Rumors

by Phil M. Williams

  Caleb looked up, his brows furrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A crowd formed around the trio, Shane and Lance front and center.

  The brunette shoved her phone in his face. “That’s your little dick, isn’t it?”

  Kids from the crowd laughed, craning their necks to see the picture.

  “Look how small it is,” Shane said, eliciting more laughter.

  Caleb examined the picture of himself in front of the urinal, his penis in clear view. “I didn’t take that picture.”

  “But you sent it to us with that disgusting message,” the blonde said.

  “What message?”

  The brunette read from her phone. “Hey, baby.” She put her finger in her mouth as if she were gagging. “When I see you in school, I want you so bad. You’re all I think about. I want you to suck my cock, and I wanna blow my load all over your face. Text me back so we can make it happen. XOXO. Caleb Miles.”

  The crowd hooted and hollered.

  Caleb turned beet red.

  “Dude, that’s fucked-up,” Lance said.

  A girl from the crowd said, “Eww.”

  Another said, “That’s gross.”

  Caleb said, “But I didn’t—”

  The brunette slapped him across the face.

  Caleb held his hand to his cheek, stunned.

  “Don’t text me. Don’t even look at me,” the brunette said, her finger in Caleb’s face.

  “Me either,” the blonde added.

  Shane and Lance fist-bumped.

  CHAPTER 19

  Rick and the Big Eye in the Sky

  The football players filtered into Rick’s classroom for films. They were groggy, staggering, a few wearing pajama pants, and some with ice packs for various bumps and bruises from the night before. Many of the players carried brown bags from McDonald’s, doughnuts from Sheetz, and oversize energy drinks. Nobody spoke as the kids took their seats; communication was limited to nods, grunts, and gestures.

  Rick moved from his desk and stood at the head of the classroom. He stroked his stubbly beard, waiting for the last of the stragglers to find a seat. Quite a few kids had to sit on the floor. Two boys argued over floor space.

  “Shut up,” Rick said, the argument ceasing, the room now at full attention. “There’s no shame in losing. That team will probably be the 5A state champs this year. They’re a much bigger school than we are. That’s by far the toughest opponent we’ll see all year. I’m not upset that we lost. I’m upset at how we lost.” Rick paused, scanning the young faces.

  “I stayed up until two watching the film, and I learned a few things about this team and about certain individuals. The big eye in the sky doesn’t lie. If you played your heart out, the film showed that. If you played like a coward, if you laid down without a fight, the film showed that too. I scheduled this game as our first game of the season on purpose. I wanted to see what you’re made of. I wanted to see who I can count on and who’s gonna fold under pressure. There were some bright spots.” Rick looked at Drew Fuller, his middle linebacker. “How much do you weigh, Drew?”

  “About 180,” Drew replied.

  “You played much bigger than that. Drew was all over the field from the opening whistle to the final whistle. He didn’t care that we were down by four touchdowns. He didn’t care that the game was out of reach.” Rick looked at Jamar Burris. “And Jamar’s never played in a varsity game before. He gave us a spark in the fourth quarter. It was obvious to me that he was playing for the sheer joy of it.”

  “Yeah, because he was playing against the second string,” Shane said.

  Rick glared at his quarterback, sitting up front with his big breakfast and big soda. Shane still wore his pajama pants but had the time to put his diamond studs in both of his earlobes. “Think so, huh?” Rick said.

  “Yeah.” Shane took a drink of his soda.

  “How do you think you played?”

  “I did my best. It’s hard to make throws when you’re on your back the whole game. They gotta block.” Shane glanced at a few of the offensive linemen. “I can’t do it all by myself.”

  Rick nodded to his quarterback. “The offensive line play was porous. You guys looked scared and tired. You guys are better than that. We’re gonna step it up in practice. You guys are gonna be in better shape. That’s the last time you’re gonna get manhandled like that. One way or another, you won’t play like that again.”

  Rick narrowed his eyes at Shane. “It’s my job as the head coach to figure out where we can improve. To figure out who’s getting the job done and who needs to step it up. It’s your job to lead, to inspire these guys to block for you.” Rick stepped closer to Shane. “Inspiring quarterbacks take the blame for losses and give credit to others for wins. Inspiring quarterbacks encourage their teammates. You understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

  Shane dipped his head and nodded.

  CHAPTER 20

  Janet and the Watchdog

  Janet sat at her desk, thinking about Shane and last Friday’s football game. The first game of the season. It had been on her mind all weekend, and it still bothered her this Tuesday morning. Their opponent, the Lions, had been a much bigger school, but West Lake rarely lost, and Shane hadn’t played well. She thought about what Rachel had said. Did Rick really think Jamar Burris was better than Shane? It was only one game. Rick wouldn’t bench Shane after one game. Would he?

  Her desktop phone rang, waking her to reality. She picked up the receiver. “This is Principal Wilcox.”

  “Hello, um, Principal Wilcox. This is Greg Ebersole. I have kind of an emergency. I need to talk to you in private about something I found on the servers.”

  Janet sighed. “You don’t need to preface it, Greg. Just tell me.”

