A Different Side (University Park #4) (69 page)

Mr. Marshall and Steve arrived and Mom finally shut up. Shortly after that, Josh and Shelby walked in, followed by Shawn and Kyle. Luke and Delaney were the last to arrive, looking like they had just rolled out of bed or had a quickie somewhere.

“Ready, Raven?” Mr. Marshall asked. Even his demeanor had changed. Long gone were the hearty chuckles, pats on the back, and calling me
son.
He had stuck his neck out for me one too many times and I had burned him. I couldn’t expect him to do it again. I’d screwed up.

“Yeah.” I nodded and followed him to the chamber of torture.

“Y’all wait out here. Steve will come to get you when it’s time,” Mr. Marshall instructed as he held the door open for me.

“Good luck, baby.” Lexi reached for my hand and I turned around. Her lips turned up in a small smile and her eyes glossed over. She always had the glass-half-full mentality, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to agree with her. The negativity had consumed me, leaving no room for optimism. Maybe because I knew what the verdict would be.

“Thanks.” I gave her a quick kiss on the lips and went inside.

The same committee members were sitting at the front of the room. Coach sat at the end of the table, his hands clasped and his head low. He shot me a quick glance and then lowered his eyes. With blank stares and non-welcoming smiles, I already knew what they were going to say.

I walked to the table positioned in front of them. With each step I took, my legs became heavier, barely allowing my feet to move. The sullen feeling of the room seemed to suck me further into oblivion of hopelessness. I stumbled to the chair and fell into it. The door shut, like a dungeon closing, and I jumped. It took me a few seconds to pull myself together. I unbuttoned my suit jacket, grabbed the bottle of water to the right of me, and took a drink.

Mr. Marshall released a heavy sigh as he sat next to me. His stiff posture and lack of words revealed his disappointment. He pulled a folder from his briefcase and slid it to me. He and Steve had prepared another statement for me, like last time. I opened it, trying to recall what we’d discussed, but the conversation was fuzzy. The words blurred, and my eyes and nose stung with the threat of tears. I wasn’t the crying type, but an overwhelming amount of sadness hit me. Crying and begging wouldn’t do any good, so I took a hard swallow and pushed the pity pleas aside.

“Mr. Marshall, Raven,” Mr. Flores, Director of Admissions, acknowledged us. “Thank you for coming today.”

As if I had a choice.

“Thank you for reviewing my case,” I announced, sounding weak and pitiful instead of confident and bold, like I normally did.

Mr. Flores glanced at a stack of papers in front of him and folded his hands. Leaning forward, he said, “I wish we didn’t have to, Raven. Especially since we were here three months ago.” His voice was raw and cold, causing a shiver to hit the back of my neck.

“I know,” I responded in a low voice, staring at the paperwork indicating my charges from South Padre Island Police Department.

“Raven,” Mr. Tucker, Director of the Board of Ethics, spoke up, “the Ethics Committee is responsible for overseeing the conduct of students and ensuring they comply with university standards. When the Code of Conduct has been violated, it is our responsibility…”

He rambled on and on, as if I needed reminding.

“In reviewing the charges resulting from the altercation that took place the night of March eighteenth, we have found it is a clear violation of PHU’s Code of Conduct. You were also involved in one other altercation on campus, your freshman year, which resulted in a warning.”

It took me a second to recall the situation that happened near the beginning of the semester at a frat party. If taking up for your teammates was wrong, then fuck them. I wanted to remind them I didn’t start the fight, but that hearing was in the past. It was pointless to argue. “Correct,” I reluctantly admitted.

“You were also dismissed last spring for possession of marijuana. You successfully completed the drug rehabilitation program and were allowed to return for the summer semester. In January of this year, you were placed on probation due to an overconsumption of alcohol and incidental intake of prescription drugs. You were required to attend counseling with Dr. Galen, which you are currently doing…”

Did this asshole have to recount all my mishaps?

I tried to focus on what he was saying, but the toxic thoughts flooded my mind. Using every tactic in my toolbox, I worked to extinguish them, but they burned right through my thin level of defense. I was no match for them. Balling my hand in a fist, I pressed it against my mouth, holding back the scream dying to escape. Why wouldn’t they leave me the fuck alone? Hadn’t they already took enough from me?

