Page 21 of Forever Defiant
“Yourblogimplied this program,myprogram, was corrupt!”
“And that implication was defamatory,” Dean Cole said firmly. “Which is why the article was removed, and why Miss Peterson was put on academic probation.” He glanced at me before returning his attention to the head coach.
Removed.
Not disproven. Not corrected. Removed. I had a real story, and they claimed I jumped to conclusions. Without proof, I had nothing.
“Using sources as thin as she did was a grave error on Miss Peterson’s part, and she has been under supervision for many months.” Dean Cole’s gaze flicked to my hands and back to me. “Her school record is very good, her grades have improved—” he gave me a small smile — “and her blog has remained offline.” He turned to look at the coach. “In fact, she received a near-perfect grade on her media ethics paper.”
“Near perfect?” Coach Sutherland grunted. “That impresses you?”
Dean Cole’s smile shifted slightly to almost a patronizing one. “There are no right or wrong answers in ethics. It’s more about interpretation and how a reaction to an action affects the individual. What is morally right for one may be harmful to another. Therefore, there are no set answers. It’s about interpretation and the why, not the how.” Dean Cole turned to me. “Hence, the near-perfect grade. Everything is open to interpretation. Well done, Hadley. Your paper was very impressive.”
“Thank you.” I hadn’t been expecting that praise, and I wasn’t sure how to react.
“As fascinating as that is, my decision hasn’t changed.” Coach Sutherland looked ready to ask us both to leave. “I have training to attend. Winning championships doesn’t come withoutdiscipline.”
“Ah, of course.” The dean didn’t make any move to stand. He turned back to me. “Tell us why you want to cover this team, Miss Peterson.”
Lie. Really well.
No wonder my ethics score wasn’t perfect.
“I was enthusiastic last year.” I ignored the snort across the table. “You’re right, Dean Cole, I didn’t check my sources, I didn’t double-check facts. I thought I had something juicy and ran with it.” I shook my head. “Inexcusable really. Headline news, social media breakout stories, they warped my perception. My blog was taking off, I was getting traction, and I went for sensationalism, instead of taking the time to stop and think.” I looked over the desk at the coach and hastily looked back at the dean. “It was wild, not thought out, and reckless. I triple-check everything now. I search multiple media sources to ensure what I am using, learning, and repeating can stand up to scrutiny.”
“That’s very encouraging to hear,” the dean said. “But it doesn’t answer the question.”
This time, the snort was derogatory to us both, but the dean never batted an eye.
“I want to redeem myself,” I said simply. “I want to write a feature on an aspect of this team that complements the hard work that goes on here, is truthful, and reflects the athletics program.”
“No.”
Dean Cole exhaled loudly as he turned to face Coach Sutherland, his patience with the older man waning. “At Wrighton University, we believe in second chances.”
Coach Sutherland leaned on his desk, eyes locked on the dean’s. “In this department,myword is final.”
Holy shit.
Chapter 6
Hadley
The dean didn’t blink, and I was scared to breathe, worried they might both remember I was in the room.
Dean Cole sat back in his chair and assessed the man across from him.
Coach Sutherland was probably handsome in his youth, but a life well lived, sun-weathered skin, and, dare I say, the arrogance of believing he was the best had dulled his complexion over the years. His hair was clearly dyed, and I don’t think anyone had told him it wasn’t working in his favor. It was obvious that Coach Sutherland was ‘old school,’ and by that, I mean he was a bully.
“Are we done?” the head coach asked as he mirrored the dean’s pose and sat back.
I was. I was ready to leave. The atmosphere, which had been cool, was now frigid.
Dean Cole, however, must have been ready for arctic conditions because he simply crossed his legs, picked a piece of lint from his pant leg, and flicked it to the floor.
“Alas, we are not done.” His smile was sharp as a razor. “The education of our students, whether they are participating in the program or preparing for assignments that carry a significant percentage of their grade, is our priority.”
“I don’t need the lecture,” Coach Sutherland muttered.
