never quiet. Students milled about every which way I looked.
And unless they were looking to go clubbing all night, nobody needed to leave the premises.
Ever. In its inner ring was the student center with every possible amenity one could need.
Reading rooms, coworking spaces, a library, a bookstore, cafes, restaurants, bars, and a twenty-four-seven gym all nestled in the center.
And around it, occupying space in every direction, were faculty buildings and administration facilities.
Beyond those, there were sports facilities for Northwood’s greatest point of pride, the Arctic Titans, as well as the clumsy baseball bat swingers and the football giants.
An Olympic pool was the outermost building in the athletic sector.
On the opposite end were sprawling dormitories, fraternity and sorority houses, and team houses, such as ours.
It felt like coming home, especially when I stomped my feet at the door to rid myself of the snow on my Doc Martens and entered the warm common room on the ground floor.
I made my way straight to the basement where the real common room was.
I didn’t bother pulling my earbuds out. Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine played at maximum volume, drowning out everything else.
The basement was fairly empty with all the parties on campus keeping the frat bros warm and occupied.
Riley and Cameron were on the far sofa, playing their nerdy game, and Sebastian and Avery were rocking the soccer table in a fierce battle.
I nodded at them all when heads turned and greetings were said.
My anger was such that speaking at all risked me lashing out and I reined that in as much as I could.
Instead, I marched to the fridge and grabbed a can of beer, then plopped down into an armchair far from anyone else for a few moments of venting.
My playlist moved on and AC/DC’s Back in Black filled my skull with its good old-fashioned hard rock.
I sipped my beer and closed my eyes until a hand touched my shoulder. I looked up.
Avery stood still, waiting. His eyebrows were in a flat line over his gray eyes, his lips pressed together appeared even sharper than they naturally were.
I pulled one earbud out and held it two inches away from my ear. The song was nearing the best part. “Huh?”
“Who do I need to kick in the balls?” he asked.
“That crone Wallaby,” I muttered.
“Tsk.” Avery lowered himself to the very edge of the other armchair, spread his legs wide, and set his elbows on his knees. He shook his head. “That’ll be complicated.”
“You think? Unless you’re flunking biology, you shouldn’t even try going after her balls.” I brought the can to my lips and swigged more beer. It tickled my mouth and left a bitter aftertaste. As if I needed more reasons to snarl.
Avery blinked, which was his equivalent to laughing his ass off. “Have you talked to her?”
“This morning,” I said. And when he was silent, I proceeded to tell him, and all the others in the basement, how that had gone down.
Basically, Wallaby had invited me into her office to tell me I needed to get my act together.
The overdue papers last semester had been half the reason I had failed.
In her words, it was lucky that she was offering the same course this semester, so I could retake it and earn my credits, but I needed to “Start putting in the bare minimum, Mister Price,” I shrilled in Wallaby’s voice.
“Okay, that’s a shit impression. Don’t do that again.” Avery remained deadpan.
“About that ball-kicking?” I reminded him. “Do your own, asshole.”
“I’ll pass. So, what happened next?” He folded his hands together and held my gaze without blinking.
I snorted. “What happened next? ‘Yes, Ma’am. Of course, Ma’am.’ And I was out.”
“She didn’t tell you how to actually put that bare minimum in, huh?” Avery asked.
I shook my head, pulling the other earbud out because I had totally lost my concentration. “I guess there’s no hope for me at all, boys.”
“There is.” Avery was short and to the point as ever. “You fail again, you take the summer session. There are options.”
“Seriously, dude. If I fail twice, the summer session will be a nice epilogue that changes nothing.” As I said this, Riley twisted on the sofa to face me better.
“Have you tried getting in touch with Noah?” he asked.
I let out a strangled laugh. “Have I tried? Everyone I talked to said he was booked until the twenty-fourth century. People are literally scheduling which courses they expect to fail before they’re even admitted, then getting in touch with him.
I got as far as talking to Matt Hughes, Noah’s best friend.
And he told me I was way too late. Besides, Noah’s coaching nerds for competitions most of the time. ”
“Did you actually see the guy?” Riley asked.
“Do you know how to make him see me?” I returned flatly.
“You’re doing the thing, buddy,” Avery said.
“What thing?” I snapped.
“You’re being a dick. Cap’s just trying to help.”
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry, Riley. I’m just on edge.”
Our team captain waved his hand off and shook his head. “It’s fine. But…is it really that hard to even meet with the guy?”
I blew out a breath of air. Noah Foster was the wunderkind of physics. “Dude’s won the Physics Olympiad when he was fourteen. And he’s weird. You can’t just go up to his room. He’ll ban you for life, man.”
They all laughed, Avery’s laughter being a short exhale, like I was kidding.
I gawked at them. “I’m serious. Brad, the Breakers’ goalie, tried it and Noah told him he would never, ever even hint at something that could help him get a single point he didn’t earn himself.
And when Brad shits himself with fear, you know the guy isn’t joking.
I guess it’s got something to do with knocking on his door and breaking his concentration. Brad didn’t know what to call it.”
“Traitor,” Avery accused me and I ignored him. I was desperate and I’d heard from a mutual connection that our biggest rival’s goalie had met with my last resort tutor. I’d touched bases with Brad. Sue me.
“Alright,” Riley said. “So, you can’t go up to his room and knock because he’ll blacklist you. No one you spoke with can get you in touch with him. How do you get him to tutor you, then?”
“I don’t,” I said.
“There must be someone else,” Sebastian offered.
“Not gonna work. Sawyer scored a grand total of nothing the entire semester. He’s starting from scratch.” Avery was thinking aloud and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Thanks, buddy,” I said.
He ignored me. “We need Noah. He’s the only one who could, in theory, do this. We’re talking about teaching a toddler how to build a rocket.”
“Thanks some more, buddy.” I exhaled and slid lower in my seat until my ass was practically hanging over the edge. The can rested on my chest, my hands wrapped around it, elbows cozy on the armrests.
“He’s gotta have a price,” Avery said ultimately.
“He’s already expensive as all fuck,” I pointed out. Still, it was cheaper than losing my scholarship and getting kicked off the team. My entire career was hanging on by a thread.
“Nah, that’s not what I meant,” Avery said. “He’s coaching nerds for competitions, but isn’t competing himself, huh? Weird. But why is he tutoring them? What does he get from them winning a competition? Glory? Favors? Connections? He must have a reason.”
I groaned as loudly as I could. This was driving me fucking insane.
“What if he’s just weird and wants to flex?” Cameron asked with a serious expression on his face.
“What if he’s tutoring those that will go on to make a difference?” Sebastian offered.
“None of that is helpful,” Riley said flatly.
Avery was opening his mouth when I put my earbuds back in and set the can on the small table in front of me. “Fuck this. Fuck everything. Fuck Noah. I’m going to that frat party.” And with that, I was out of the basement and marching to the party that was a few blocks away from our house.