  “Bob Schneider visited some questionable sites on his school computer.”

  “What do you mean by questionable?”

  “Porn.”

  Janet paused, thinking about the thirtysomething coach. Bob Schneider was Rick’s offensive coordinator and probably much more in control of Shane’s success or failure than even Rick. “Could you come to my office immediately?”

  “I can do that.”

  “Do you have any printouts or evidence of his … activities?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bring everything here.”

  “Okay.”

  Janet hung up the receiver and waited, again the wheels turning in her mind. Bob’s transgression might be the perfect bargaining chip. A few minutes later, Greg Ebersole knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” Janet said.

  Greg stepped into her office, shut the door behind him, and loped toward her with a folder in hand. He forced a smile, his mouth closed. “Principal Wilcox.”

  “Sit down, Greg.”

  Greg sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. He was skinny and fat at the same time. His limbs and shoulders were thin and delicate, but he had a little belly pressing on his fitted button-down shirt, like he had too much gas. He handed the folder to Janet.

  Janet leafed through the papers. Bob Schneider had been quite active on adult sites. Apparently, he had a thing for cheerleaders. How cliché. A thought occurred to her. That really is a lot of activity. Did Bob just start doing this, or has he been doing this for a long time? The server automatically flags questionable activity, but it’s sensitive, so it flags legitimate activity too. Greg is supposed to be monitoring this every week. She looked up from the folder and narrowed her eyes at Greg.

  He looked down for a moment, then back to Janet.

  Janet shut the folder and set it on her desktop, doing this without breaking eye contact with Greg. “Something is very odd about the volume of activity.”

  Greg pushed his wire frames up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you do.”

  His pale face flushed scarlet.

  “Bob Schneider’s been working here for eight years, and he’
s never been flagged for this kind of activity before. So I’m supposed to believe that he’s never made any of these searches until now, or is it more likely that you’ve been neglectful in your duties?”

  “I have been checking flagged activity. It’s a lot of data though. It’s possible that I missed it in the past.”

  Janet frowned and opened the folder. She scanned the top page. “You missed DirtyCheerleader.com? How about BarelyLegalCheerleaders.com?”

  Greg swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “This is the first time I’ve seen this.”

  “Now that I believe. I think the reason you missed this is because you haven’t been doing your job. It would be very easy to go back and check the old data.”

  “That data’s deleted at the first of every month.”

  Janet nodded. “Convenient.”

  “I probably did skim the data too fast.”

  Janet took a deep cleansing breath. “Cut the bullshit, Greg. You were lazy. You and I both know it. But I’m willing to forgive and forget.”

  Greg’s slight shoulders slumped in relaxation. “Thank you.”

  “I do expect you to keep your mouth shut about this. If this gets out, I will hold you personally responsible.”

  Greg nodded. “What’s gonna happen to Bob?”

  “I don’t know yet. That’s for the school’s lawyers and Principal Pruitt to decide.”

  * * *

  Later that day, Bob Schneider entered her office, wearing a black polo and khakis, his lanyard and ID badge around his thick neck. The big man looked apprehensive.

  “You wanted to see me?” he asked.

  Janet sat behind her desk. “Shut the door.”

  He shut the door behind him.

  “Have a seat.”

  Coach Schneider sat across from Janet.

  “The tech guys went through the server, checking for inappropriate activity,” Janet said. “Do I need to tell you what they found from your computer’s IP address?”

  Big Bob squirmed in his seat, his face beet red beneath his beard.

  “Looking at pornography on your school computer is a fireable offense.”

  “Please, Principal Wilcox. I have a new baby at home. My wife doesn’t work. I’m really sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

  “I’d like to help you, but, if I give you a second chance, and you do something worse, then I’m on the hook because I didn’t take action.”

  Bob leaned forward, on the edge of his seat. “Please. I promise it’ll never happen again. I’ll do anything.” His eyes filled with tears.

  Janet tapped her index finger on the desk. She shook her head. “I shouldn’t, but I’ll overlook your … indiscretion.”

  “Thank you so much.” He wiped his eyes discreetly with the shoulders of his polo shirt.

  “My mercy comes with strings.” Janet pursed her lips. “I may need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Bob Schneider went back to his classroom. Janet scanned her personal texts on her phone. A message from Rachel caught her eye.

  Rachel: There’s a new Facebook page called West Lake Watchdog. You have to see this! LINK.

  Janet clicked the link, taking her to the Facebook page. The header of the page was a picture of the high school. The profile picture for the “West Lake Watchdog” was the paw print school logo. There were three posts. The first two had no likes, comments, or shares.

  West Lake Watchdog

  August 31 at 10:07 PM

  Coach Rick Barnett is NOT a good guy. Youse don’t know him like I do. If you want to know the truth ask his ex-wife. He is a cheat and a liar.

  West Lake Watchdog

  September 1 at 11:33 PM

  The school board needs to go. Bunch of corrupt old men.

