Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Ripped - 17. Chapter 17
Declan stopped by the Auxiliary gym after his own practice that afternoon to find the gymnastics team still there working. Bailey was on the floor and actually noticed him peeking in the small window. After a quick glance around, Bailey had trotted over to the nearby water fountain, waving him in.
Declan slunk into the gym, earning himself a few sharp glances from the rest of the team. He edged along the wall to where Bailey fiddled with a loose piece of athletic tape wrapped around his wrist.
"We have a late practice today, since we didn't do quite as much gymnastics yesterday as we usually do," Bailey explained with a slight smirk.
Declan grinned at the thought of yesterday's disaster of a practice. It had definitely shown both teams just how different they were athletically. The football team had struggled through most of the gymnastics team's conditioning, as it focused so much on flexibility and agility and core strength. And then the gymnastics team was left huffing at all the running and sprints with the extra weight of football gear hefted on them.
Well, everyone except Bailey. He could still see the shock and awe from his teammates faces when Bailey had stepped up to Chris's challenge to join their scrimmage. And even more, when he'd actually been good. The coach had joked about stealing him away from Coach Richards. Richards, of course, hadn't been amused.
Declan glanced around and noticed that Coach Richards wasn't in the gym, but Rodney was. "Where's your coach?"
Bailey shrugged. "He had a meeting to go to. Asked Rodney to supervise since no one was scheduled for the weight room and he has a gymnastics background. He's stepped in once before."
"Huh. I didn't know that. Okay, well, text me later?" Declan said, turning toward the door.
"You could stay for a bit, you know," Bailey offered. "If you're interested."
Declan turned and grinned. "Yeah, maybe I'll hang out—"
"McIntyre!" Rodney yelled, sounding just like Coach Richards. "You planning on standing around all day?"
They both chuckled as Bailey headed back to the blue carpeted floor. "No, sir!"
Declan watched as Bailey got lost in his practice, his face totally focused on the skills. Declan couldn't help but gasp a few times when he thought Bailey was going to fall or crash. After a minute or two, he took out his phone and snapped a few photos, catching Bailey flipping in the air and pressing into handstands. He even flipped it over to the video side and recorded as Bailey ran through the floor routine he'd be doing on Saturday for competition.
His phone vibrated in his hand, and he homed back to the main screen, opening Evan's text.
E: <planning on meeting us for dinner or bailing again?>
Declan wasn't sure if Evan's use of the term 'bailing' was a euphemism for meeting with Bailey again or not. He decided to ignore it.
😧 <heading that way now>
He tucked his phone away, sneaking out without distracting Bailey. He hurried out of the gym building, through the Colonnades to Grainger.
Walking past the administration offices towards the dining hall, Declan glanced in the open doors as he often did, waving at the secretaries or staff members. He paused as he glanced in the infirmary and noticed Trip holding up his shirt to show the nurse a bad bruise on his ribs with a gash in the middle.
"And how did you do that, Mr. Carter?" the nurse asked with a raised brow.
Trip shrugged. "My roommate and I were fuc—um, were horsing around, and I fell into the edge of my desk."
The dark bruising had Declan's mind flickering to Bailey's back, and Chris's blow to his stomach. How bad had Bailey been bruised? He swallowed thickly, watching as the nurse clucked her tongue and led Trip to the back where she could patch him up. Bailey had had no one to help him.
Declan shook his head to himself as he took a few more steps down the hall. His eyes landed on the open door of the Dean of Students.
Mr. Zamora had an open-door policy, as did practically all the staff at Heritage Academy, even though Declan hadn't heard of anyone actually just dropping in to talk to the man. Usually, if you were speaking to the dean in his office, it wasn't by choice. Fortunately, most small discipline problems were handled effectively by the staff—coaches dealt with team problems, residential staff took care of issues in the dorms. The Dean of Students took charge if it was a little more serious, and maybe even a disciplinary committee would be called. So if someone had to see the Dean, it probably wasn't just a small matter.
Staring into Mr. Zamora's office had Declan's heart racing all of a sudden. He could see Mrs. Lewis typing at her desk in the outer office, and the door was partially open to the Dean's actual office. Even from here, Declan could hear the murmur of voices from inside Mr. Zamora's office.
