8. Purple Knuckles, Pink Cheeks, Pale Faces
8
PURPLE KNUCKLES, PINK CHEEKS, PALE FACES
OLIVER
This is the most awkward silence I've ever witnessed.
Sitting in the dean’s office, in front of Arthur Chester — the director of sports at Covington — is myself, Mallory and fucking Nick Masters. Oh, and his dad, Coach Grace and my father, who had to fly in from Vermont for this meeting. Apparently when Damon and Marcus said they’d tell The Dean about what happened, they meant it. Don’t get me wrong, I knew this was coming, but I just didn’t think my fucking dad had to be here for it too. Mallory sits to my right, my dad on my left. Coach Grace is sitting next to her, with Nick’s father, Crew Masters, next to him. Nick looks… well, he looks like he got the shit beaten out of him. Good. I’m only sorry he’s still walking around. We all give Chester our attention when he – not so subtly coughs – after what feels like a lifetime of silence.
“I’m sure you are all well aware of the nature of the event that brings us here today,” he folds his hands in front of him. “Crew and Luca, thank you for travelling on such short notice.”
“It’s no problem, Artie.” Crew Masters says. His voice low and deep. He sits up straighter, the complete opposite to his son’s posture, who is slouching in his chair so much, like he thinks he can just slide to the floor and disappear from this meeting. You and me, both. “But I am still in the dark about what happened on Saturday.”
Chester blinks. “Your son did not disclose the nature of his…”
“Assault.” Nick spits out, sitting up straight. “Oliver Ashby fucking assaulted me.”
“I'm not the one you assaulted Nick, and we both know it.” I say in the calmest voice I can muster.
“This is such bullshit! Ashby attacked me because he’s head over ass in love with her, and didn’t like that she was showing me attention and not him.”
Mallory stiffens as I speak. “Pretty sure what you did to her is classed as assault , not attention.”
My dad places a hand on my forearm, willing my fists to unclench. If no adults were in the room, I'd punch the shit out of him. Again.
Mr. Masters turns to face his son. “You said that Oliver attacked you unprovoked, because he was drunk.”
This time, Mallory’s the one who scoffs.
“Can someone just tell me what’s going on–”
“Your son sexually assaulted my daughter.” Coach says, looking Crew Masters dead in the eye.
When we all first got here, Crew Masters gushed at seeing the legendary Benji Grace, saying that he was his favourite player on The Rangers. Now he has to listen to his idol tell him what his son did.
“That’s what happened, Crew.”
Mr. Masters swallows, not even asking for evidence.
“That’s fucking bullshit!” Nick spews, furiously standing from his seat .
“Sit. Down.” Coach says. His voice is quiet, but everyone can see the anger radiating from him. Nick sits.
“A video has been emailed to me, claiming it was taken at a party from Saturday at the accommodation of,” He types something on his keyboard. “The accommodation of junior, Marcus King.”
He loads up the video on the screen, and looks at Crew, waiting for approval. Crew nods. As Chester turns his computer screen to face us, he gives Mallory an apologetic look. “If you’d rather leave the room Miss Grace, that’s fine.”
Mallory just shakes her head, plastering on the fake smile she uses when she’s not okay, but pretends to be. The smile we all know is fake. Everyone excluding Nick, his father and Chester. He hits play on the video and it looks all too familiar.
It’s taken on someone’s phone, filming students in the living room. The camera pans to the staircase, where myself, and the rest of our group were sat. The camera is aimed at my face. Nothing happens until you hear the rustling from the closet, which you can hear perfectly. Then Mallory’s voice is heard. Nick, stop. The camera pans to the closet, where you hear Mallory clearly telling him no. And when I rush to rip open the door, that’s when all the blood drains from Mr. Master’s face. I place my hand on Mallory’s thigh, and she takes it, fusing our fingers together, squeezing my hand so tight.
Chester pauses the video after I throw the first punch, and drags his screen back towards him.
Silence fills the room. Not one sound is heard. Until Nick dares to look his dads way.
“Da–”
“Don’t.” Mr. Masters holds out his palm in front of him. “ Don’t say another fucking word, Nicholas.” He looks at me, then Mallory, then back at Chester.
“How do we proceed with this, Arthur?”
Chester squares his shoulders. “Covington takes these allegations very seriously, and from what we just saw, it’s enough evidence to prompt immediate expulsion.
Nick erupts, “But if you do that The Sealions will rip up my con–”
“Shut up!” His dad shouts, his face hot with anger. “I have never been so utterly ashamed as I am right now, Nicholas.” He turns to Chester. “We’ll take the expulsion. And I will not be pressing charges against Mr Ashby.” He looks over at me, his eyes drifting to my hand still clutching Mallory’s in her lap. Her eyes are laser focused on our joined hands. His eyes soften at the sight. “His reasons for the attack on my son seem to be fully justified.” Mr Masters stands, Nick is already storming out of the room, but he seems unbothered by it. Mr Masters shakes my dad’s hand, then Chester’s, then finally coach’s.
“I am… well, I know sorry falls short, but I truly am, for the pain my son caused your daughter.”
Coach offers him a curt nod, and Mr Masters leaves the room without another word. The door shuts with a soft click, leaving Mallory and I in the room with both our dads.
“How long are you suspending him for?” Mallory asks, still not looking up at Chester. He sighs, running a hair through his salt and pepper hair, though it's more salt than anything.