  West Lake Watchdog

  September 3 at 11:14 PM

  The West Lake Wolf Pack lost on Friday because of Coach Barnett. Bad plays. Bad coaching. BAD COACH. WORSE PERSON. #FireBarnett

  5 Likes 1 Share

  Roger Elkins I agree. We have the best kids in triple A. Why play a 5A school? So stupid. They had like twice as many kids as we do. We could have been undefeated. Anyone could coach this team and win. Hopefully Barnett doesn’t screw it up. This team should win a state title. #FireBarnett 2 Likes

  Whoever this is, they’re starting to get some support. Janet replied to Rachel’s text.

  Janet: Any idea who’s behind the page?

  Rachel responded immediately.

  Rachel: I’ll give you a hint. We went to school with her older sister Breanna.

  Janet: Ha! I know who it is. How did you find out?

  Rachel: I’m still friends with Breanna. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, so please keep it a secret.

  Janet: Of course.

  CHAPTER 21

  Gwen, the New Girl

  Three cars were left in the parking lot. Gwen’s Jetta, Lewis’s souped-up Mitsubishi, and a pickup truck. Gwen yawned and turned back from her classroom window and her view of the school parking lot. I need some caffeine. She grabbed her mug, honey, and a teabag, and walked to the teacher’s room.

  Inside, she was surprised to find an attractive man sitting at one of the round tables. “Oh, hi,” she said.

  The man stood from the table and his food—a Subway sub and a bottled water. He swallowed and said, “Hello. I’m Rick Barnett.” He held out his hand.

  Gwen moved closer, set her mug with teabag and honey on his table, and shook his hand. “Gwen Townsend. I teach ELA.”

  “You’re the new girl.”

  She frowned. “I’m thirty-two years old.”

  “Sorry. That’s what people have been calling you, but I don’t think it’s meant as an insult. Supposedly, there’s this TV show called The New Girl. I guess you look like the actress, and, of course, you are new. I’ve never seen the show, so I couldn’t tell you one way or another.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about people talking about me behind my back.”

  “If gossiping was a sport, we’d win the state championship every year.”

  She laughed. “I’d like to stay out of it.”

  “So would I. Apparently, there’s a Facebook page dedicated to destroying me.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Yep. I refuse to look at it. This type of nonsense happens after we lose a game. I coach varsity football.”

  “I have quite a few of your football players in my creative writing class,” Gwen said.

  “If they give you any problems, let me know. We have a conduct policy. And, if they’re falling behind, also let me know. I’ll make sure they get their work in.”

  “I will. Thanks. Do you have a tough game this Friday?”

  “The Cumberland Vikings. They’re tough. We’ll have our work cut out for us.”

  “Well, good luck.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced over her head, at the clock on the wall. “What are you doing here so late?”

  “Research for a lesson. What about you?”

  “Practice went long today, and I still have some planning to do for my health class. If I go home, ESPN and my couch are too much to resist. I’m working on a health survey that the kids’ll fill out in conjunction with a food journal.”

  “That’s a great idea. These kids eat so much junk.”

  Rick blew out a breath. “Thanks, but I don’t know if they’ll listen. Every year we have more and more obese kids.”

  “Some listen. At least that’s what I tell myself.”

  “You’re an optimist.”

  “At my own peril.” She picked up her mug and honey from the table. “I should make my tea and get back to work.”

  He smiled. “It was really nice to meet you, New Girl.”

  She smiled right back.

  CHAPTER 22

  Caleb and the Goal Line Stand

  Stadium lights illuminated the field. No open seat remained in the bleachers, ma
ny people standing along the chain-link fence. Caleb stood on the sideline, his uniform spotless. No chance of getting into this game, not that he wanted to play. He’d probably screw up. The score was much too close for even the second string, much less a third-string loser like Caleb. The scoreboard read twenty-seven to twenty-one, the West Lake Wolf Pack on top. On third and five, Shane tried to draw the Vikings’ defense offside with a hard count, hoping for an easy first down and an end to the game. But the Vikings were disciplined. Coach Barnett stood next to a referee, watching the play clock tick down. As soon as it hit one, Coach Barnett called a time-out.

  He turned to Coach Schneider, the offensive coordinator, and said, “Run the zone read.”

  Coach Schneider nodded and trotted out to the huddle during the time-out break. The game clock now read 1:08, and the Vikings only had one time-out. The Wolf Pack needed a first down, and they could kneel themselves to victory. If they didn’t get the first down, they could punt it, hopefully pinning the Vikings deep, making their offense go the length of the field to win. They were on the fifty, and they had an excellent punter, so that was a good possibility. Still, the best-case scenario would be to get the first down and to end the game right here, right now.

  Coach Schneider jogged back to the sideline.

  “What’s the play?” Coach Barnett said to Schneider.

  “Shane wanted to throw the smash route.”

  “I told you to run it.”

  “They’re gonna pack the box to stuff the run,” Schneider said. “The pass’ll be wide open.”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “I told Shane to throw the hitch for the first down, and, if it’s not there, to tuck it and run.”

  Coach Barnett shook his head.

  The crowd noise increased as Shane took the snap and dropped back to pass. The hitch was open, but Shane threw the deep-corner route to his favorite target. Lance was double-covered, and the Vikings’ safety stepped in front, snagged the interception, and streaked down the field.