Could he talk to the dean about it? Should he? His hands fisted at his side, his palms clammy with sweat.
Maybe he should try to convince Bailey talk to the Dean about what had happened. But then... he knew Bailey would never do it, and Chris would get away with bullying Bailey. Of course, it would be his and Bailey's word against Chris and Eric's. Would Coach Reed side with Chris to keep from having his star quarterback sidelined?
"Did you need something, Mr. Foster?" the secretary called gently out to him, obviously having seen him just standing outside the door.
That jolted him into action, and he nearly lurched inside the office. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd... I'd like to see the Dean, if he has a moment."
The secretary, Mrs. Lewis, smiled warmly up at him. "Of course. He's talking with a couple of staff right now, but if you'd like to wait a few minutes, I'm sure they'll be done soon."
Declan glanced anxiously around the front of the office. Now that he'd made a decision to tell someone about what had happened last week, he felt both relieved and nervous. He rubbed his sweaty palms down the front of his thighs before sitting on the edge of one of the waiting chairs.
Declan couldn't see anyone inside the Dean's actual office, but he could vaguely make out voices as Mrs. Lewis rose to gently knock on the open door. Obviously, she wanted to let the Dean know he was there, especially with the door open.
"... something is going on, Tony. I'm worried..."
Knock. Knock.
"Yes?" the Dean's voice rose.
Mrs. Lewis poked her head in. "Excuse me, sir, but you have a student who'd like to talk to you."
"Oh, okay, certainly. Just give us a moment. We're pretty much done here."
Mrs. Lewis smiled and discreetly closed the door behind her. Declan had to admire how she'd prudently warned the dean that someone else was now in the office, as well as securing the privacy of the meeting that was happening.
It was only another minute or two before the door reopened. Declan's eyes widened when he noticed not only his own coach exiting the dean's office, but Bailey's as well.
He swallowed hard, wondering what had caused those two coaches to get together with the dean.
"I'll schedule a meeting with the entire staff," Mr. Zamora assured the two coaches. "If you're seeing problems within your teams even after all you've done, then we need to look at this as a global school issue."
"Something has to change," Mr. Reed added before all three of the men turned and noticed Declan sitting there.
A note of surprise crossed the Dean's dark Mediterranean features. Mr. Richard's brow quirked up, and Coach Reed frowned slightly.
"Mr. Foster, what brings you by this afternoon?" Mr. Zamora asked.
Declan rose, eyeing all three men. "Um, well, I-I think t-there's something you need to know about."
Mr. Zamora's brow rose as he glanced at the two coaches. All three exchanged a look that had Declan wondering if they already knew.
"Please, come into my office." He waved at the open door. "Would you like to speak privately... or perhaps have your coach join us?"
Declan's eyes darted to Coach Reed. Oh, yeah, he was pretty sure they knew something was up. Declan nodded. "Yeah, Coach Reed might want to stay. And-and so might Mr. Richards."
"I see. Very well, let's all take a seat inside, shall we?"
Declan hovered just inside the door waiting to be told where to sit. Or maybe they'd make him stand. Fuck, why had he decided to come in here at all? Now that he was here, this didn't feel like such a great idea. He felt like he was going to puke all over the Dean's desk.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. "Declan," his coach said softly, "relax. I can tell whatever you have to say is weighing heavily on your mind, so just calm down and take a breath. We're here to listen."
Dean Zamora waved his hand toward the leather couch and chairs set up to the side of his office. Declan stepped passed the older man, noticing for the first time that the dean was actually shorter than himself. Actually, his coach was only a couple inches taller than Declan as well. Huh.
Declan settled on the edge of one of the chairs. The two coaches took the couch, while the dean sat in the other chair.
"Yeah, um..." Declan hedged, again rubbing his sweaty palms on his khakis. His breathing hitched. Oh, God, I can't do this... I can't destroy the team... I...
"Declan." Dean Zamora's voice drew his attention, and Declan realized he'd been staring at the floor. He looked up and noticed the man was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. "Maybe it would help if I started, hmmm?"