“Although Mr Masters chose not to press charges, Covington still has a no violence policy. Mr Ashby, I’m sorry, my hands are tied.”
“It’s fine. How long?” I ask .
“You can still attend your classes as usual, but I'm afraid you are on a two–week suspension from hockey.”
Mallory lets out a long breath, looking at me. “You’ll still be able to play the Emmerson game.”
“But you’re out of the Colden game next week.” Coach says.
“You will be permitted to use the gym and other fitness facilities,” Chester adds. “But you will not be able to attend practice or step foot on the Ice. you may attend your game next week, but in your own clothes. You may not bring or wear your gear. Your suspension starts now, and ends with a follow up meeting with me in two weeks time. Are we clear?”
I nod. “Crystal. Thank you, sir.”
“I need to have a private word with Mr and Ms Grace.”
My dad and I move to stand, Mallory standing too, hugging me.
“I’ll wait for you outside, Dolcezza mia.” I whisper. She nods and sits back down, smiling at me. My dad makes his way out of the room, kissing Mallory softly on the head before he goes.
“Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse,” He says, sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting area.
“Are you mad?” I’ve been working up the courage to ask him that since he told me he was flying down.
“Am I mad you violently assaulted your teammate? Yes. Am I mad at the reason? No.” He slouches in his chair slightly, running a hand through his curly hair. “Honestly, Figlio, it’s a tricky situation to be in. But I don’t blame you, nor does your mother. Hell, I think we’d be mad if you didn’t punch the boy. Is she doing okay?”
“She’s alright. It could’ve been a lot worse, that’s for damn sure. ”
“As long as Mallory is alright, then we are too. Two weeks won’t hurt your chances with The Orcas.”
“You’re sure?”
The Orcas are one of the NHL teams in Vermont. They are located in Starbury, Vermont, which is my home town. They’ve been watching me since high school, and made it very clear when I became captain this year that they wanted me for their roster after graduation, as long as I followed the rules and didn’t do anything stupid. Like beat the shit out of someone.
“Like Crew said, they’re not pressing charges against you. Everything that was said in there will be added to the suspension report, including Mallory’s statement. Coach Grace will write a statement to add as an addendum. You’re only out of one game. I promise son, you’ll be fine.”
I exhale a long breath, sagging in my seat.
“I’m just glad he didn’t make me apologise to Nick the Dick, then I would’ve been the one to throw a hissy fit.” My dad chuckles next to me. “You were awfully quiet in there.” He looks over to me, the same shade of green eyes staring at me.
“Honestly? If I said something, I would’ve been the one to throw a hissy fit. Watching that video?” He shakes his head. “When we got the call saying you were in a fight, we were angry, worried. But then Benji called us and explained, and we understood. I don’t think there’s any other way you could’ve handled that.” He thinks for a minute. “You could’ve punched him less, maybe.” Now I'm the one that’s laughing. “My point is, you’re not a violent boy, Figlio. Which means, for you to do what you did, it means you care an awful lot about her, and I’m sure both Mallory and Benji appreciate it.”
Dad looks over at me, a smirk covering the corner of his lips. “In fact,” he folds his arms across his chest. “I’m fairly certain that the only reason Crew didn’t press charges, was because he thought you defended her, as her boyfriend.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? She was clutching your hand so tight I'm surprised she didn’t yank your arm out of it’s socket when you stood up.”
“That’s just our friendship, you know. We lean on each other.”
“Amicizia,” He repeats over and over again. “That’s crap. You are head over heels in love with that girl.”
“It doesn't matter whether I am or not. She has a thing with someone else.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Who?”
“Gus.” I mumble. Fucking Gus.
“Russo?”
“Yup.”
“Huh,” He leans back in his chair, staring at the blank wall in front of us. “I don’t understand how she doesn’t see it.”
“See what?”
“You call her Dolcezza mia, and she still doesn’t see that what you feel for her isn’t friendship?” The door to the dean's office opens, and Mallory and Coach emerge, standing in the doorway, saying their goodbyes to Chester. “That girl is blinder than a goddamn bat.” He whispers to me as we both stand. Mallory makes her way to me, hugging my middle.
“Try not to punch any more of your teammates, Mr Ashby.”
“I promise, sir.” I say, cradling her head close to my chest.
He tilts his head at us, the corner of his lips tugging up. Jesus, no wonder Nick’s dad thinks we’re dating. He nods to me and closes his door.
“I’m sorry you got suspended,” she whispers into my chest.
“I’m not,” she pulls back, tilting her head to look up at me. “It just means that we have two weeks of non stop hanging out.” I say, flicking her nose.
She smiles. A mallory, megawatt smile, and suddenly, punching Nick was the best thing I've ever done.
Mallory moves away from me and heads towards my dad. “Sorry for dragging you all the way down here, Mr Ashby.”
“Oh nonsense, Mia Cara,” He wraps Mallory in a bear hug, clutching her head. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” she moves back slightly to nod up at my dad.
“Benji, we should grab a beer before I fly back out.”
Coach makes a habit of checking his watch mumbling about busy schedules, causing Mallory to roll her eyes. “I guess that would be fine.”
“Squadra Ollie,” My dad says to me, stuffing his hands into his pants pocket. Heading towards the exit. “Siamo tutti nella tua squadra, figliolo. Vai a prendere la tua ragazza.”
We’re all on your team, son. Go get your girl.
Oh, I plan to.