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Long Game
Author: Teagan Kade







“Larry, Curly, and Moe. What great, cosmic power decided to throw you three stooges into my lap?”

Dean Smith looks like she’s chewing on something particularly unpleasant as she says it. I can’t speak for my brothers, but the last place I’d want to be is in her lap. Given her personal hygiene, I doubt she’s been eaten out since World War II.

Colton leans forward in his chair. “Actually, our names are—” He’s silenced by the Dean’s hand.

“Did I say you could speak, dumbass?”

Colton looks across to me in surprise. He’s about to learn we’re not in high school any more.

Dean Smith prods a chubby finger at him. “You, Colton Beckett, are new to this, given you’re a freshman and all, but your two brothers here are regular visitors to my office, much to my displeasure.”

Hunter sniggers beside me. I’m struggling to keep a straight face myself. This bad cop routine is so cheesy I’m pretty sure Dean Smith’s going to pull out wine and crackers soon.

The Dean shakes her head, looking between us. “We’ve had familial groups like you before at Abbotsleigh during my tenure. There were the McIntyres—wonderful, smart boys, one of which is now a federal judge. There were the Hardy triplets back in ’09—excellent, studious sisters who’ve gone on to promising careers in the upper echelon of the business world.”

I’m getting ‘hardy’ picturing them.

The Dean’s eyes narrow. “But you Becketts…” She pauses. “You’re the kind of arrogant, sport-over-study assholes whose sheer presence muddies this fine institution. I don’t care if you know how to throw a ball, that you bring in sponsorships and endorsements. I don’t care Daddy’s a big lawyer from New York with more money than God. But what I do care about are my students—the innocent parties drawn into your debaucherous ways.”

I want to interject, remind her about the new library our father donated to the university just this year, but I hold my tongue.

She sighs, tapping the cell phone on her desk. “The university intranet is for scholarly file transfer, not for…” She holds the phone up. “What the hell even is this?”

I start to chuckle, a second away from losing it.

Colton’s somehow keeping it together. “It’s an Eiffel Tower,” he says, serious as a heart attack.

The Dean’s eyebrows jump up to her hairline. “A what?”

Colton points to the picture on her cell screen. “As you can see, this girl is performing fellatio on myself there while Cayden penetrates her vaginally from behind. We’re connecting our hands above her, to make what loosely looks like—”

“Enough!” The Dean slams the cell down on her desk.

Hunter and I explode with laughter. I don’t know how the fuck Colton got that much out without wetting himself.

Dean Smith taps the cell again. “Clarification, I do not need, Mr. Beckett.”

“Which one of us are you referring to?” I ask.

Truth is, we’re pros at this. It’s almost too easy to get a rise out her.

The Dean starts to smile, pushing her cell to the side. “Okay. Very funny. And hell, you’ve got me. This… sex act was performed off campus grounds. We can’t identify who posted it to the intranet or how they came to obtain it. It looks, god knows why, consensual, so my hands are tied, but know this. When you screw up, and just like your big brother, you will, I’ll be waiting here with Abbotsleigh’s one-strike policy to kick your preppy asses back to the East End. Am I clear?”

We nod in unison.

“Just give me a reason, boys. Just one,” she continues. “Now, get the hell out of my office. I need to order some eye bleach.”


I lean against Colton as we step outside. “First year inside and already you’ve got balls bigger than Hunter and I combined.”

Hands in his pockets, Hunter starts walking backwards to speak to Colton. “You forgot to tell her I was the one filming the whole ‘debaucherous’ spectacle.

I punch Colton in the shoulder. He stumbles away and almost hits a pretty redhead. “That was ballsy, little bro, but you’re marked now. The smarter play would have been to keep quiet.”

Colton laughs, head tilted back. “And I suppose you two football fagboys know all about the ‘smarter play,’ right?”

Hunter shrugs ahead. “At least we’re not jerking each other off on the lacrosse field all day.”

Colton stabs his finger at Hunter. “Fuck you, Joe Montana.”

“Lick my ass, stick boy.”

I push them apart. “Enough, enough. You want to fight, or you want to get laid?”

“Por que no los dos?” trills Colton, imitating the little girl from the Old Paso ad. “Why can’t we have both?”

I shove him again. “You’re buying.”


The campus bar doesn’t have a name, but everyone calls it ‘The Lab’ given its proximity to the science building.

The rest of the Trojans are here. They form a gauntlet for Colton, shoving him through.

“Where’s the rest of the lacrosse team?” shouts one of the boys.

“Practicing their ball-handling skills,” calls another.

Poor kid. He should have stuck with football like Hunter and I, but no. He wanted to be different.

Colton emerges from the gauntlet smiling. It’s all in jest, after all. He’s a Beckett. There’s a certain level of respect around these parts for that name.

Hunter and I wait with a couple of others at our usual table up the back, Colton arriving with a tray of drinks.

I pick one up. “What the hell is this?”

Colton places the others down. “The girl at the bar called it a ‘magic mojito.’ You said this was the Lab, so we should experiment, right?”

I swipe the cotton candy on top of my drink. It dissolves like a deflating balloon. “Looks like a fucking tampon. What happened to good, old-fashioned beer?”

Hunter’s already downed his. He wipes his mouth, addressing Colton. “The girl at the bar? That’s Lucy, and you just put down, what? A hundred for this round?”

“Two hundred,” replies Colton.

Hunter stands up, shouting across the bar to Lucy, who’s smiling with knowing. “Thank you very fucking much, Lucy, my darling.”

She salutes back, her nose piercing glinting.

I push the cocktail aside, speaking to Colton. “You’ve been played, baby brother. Lucy’s laughing her ass off over there.”

He looks confused. “But…”

I put a hand up. “What? Did you think she was going to suck your dick or something? Hate to tell you this, but you’d have better luck penetrating a Sherman tank than Lucy Love over there. Ain’t that right, Lucy?” I shout.

She throws her hands up. “I like girls. What can I say?”


Colton falls into his seat. “Ah, shit.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll learn, brother. You’ll learn.”

Someone picks up my glass. “What the fuck is this sissy shit?”

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