Declan nodded, darting glances at the two coaches.
"Mr. Richards and Mr. Reed here have brought an incident to my attention that happened last week. A little 'rivalry' between the football team and gymnastics team resulting in some sort of contest in the weight room."
Declan bobbed his head again, thankful the man was attempting to make this a little easier for him. "Yes, um, B-Bailey McIntyre and I ended up doing a pushup contest."
"I see. As I understand it, Chris Vasser and Justin Greene were the primary instigators in the confrontation, is that correct?"
Declan started to nod but stopped. "Actually, it was Chris and Eric. Justin and t-the other g-gym guys just sort of stood up to them. I don't think anyone meant it to get so screwed up."
Well, that wasn't exactly true. Chris had to know his goading would incite the other team.
"I know Mr. Reed has already spoken directly with Mr. Vasser in private about his, shall we say, attitude towards other teams, and we will be taking further steps to assure all the students become more aware of what is involved in athletics outside of their specialty. In fact, I understand yesterday they tried that out by having the gymnastics and football teams practice a little together, to foster better understanding of the respective sports. However, based on rumors that have been floating around the student body, the coaches and I are concerned that the issue has already escalated." The dean stared thoughtfully at Declan, who had to drop his gaze. "Could what brought you in here today have anything to do with that?"
"Yes, sir." Declan had to get this out, but he looked up at his coach, worried about what the man would think. Would he think Declan was being disloyal to the team? Destroying their chances at making the playoffs? If he spoke up, the dean would have to discipline Chris, which would probably mean at least being kicked off the team, maybe even suspension or expulsion.
"Chris was harassing Bailey afterwards. After the push-up thing, I mean. He was pissed that Bailey... that a 'flyboy' as he calls them... beat me. I-I was pissed too, but-but I didn't act on it," Declan finally blurted out.
All three men straightened in their seats. "What do you mean, you didn't act on it? Did someone else? Did Chris?" Coach Reed demanded.
"I'm so sorry, Coach," Declan continued. "I know he's the best quarterback we have, but—"
"But nothing!" Reed snapped, looking incensed. "Foster, if a student—any student—is intimidating or bullying another student, I don't care who he is, he deserves to be punished. And he certainly doesn't deserve to be on my team, much less lead it."
Declan felt a little tension slip from his shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir, I just didn't want to hurt the team."
"I can understand that, but there's more to being a team than winning. You have to be able to trust and look up to your fellow teammates, Declan. Do you feel like you can do that?"
Declan fisted his hands, his resolve solidifying at his coach's words. "No, sir, I can't."
"So would you like to tell us what brought you in here today?" Dean Zamora prompted.
Declan looked up, meeting the man's eyes. "Chris and Eric attacked Bailey off campus, roughed him up some. They forced him to 'admit' on camera that he supposedly cheated in the push-up contest to make our team look bad."
All three men stared at him stunned. Dean Zamora recovered first with a small cough. "Uh, maybe you should start at the beginning."
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I need to." Declan sighed as he relayed everything he knew, even admitting to his own insecurities. But as each word flowed out, he felt the heaviness threatening to crush his soul slowly lifting.
Yeah. This was right.
****
"Where the hell have you been?" Evan demanded. "I've texted you like five times. You said you wanted to meet up at the dining hall, then you didn't show up. Again, I might add."
Declan dropped his backpack on the floor, feeling both mentally and physically exhausted. "Sorry. I was with the dean."
Evan froze, his jaw dropping. "Oh, shit. The dean? As in Dr. Zero-Tolerance Zamora?"
Declan plopped back on his bed, smiling at Evan's automatic assumption that Declan seeing the Dean of Students must have meant he was in trouble. He'd spent the rest of the afternoon, into the early evening relaying his story for a whole mess of administrators—including the headmaster, Dr. Lansing—and subsequently, being interrogated about the details: did he think Chris and Eric acted alone? Yes. Was Bailey seriously hurt? No, he didn't think so. What happened to the videos? He had deleted the text thread from Eric, not wanting them on his phone, not thinking about them as evidence. Did Chris or Eric still have them? No, he thought they had both deleted them as well...
