The Blood Catalyst

Chapter 18

Coach Santiago sat in his office with his phone buzzing non stop beside him. At first, he had picked it up, expecting it to be from a parent or maybe the school principal. But the first three calls were from reporters. Then four more. Then seven. He turned the phone over, face-down on his desk, and folded his arms, quite annoyed with it.

Since the race yesterday he had been getting non stop emails about it. He had even gotten called to the principals office to explain himself and it was quite tiring. The icing on the cake was hearing that his daughter had something to do with it only a few minutes ago. But he just brushed it off.

Vampire rumours? Possibly. Drugs? Absolutely not.

Outside, the hallway buzzed with end-of-period chatter and the sound of students moving to their next classes. He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the race report he was meant to submit that week. But the pit in his stomach only grew heavier.

A knock landed on the door suddenly and before he or any other coach in the office could answer, it burst open.

Two officers stepped in, flanked by a few members of school security. The main officer, tall and stocky, held a folded document in one hand.

"Coach Santiago? You're under arrest for suspicion of distributing performance-enhancing drugs to student athletes."

The office froze instantly. A few other coaches standing by the staff lounge across the hall turned to look. One of them dropped the paper he was holding.

"What? Are you serious?" Coach Santiago stood slowly. "You have no right—you don’t have any proof."

"Sir, you're not being charged yet. You're being brought in for questioning. But we have reason to believe there's evidence at your residence. Our officers are already there conducting a search."

"Evidence? Based on what? The fact that one of my runners wins races? You think that makes me a drug dealer?"

The officer didn’t answer. He stepped forward with handcuffs.

"Turn around, sir."

Coach Santiago looked around at the hallway again. Teachers, coaches, sudents passing by were all watching. "What the hell? Cuffs? I'm not a criminal. You're taking me for questioning so put the damn cuffs out of my sight."

"It is not up for debate."

"I know my rights," Santiago hissed. "I'm not letting you chain me up. Go do that for real criminals out there," he hissed. "If you want me in the station, fine. You want me in cuffs? No f*****g way that's happening."

*+*+*+*+*+*

Zara had just finished biology when the news started flying down the hallways. At first she had been thinking about Etha— his he pulled her into his chest the other day. How he noticed the things that bone else had. How he did not even want to leave her there. She has been thinking about that for the last few days and trying her best to avoid him because of how awkward it was going to be. But then suddenly, today she heard her name, her dad’s name, and the word “arrest” all in the same breath. It didn’t take long for her to confirm it—her dad had been taken in during school hours.

Zara heard it first from a sophomore she barely even talked to.

"Hey Zara, isn’t your dad the coach? Like, Coach Santiago?"

"Yeah, why?"

"They just arrested him. Right here. Like, in school."

She thought the girl was messing with her. Until two other people brought it up.

Then she got the text from Alanis. "Zara, I'm so sorry. The cops literally took him out of his office in handcuffs."

She didn’t wait for the bell. She grabbed her bag and walked straight to the front office. Her voice didn’t shake when she told them she needed to leave early and they didn't even question her much, knowing already what has happened. She just signed the form and left.

The walk to the parking lot felt longer than usual. A lot of students stared and kept whispering but she kept walking, her bag slung over one shoulder, her hoodie pulled halfway over her face.

“Zara!”

She stopped as soon as she heard that voice, her heart suddenly wanting to lurch out of her chest. It was of course, Ethan.

He jogged up beside her, frowning. “I heard what happened. Is it true?”

“Yeah,” she said, pulling her bag tighter. “And for your own good, steer clear of me.”

“What? No. Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Do you have a ride? I could take you.”

She looked at him, her face tired. “Don’t follow me home, Ethan. Don’t go to the station either. It’s risky for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just... don’t. s**t—" she hissed, sighting reporters from where she was. Ethan had already seen them, coming towards the two of them.

It was a risky move, but he did it anyways. He pulled Zara closer to him, and got a second too long, the wind whipped through her ears painfully but when she blinked, it had already stopped. Her face was still pressed closer to his chest, she could smell his cologne which was slightly intoxicating..

She blinked again and stepped back, surprised to see herself standing on the main road about fifteen minutes away from her house.

"You already know. Why are you surprised?" He asked with a sigh.

"I... I have to go," she said, leaving him immediately, but inside, her heart was racing.