“Yes, correct,” Mr. Marshall spoke up and I returned my attention to the conversation. “But, as indicated, the level was .09, which is only .01 over the legal limit. The Breathalyzer is not an accurate tool, even though it is widely used and accepted by law enforcement.”

“We understand that, Mr. Marshall,” Mr. Turner acknowledged his plea. “But the validity of the test stands. Therefore, PHU does consider it when making decisions. Raven’s instructions were not to consume alcohol and to submit to random drug and alcohol urine tests.”

“Guys, he only had two beers, come on.” Mr. Marshall lifted his hands.

“Regardless, he did not follow the conditions we set forth. We clearly stated no alcohol. Aside from the drinking, he was involved in another altercation resulting in a ticket for disorderly conduct.” Mr. Turner removed his glasses. “PHU has standards it must abide by, and we have been extremely generous with giving Raven several chances to prove he is worthy of being a student and participating in the athletics program.”

“Yes, you have, and we appreciate it,” Coach Anderson spoke up, giving me a weary look.

Mr. Turner set down his glasses and folded his arms. “At what point do we say enough is enough? Raven has not—”

“The Athletics Department wants to reiterate that we uphold PHU’s Code of Conduct and expect our athletes to adhere to the rules,” Mr. Kenny, Director of Athletics, broke in. “Raven has been given several chances, but has shown dedication not only in his academic work, but in the football program. His teammates look up to him, despite his misfortunes,” his voice lilted, “and they do consider him a leader. He has led this school to two winning victories and if it weren’t for him, PHU wouldn’t be receiving the support or funds from it’s alumni, fans, and sponsors.”

Mr. Turner uncrossed his arms and pressed his hands on the table. “So, what are you saying, Mr. Kenney? That PHU athletics is more important than academics and student conduct? That we should just overlook his poor decisions and accept them?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Marshall whispered under his breath.

That comment almost had me smiling, but the growing tension in the room told me where this conversation was headed.

Mr. Flores stood up. “Gentleman, we are not here to argue about the importance of our athletics program. No doubt, it has provided funding and support we have never received. And yes, Raven has directly contributed to these results. At the same time, we have rules to abide by and although exceptions can be made, there comes a point when we have to draw a line in the sand.”

Mr. Flores took a few steps in my direction. “Raven…” his voice deepened and my heart stopped. He made eye contact with me and I broke out in a cold sweat. The demon voices echoed loudly in my ear, reminding me my football days were over. Lexi wouldn’t want to be with a guy without a future. She deserved someone better than that — that someone like Collin. The room narrowed and all I saw were his lips moving.

“Raven,” he said my name and I blinked. “We are sorry, Raven, but we have made the decision to dismiss you from Park Hill University, indefinitely. You will not be allowed to finish this semester or re-enroll at the university. Which also means you will not be apart of the football team.”

His words hit me like a solid brick wall, knocking the wind out of me. I tried to breathe, but my lungs refused to cooperate. It felt like I had a ten-man pile-up on top of me. The more I inhaled, the tighter my chest became, until I felt like I was hyperventilating.

“We will allow you to continue counseling with Dr. Galen for the next year. In fact, we encourage it. You will be required to return all athletic property…” he continued talking, but I couldn’t process what he was saying.

It was over for me.

Everything.

Gone.

All the hard work, years of training — out the window for two fucking beers. There would be no more football.

No going pro.

No future.

No hope.

I wouldn’t even be able to graduate from PHU. Without a degree, what kind of job would I have? Flipping burgers at Whataburger wasn’t what I had in mind. I wanted to play football and now that dream was over. Forever.

“Raven, I’m sorry. I tried,” Mr. Marshall apologized repeatedly. His efforts meant nothing to me. All of this had been for nothing. My fate had already been determined. Raven Davenport was nothing but a big ass loser.

“Yeah, yeah…” I pushed the chair back, knocking it to the floor. I had to get out of there before I tore up the place.

“Raven, wait,” Coached called but I ignored him, pushing through the heavy wood door.

