Walking across campus to the Athletic Wing felt like walking to my own funeral. Students were whispering as I passed. Some were pointing. I saw a group of hockey fans holding their phones, probably watching the replay of me hitting Max.
I walked into Coach Mike’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, looking at a laptop.
"Sit down, Liam," Coach Mike said. He didn't sound angry; he sounded disappointed, which was worse.
I sat. Your Dad called me. Do you have any idea what you've done? The scouts are calling him, asking if his son has a mental problem. You acted like a criminal on that ice."
"I protected my teammate," I said, keeping my voice flat.
""Liam, the board met this morning. Because of the violence and the fact that you attacked a player from behind... they are stripping you