She needed to get the lawyer’s number.

It wasn’t saved on her phone. Her dad was old-school so they kept all their important contacts in the telephone book in the kitchen drawer.

She got home in fifteen minutes.

The minute she opened the door, her stomach dropped.

The living room was a disaster. Cushions ripped open, bookshelves were emptied. Every drawer yanked out and spilled onto the floor.

"Hey!" she shouted.

From the hallway, a man stepped out. A police badge hung from his belt.

"Miss Santiago?"

"What the hell is going on here?"

"We're conducting a search of the premises. Official warrant was issued this morning."

Another officer came around the corner holding a ziplock bag filled with fine white powder.

"Found this in the laundry room cabinet."

"That’s flour. It’s literally baking flour. We ran out of counter space and put the spare pack in there."

"We'll still need to run it through our lab," the officer said. "Can't be too careful."

She felt her hands curl into fists. "Taste it. It's literally f*****g flour! You can't just—this is my home. You can't just treat us like—"

"We have a warrant," he said simply.

"Fine. Take it for testing or whatever the hell it is."

"We definitely will."

Zara bit her lip and pushed past them to the kitchen. The drawer had been dumped, too. She found the telephone book under the table, pages bent and wrinkled.

She flipped through it with shaking hands until she found Mr. Drew's number.

The lawyer.

She stepped outside to call him, gripping her phone tight to keep it from slipping. As the phone rang, her eyes wandered back to the house.

Her home didn’t feel like hers anymore.

He didn't pick up which annoyed her, so she sent a text to him.

Zara stared at her phone for a few seconds before finally pressing Noah’s name and holding it to her ear. It rang twice before he picked up.

"Yo," he said.

"Noah," she said quietly, trying not to let her voice shake. "Can you come over?"

There was a short pause. "Yeah, sure. Where are you? Are you at home?"

"Yes. I just... I need someone to follow me to the police station."

"The what now? Who did you kill?"

She didn’t say anything.

"Oh... that... Okay, I’m on my way," he said quickly.

Ten minutes later, Noah was at her front door, slightly out of breath, his cap turned backwards and his bag hanging from one shoulder.

"Hey," he said, glancing at her face. "You look like you have't done anything but pace around all day."

"You’re very observant," she said, grabbing her jacket.

"I know. It’s my gift. Also, what the hell is going on?"

"I’ll explain in the car."

They took a cab to the police station. Noah kept glancing at her the whole time, making weird faces now and then, probably trying to get her to smile. He even tried doing impressions of her dad.

"Zara," he said, in a serious, dramatic tone. "You must channel the wind. You must become the wind. You are the wind."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop."

"I’m just saying, if your dad starts handing out sage wisdom, I’m going to need to record it. Might turn it into a podcast."

She looked out the window. "He got arrested."

Noah was quiet for a while. "I know. I saw the stuff. I didn’t want to believe it."

"He didn’t do it," she said quickly. "He wouldn’t. He didn’t."

"I believe you."

When they got to the station, it was chaotic outside. Reporters crowded near the entrance, their cameras pointed in every direction. Zara pushed past them with Noah behind her, shielding her from elbows and microphones.

Just as they reached the front of the building, the glass doors opened and her father stepped out.

"Dad!"

He looked up at her voice, his face tired. A man in uniform followed him out and spoke briefly with the crowd, confirming that Santiago had been released and was not in possession of any banned substances. That didn’t stop the flood of questions.

"Coach Santiago! Are you saying you had no idea what Ethan Hunter was taking?"

"Is it true that the powder found in your house was planted?"

"Do you believe Ethan is using performance enhancers?"

Her dad raised his hand, trying to get them to calm down.

"Ethan is just a gifted athlete," he said. "And I have no reason to doubt his innocence. He has always proven himself through hard work and dedication."

Zara walked closer, staying just behind the reporters. She looked at her father, waiting for him to notice her. When he finally did, his face softened slightly.

They walked to the car together. Zara climbed into the front seat while Noah slid into the back.

Her dad started the engine and glanced at her.

"You didn’t have to come. I’m fine."

"I had to see for myself."

They drove in silence for a bit.

Then Zara asked, "Have you ever thought that maybe Ethan isn’t innocent? Not drugs but—"

Her dad frowned. "Zara. Don’t start with that nonsense.”