Chapter 12 - Coach Brody Wasn’t The Only Coach Who Knew
The review expanded.
Not publicly.
Publicly, Hawthorne said Coach Brody was “temporarily away from team duties.”
Everybody online assumed scandal.
Inside school, rumors were worse.
Merritt bought players.
Tyler is ineligible.
Coach is fired.
College offers disappearing.
None were confirmed.
Assistant Coach Lewis ran practice.
It was terrible.
Half the team was distracted.
The other half pretended not to be.
After practice, Malik Owens stopped me.
“You talk to Coach?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Why?”
Malik looked around.
“My aid came from Merritt too.”
I stared.
“You knew?”
“My parents knew it was foundation money.”
“Did they know he chose you?”
Malik shrugged.
“They knew Coach helped.”
That mattered.
Not every family had been kept in the dark the same way.
“What did Merritt ask you to do?”
“Events.”
“Did you think it was tied to tuition?”
“No.”
“Your parents?”
“Ask them.”
Fair.
Jordan joined us.
Malik continued.
“Coach Lewis knew too.”
We both turned.
“What?”
“He was at the dinner when Merritt asked Brody why I missed the dealership opening.”
Jordan frowned.
“What happened?”
“Brody said I had an SAT prep thing.”
“And Merritt?”
“He said something like, ‘We all make time for the people making time for us.’”
I felt sick.
Not because it proved a crime.
Because I knew exactly how a seventeen-year-old hears that sentence when the speaker helps pay his tuition.
Malik said:
“My dad told me not to worry about it.”
“Why?”
“He said rich guys always think donations buy gratitude.”
Jordan asked:
“Did your dad complain?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Malik laughed.
“Because we needed the money.”
The honesty shut us both up.
This wasn't one coach corrupting innocent families.
It was a system full of people with different amounts of power deciding what inconvenience they could afford.
Malik looked at me.
“Your dad got another way out.”
“He took cafeteria work.”
“Exactly.”
I bristled.
Malik raised both hands.
“I’m not insulting him.”
He looked toward Jordan.
“My parents can't do that. My mom works nights. Dad drives for the city. Neither can switch jobs for school tuition.”
Jordan nodded.
My first instinct had been to make Dad's choice heroic.
Malik complicated that too.
Dad had options some families didn't.
A useful benefit.
A local job.
Another parent contributing.
Not everybody could reject donor money on principle.
I said:
“So what should happen?”
Malik laughed.
“Why are you asking me?”
“I don't know.”
“Good.”
Everyone was infected now.
That afternoon, Karen Sloan asked the team to meet in the gym.
She told us eligibility decisions would be individualized.
No blanket suspensions.
Families who had no knowledge of donor designation would not automatically be blamed.
Coach Brody remained out.
Merritt Foundation funds were frozen pending review.
One player asked:
“Are we still playing Friday?”
Karen answered:
“Yes, unless something changes.”
Another asked:
“What about scouts?”
“Scouts make their own decisions.”
Silence.
Then Malik raised his hand.
“What happens to tuition?”
The whole room changed.
Karen answered carefully.
“The school will not remove any student midyear because donor funding is paused.”
Good.
Then:
“We will work with each family on replacement aid.”
I thought of Dad behind the cafeteria counter.
Jordan thought of his mother.
Malik stared at the floor.
I finally understood why Dad had moved so fast in August.
He hadn't only wanted me eligible.
He wanted to remove one weapon uncertainty could use against us.
After the meeting, Coach Lewis stopped me.
“Tyler.”
I turned.
He looked exhausted.
“You should know Vince Brody wasn't the only person who knew Thomas wanted his giving directed.”
I waited.
“I knew.”
“Why didn't you say anything?”
“I told myself Financial Aid had approved it.”
“Did you check?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Coach Lewis looked toward the empty court.
“Because we started winning.”
There was no better excuse coming.
May you like
He knew it.
So did I.
