Hall for Casey to finish his interview. Even the House had been quiet when he’d left earlier to meet Casey at his dorm—where Casey had freaked out over what to wear despite having had his outfit picked out for weeks—since two thirds of his housemates had already gone home for the holidays.
Including Britton, thankfully, who, despite his threat after their fight, had more or less left Ethan alone since then. He’d taken Harkrader with him back to British Columbia since they’d both finished exams earlier in the week. And with Theo having left a few days ago to return to wherever he was from in Upstate New York, Ethan had had his room to himself.
Himself and Casey.
That had been . . .
Well.
Now that Ethan was nicely recovered from both his flare-up and the fight with Britton, he and Casey hadn’t hesitated in taking advantage of a bedroom to themselves.
He coughed once, his breath clouding the air, and shifted uncomfortably, overly warm in his thick coat, his jeans all of a sudden too tight. How much longer would Casey be?
After he’d helped Casey choose an outfit, Ethan had stopped by the tutoring center at the Student Union to leave a small gift for his tutor. Nothing major, just a gift card to the local café in town. It was paltry compared to how much help his tutor had given him—every exam he’d passed was because of her and he’d already scheduled his tutoring sessions for next semester.
The benefits of sucking it up and asking for help were definitely worth it.
And since he’d been at the Union anyway, he’d picked up materials on GH’s counseling services—grief counseling, specifically, which Casey had recently expressed an interest in.
Miracles did happen.
He patted his pockets to make sure the folded-up pamphlets were still there and—
“Rain.”
Coach Abshire headed toward him, long legs closing the gap between them before Ethan had time to register another soul in his vicinity.
“Uh. Hey, Coach.”
Stopping in front of him, Coach planted his hands on his hips. At six feet tall, it wasn’t often that Ethan felt small. But even though Coach was barely an inch shorter, his pursed lips and narrowed eyes made Ethan want to crawl away and hide.
“Why is it,” Coach said slowly, seeming to choose his words with care, “that I’m only just now hearing about your altercation with Britton?”
“Um . . .”
“You don’t think the fact that your team captain has been bullying you all semester was something I should know?”
Shoulders up to his ears, Ethan mumbled, “I don’t know if I’d call it bullying exactly.”
“When your sexuality is ignored and women are paraded in front of you, I call that bullying.”
“Who told you?”
“Your teammate wishes to remain anonymous.”
Theo or Harkrader then. Annoyance flared only briefly before he shook his head with a small laugh. Of course. They, along with Casey, had been pestering him since the fight to talk to Coach. Plus, he had half a dozen emails in his inbox from Mitch Greyson and numerous texts from Roman, all encouraging him to do the same.
“I want to know why you didn’t tell me.”
He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground, making a little divot in the snow. “I had it handled.” He didn’t need Coach’s eye roll to know he was unimpressed. “And I don’t want to rock the boat, you know? The team’s been gelling great and we’re in good standing. Saying anything would just cause drama for the sake of drama. I don’t need that. The team doesn’t need that.”
Coach mumbled something under his breath that sounded like “God damn martyrs.” Ethan opened his mouth to rebut when Coach said, “I’ll be having a talk with Britton in the new year, as soon as we’re all back. If he gives you any more grief, I want to hear about it.”
“Okay.”
Coach stared at him.
“Promise,” Ethan added.
Nodding once, Coach clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Enjoy your holiday, Rain. Make sure you rest up; I want you back to full form for our first practice in January.”
“Yes sir, Coach. Merry Christmas.”
As Coach left, Ethan dug his phone out of his pocket, took off one glove, and typed out a text in the group chat he had with Theo and Harkrader. I don’t know which one of you told Coach about Britton . . . but thanks.
Harkrader sent back a thumbs-up, Theo a smiley face emoji.
Huffing a short laugh, he glanced up—
And there was Casey, bounding toward him, wide grin lighting his eyes.
“Hey. How’d it