And on and on. He'd been exhausted by the time they had finished, but Mr. Zamora had requested the dining hall to send up food for everyone since it was past dinner time. He'd eaten awkwardly surrounded by the dean, headmaster, counselor, coaches, and a half dozen or more others. They had told him that they would be contacting those involved, getting statements, and maybe seeing if the IT department could retrieve the videos, and Declan had a twinge of guilt for disrespecting Bailey's desires to not say anything. Dr. Lansing, the headmaster, had thanked him again for coming forward before Declan was finally dismissed.
"I'm not in trouble," Declan huffed. "I actually stopped by to see him myself."
"Really? Why?" Evan sat on his own bed across from Declan.
"Because you were right, and I was being an asshole listening too much to Chris's 'we are the best' bullshit," Declan sighed.
Evan squinted a confused frown. "What does that have to do with talking to the dean?"
"Because you and the guys, and Justin and Bailey and..." he dropped off realizing he didn't need to name everyone, "... and well, you made me re-think what's important. Somewhere along the line, probably sometime last year when Chris took over as captain, I guess I started losing sight of that. And it's been twice as bad this year. I've been focused on the team, on winning, on being the best, the strongest, the—"
He lifted his pillow, dropping it over his face before half-yelling into it. "God, how have you put up with me, Ev?"
His roommate chuckled. "Because you are still the Declan I met when I first came here two years ago. You weren't that bad last year, but, yeah, I did start to see some football macho bullshit—"
"Bailey called me a sports bigot," Declan blurted.
Evan gaped at him for several long seconds before busting out laughing. He fell back on his bed, rolling to his side, holding his stomach he was laughing so hard.
"What's going on?" Micah appeared in the bathroom doorway from the other side of the suite. "What's gotten into him?" he directed his question to Declan since Evan was still rolling in a fit.
Declan scowled at his roommate before answering. "He finds it hilarious that Bailey McIntyre called me a sports bigot."
A choked snort came from Micah, and Declan turned his glare to his suitemate. "It's not funny."
"Oh, it's freaking awesome!" Micah burst out. "You're talking about Bailey, the little guy who you did those push ups with, right?"
Declan didn't even bother to answer; they knew exactly who he was talking about, the jerks.
"I can't wait to tell Logan."
Declan rolled his eyes. "We don't have to tell anyone. Yes, I've been a little arrogant about football and—"
"A little? This school year so far you've been downright cocky. So okay, the team is doing well, crushing the teams you've been playing. But the other sports teams here, at Heritage, aren't competing with you. We're all supposed to be supporting each other. Yeah, there's always been a little bit of good-natured ribbing, but, Dec, even you gotta admit the football team has become rather full of it this season."
Declan nodded. "Yeah, but it's not the whole team. Only a few who've made it bad for everyone."
"That's true. It's mostly Chris, Eric, Eddie... a couple others... you..."
"Eddie and the others are newbies, they're following Chris because he's the captain. I don't think they're bad guys, just... new."
Evan had finally stopped his fit of laughing and sat up. "So back to the original point, why were you in the dean's office?"
"You were in the dean's office?" Micah's voice pitch up in shock before Declan could even open his mouth.
"Yeah, I—"
"Who was in the dean's office?" Logan abruptly appeared behind Micah, who immediately pointed at Declan.
"Oh, crap, what'd you do?" Logan demanded, worry etching his voice.
Declan sighed heavily. "Jeez, guys, calm down. I actually went to talk to him. About stuff that happened Friday at the Square. With Chris. And Bailey."
Logan and Micah's eyes widened as they shoved further into the room, seeking front row seats for Declan's story. Micah shoved Evan over to sit on the end of his bed, while Logan grabbed Evan's desk chair and sat in it backwards, his long arms draped over the back.
"So? Go on."
Declan finally shoved himself up. "I can't really say too much. Dr. Lansing said, since it's a disciplinary thing, I can't give out a bunch of details."
"Lansing? The headmaster? I thought you went to talk to the dean?" Evan frowned in confusion.