I stumbled into the foyer, dazed and confused. Lexi and my mom sat on the benches outside, along with all my friends. The floor tilted to one side and I struggled to breathe.

“Raven?” Lexi darted in my direction. “What happened? Tell me. What did they say?” She tugged at my arm, but I ignored her, unable to speak. I stopped at the end of the hallway and grabbed the railing, leaning over it, trying to steady my racing heart. My chest hurt and my stomach was pulled into tight knots. I stared at the floor. Never had I considered killing myself, but in that moment, it seemed like a viable idea.

“It’s over, Lexi,” I managed with a heavy breath.

“What’s over, babe?” She extended her hand and then retrieved it. Even she didn’t want anything to do with me. “Tell me.”

I pushed away from the railing. “Everything!” I grabbed my necktie, feeling my throat tighten with every movement. My fingers worked frantically, but between the shaking and dizziness, I couldn’t undo it. My vision blurred and my nose burned.

“Baby, talk to me. Please?” Lexi took a step back, her eyes widening in fear. The monster in me was making its grand appearance.

“Fucking shit!” I yelled as I fought with the fabric. I needed relief. Relief from the constraints holding me back. I stopped messing with the damn tie and grabbed the sleeves of my suit jacket. In one quick tug, I ripped them off my body and threw them to the floor.

“Bro, you alright?” Josh stepped behind Lexi.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I seethed, ready to hit anyone or anything that got in my way.

“Okay, just calm down,” Shawn held out his hands as he neared me, “everything is going to be okay, man. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Easy for you to say!” I thrust my finger in his face.

“Son, stop, please. You’re scaring me.” Mom latched on to Lexi’s arm, crying hysterically. But no amount of tears could calm the demons within me.

“Everyone just get the fuck away from me.” I pushed through, needing my space. With one yank, I ripped the tie off my neck and threw it down.

“Raven, baby.” Lexi pressed her hands together, tears streaming down her face. “Please, tell me. What do you mean by everything?”

“Just…everything.” I turned around and ran down the stairs, not looking back. The demons had full control.

Σ

Chapter 45

I haven’t lived a perfect life. I have regrets. But that’s from a lifetime of taking chances, making decisions, and trying not to be frozen. The only thing that I can do with my regrets is understand them.

~Kevin Costner

I hated life.

I hated myself.

Most of all, I hated that I fell in love with Lexi.

I didn’t deserve her. She was better off without me. How could she want a guy like me? A guy with no future, no hope, and no direction. The only place I was headed was down — where I belonged. The monsters in my head were right all along. I was stupid to think I could defeat them. Dr. Galen had it all wrong. Even his so-called
helpful tactics
failed me.

“Damn, I didn’t think I’d ever find you.” Shawn crouched next to me.

I looked at him with weary eyes. Between the liquor and tears, I had to do a double take to make sure it was him and not some guy ready to start shit. “That’s because I didn’t want anyone to.”

“I hear ya.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I smirked. “What’s there to talk about? What’s done is done. The decision’s been made. I’m out.” I cut the air in front of me, like an umpire signaling an out in baseball.

“You’re too good of a player to be done.”

“Whatever.” I laughed. “PHU doesn’t think so.”

“The hell with PHU. You’re moving on to bigger and better things.”

My eyes narrowed and I stared at him, trying to understand his comment. It didn’t matter. Shawn was talking shit, trying to make me feel better. It wasn’t helping. Then again, I really didn’t care. I didn’t think I’d take getting kicked off the team and out of school so hard. All the times I’d made fun of Josh, telling him he obsessed too much about going pro, and look at me. I held the bottle to my lips and let the warm liquid pour down my throat.

“I’m telling you, there’s a pro team out there that wants you. Maybe it’s New Orleans…maybe it’s Seattle, who knows. But your football career isn’t over. It’s just getting started. It may be too late for the draft, but it’s not too late for the supplemental draft in July.”

I waved off his pathetic pep talk. “Shawn, do me a favor and shut the hell up. I’m not going to be drafted. No one wants a punk ass loser full of drama and issues when there are better, less risky players available.”