"I did. When I went to Mr. Zamora's office, Coach Reed and Mr. Richards were there as well. I suggested they stay. I think they already suspected something was going on. They said they'd heard students talking about what went on in the weight room and the problem seemed to be escalating, not dying down as they'd expected.
"So anyway, they stayed, and I told them how I..." he hesitated, wondering what his friends would think of him for his lack of action concerning Bailey's bullying by Chris. "Well, how I found Chris kinda beating up Bailey, getting him to make this fake confess—"
"Beating up Bailey?" Evan's voice nearly came out a squeak. "You let him— You watched while he—"
Declan was already shaking his head. "No, no, I came upon the end of it. By the time I got there, Chris was pretty much done—"
Evan narrowed his eyes. "Pretty much? What the hell does that mean?"
"Shit, Evan. I was scared, okay? Give me a fucking break. I froze. I didn't know what to do at the time, but I managed to send Chris and Eric away, and made sure Bailey was alright and everything."
There was silence for several moments before Logan spoke up. "So you decided today to go tell the dean?"
"Well, yeah sort of. It wasn't really a decision, more like a spur of the minute thing. And then he called in, like, half the administration. I've been stuck in a conference room all evening telling them what I knew. They said they'd be calling Bailey and Chris and Eric and who knows who else to investigate it."
"Damn. This is going to get ugly. Chris could be expelled."
Declan nodded solemnly. "Yeah, he could be."
Micah cocked his head to one side. "So what made you decide to turn him in now, after waiting so long?"
Declan clutched at his pillow. "I don't know. Like I said I was scared. I didn't want to be the one who destroyed the team, our winning record... But... but then I've been hanging out with Bailey the last couple afternoons..."
"Is that when he called you a sports bigot?" Evan laughed again.
"He what?" Logan chuckled as Declan wished for laser beam eyes to kill his roommate with just his glare.
"Yeah, yeah, I apologized and he called me a sports bigot, yadda yadda yadda. Then we really made, I don't know, a real kinda connection... and I'd asked him if he wanted to hang out." Declan could practically feel his cheeks heating up at the surprised looks on his friends faces. "We talked a bit Monday on his way home and then again yesterday at the deli."
Evan's smirk suggested he knew Declan might have an interest in Bailey as more than just a friend. "Does he have anything to do with why you suddenly decided to run at the ass-crack of dawn today?"
"Maybe." Declan grinned.
"Why didn't Bailey turn Chris in himself?" Logan cut in. "Wouldn't he want to have Chris punished for what he did?"
"Bailey's a lot different than I'd expected," Declan admitted. "He said it wasn't worth it; apparently, it's happened to him before and it wasn't a good outcome. He said he was used to it, and he just wanted to forget it."
"So when are you and Bailey getting together again?"
"I don't know. He was busy with practice this afternoon; he's got a meet coming up." Declan bit his bottom lip.
Declan pulled out his phone to check it again. He had texted Bailey, wishing him a good night. He'd checked it a couple times on the way back to the dorm. Still no new messages.
Evan rose, stepping over to pat Declan's shoulder. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you, Dec. It's nice to see the old Declan finally making an appearance."
Declan just grunted, not sure it was really that much of a compliment, since he knew deep down he should have stepped up sooner. His phone beeped, and he immediately thumbed it open to check the message.
Suddenly, his phone was whipped out of his hands.
"Hey!" He reached to grab it back out of Evan's grasp, but Evan danced away, holding it aloft.
His roommate's grin was pure evil as he took in the. "Well, well, well, what have we here," Evan nearly sing-songed. His grin faded as he skimmed the messages. "Well, that's fucking boring. 'Have a good night.' 'You too.' Nice pic though," Evan added, noticing the profile picture Declan had added to Bailey's contact information. "Got any others?"
"Give me that," Declan demanded, lunging to snatch his phone back, as Evan danced out of his reach. "I took it so I could put his picture with his phone number in my contacts, that's all."
Evan smirked back at Declan, waving the pictures he'd discovered in the gallery section of Declan's phone at Logan and Micah. "So many of them?"
Declan groaned as he knew Evan was flipping through the pictures he'd taken today. "
"In action too. Damn, look at this guys." Evan held out the phone for Logan and Micah to see. Declan buried his head in his pillow.
"Nice." Micah nodded. "He always seems to be swimming in his clothes. Didn't know he had so many muscles. But then he did whip your ass."
Declan huffed, rolling his eyes as he reached again for his phone. "I think you've seen enough."
"Oh, no, hold up, let me check the rest—" Evan stopped abruptly, the playful smile disappearing into a deep frown as he stared down at the phone.
Micah was cocking his brow in curiosity, and Logan was shrugging at Evan's odd sudden change in demeanor. Declan moved to stand, wondering what Evan was looking at.
"What the fuck is this, Declan? Why do you have this shit on your phone? I thought you were interested in Bailey, not screwing him over with Chris," Evan snapped hotly.
His roommate's fury nearly had him backing away. Declan's heart pounded in his chest as he looked at what Evan was seeing.
The video.
The one Eric had accidently sent him.
The one that very explicitly showed Chris threatening Bailey while kneeling on his back.
Oh, holy hell.
Declan stared in shock at the video still playing silently. "I-I t-thought I deleted it. Eric sent it to me on accident. Chris told him to send me the 'confession' video, but he sent this one first. It freaked me out, and I... I swear I deleted it. Along with all my texts from Eric."
He looked up to see Evan still staring at him with narrowed eyes. "I swear, Evan, Micah, Logan," he addressed each of his friends individually, "This..." He waved at the video. "... was over before I even arrived. It's what prompted me to find Chris and Bailey."
Evan's scowl softened, obviously believing his entreaty. "Seeing that just makes me hate Chris even more. I didn't like him before, but now... he's showing his true colors there."
"I-I've got to take this to the dean," Declan's voice was pitched with a tinge of panic at realizing the video was on his phone still, his hand clutched the phone as he immediately turned toward the door.
"Dec, calm down," Micah coaxed. "You can do it first thing tomorrow, okay. The dean and headmaster would be gone already."
Declan stopped, feeling a little lost. "Oh, yeah, right. I'll do it tomor—"
Declan jumped as his phone vibrated in his hand and his message tone played loudly in the near silence. He glanced down to see Bailey's phone number and a new text message.
And his heart started thudding all over again.
"Well, speak of the devil," Evan grinned, trying to snoop over Declan's shoulder. "Come on, see what he has to say!"
Declan scowled over his shoulder at his roommate. "We're just gonna talk, ya know."
Micah waggled his eyebrows. "But you like him, don't ya?"
"You know, you guys are worse than a bunch of teenage girls. Go the fuck away." He turned his back on them, heading for his bed. Laying back down, he eyed his three friends who were staring at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes. "Bunch of girls," he muttered again under his breath.
He opened Bailey's text asking him if he wanted to meet up again tomorrow, and he smiled, eliciting cackles from his friends. He flipped them off before rolling over on his bed and texting Bailey back.
Declan fiddled with his phone for a few more minutes, thumbing through the pictures and videos he'd taken. He did swipe back through to the gallery to verify that the incriminating video really was there, that it hadn't been his imagination.
"Oh, fuck." He dropped the phone next to him, his hands covering his face as a suddenly realization hit him.
"What?" Evan looked up from his own phone.
Declan rolled his head to look at his roommate, noticing that Micah and Logan had apparently returned to their room. "I just realized that Dr. Lansing and Mr. Zamora will probably ambush Bailey when he comes in tomorrow. They'll want his side of the story. They may even try to get him to press charges against Chris and Eric."
"Probably. I think he should sue their asses off," Evan added his two-cents worth.
"God, I hope he doesn't hate me for telling."
"Who? Chris? Who the hell cares what he thinks?" Evan snapped.
Declan glared. "No, you idiot. Bailey. He seemed rather adamant about just letting it go," Declan moaned.
Evan looked up, meeting Declan's eyes. "Whatever he thinks, you still did the right thing, man. If you didn't say something, Chris would probably continue to harass him, or maybe even somebody else. And even if he does get a little mad with you, I'm sure he'll understand why you did it. Eventually."
"Great. Thanks so much for the pep talk, Ev."
- 70
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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