“Saved by the bell, Coach,” Isaac said as he waddled past Will on his way to the ice.
“I hate you all, do you know that? I hate you all!”
The tunnel echoed with laughter that drowned out the thundering penguin walk of a hockey team. Our joyful, lighthearted dynamic might have been different if we hadn’t snagged a playoff spot already. Tonight, the guys played for the joy of the game. Win or lose, it didn’t matter for the postseason.
I held myself back, waving Will and the other coaches on.
“Trey. Hang back for a second.”
“Yeah, Coach?”
I waited until we were alone in the tunnel.
“I called Merkel.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know why they’re leaving talent like yours on a college bench.”
His eyes looked everywhere but at me. Finally, he gathered the nerve to ask, “What did he say?”
“What’s he told your dad?”
“Dad refuses to call him.”
I nodded. That sounded just like the Donnie Malachek I knew. “Well, he toldmehe wanted to see more impulse control. You’ve got a reputation for being a hot-headed player on and off the ice.”
Trey’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded.
“That means, put your head down, focus on school and hockey and less fuckery.”
His eyes grew wide.
“You don’t gotta be a monk, but maybe quit fucking around and getting shitfaced in public. The front office, and Merkel especially, don’t put up with bad publicity. They’ll fine your ass or put you on the bench.”
He nodded, and I saw the wheels spinning. So I added, “I’ve convinced him to bring you to camp this summer.”
Trey’s eyes lit up, and I gripped the back of his neck, giving him a little shake. “Just get out of your own way. You understand? And remember… your last name is Malachek, but Trey Malachek only has to be Trey Malachek, not anyone else.
His eyes turned glassy, and he nodded. “Yes, Coach.”
He trudged off down the tunnel, and I followed, stepping behind the bench as he skated onto the ice to warm up. I nodded at Shane, Mikal, and Anya. Mikal turned the second half of the season over to his assistants so he could support Aiden.
Shane’s season was over. He’d be heading to Nashville, too, having also signed to play for them. I fully expected him to be occupying one of our guest rooms, even though his grandmother bought a condo in Tennessee for him. The kid knew the lifestyle, so Aiden and I could be who we were without worry.
When the starting lineup hit the ice, they did their usual hype routine as the announcer introduced the team. The very one Aiden started when he came back from his injury. My boy played better with every game since his comeback. And that was saying something since he’d scored a hat trick that night.
The puck dropped, Aiden fought hard for it, but the kid from Rainier State took the face-off. The game got underway. It was difficult to watch. But then again, every game was. No matter how many games I coached, the desire to be out on the ice with the players never left me.
I glanced at the clock. The Lumberjacks were up with four minutes left in the third. We weren’t pulling this one into the win column. That was for damn sure. The guys played like they wanted to win, but not like they had to win. Rainier State tookadvantage of some critical errors, scoring on us during both of Trey’s stints in the sin bin.
That boy.
I should’ve saved my breath, because I felt like everything I said went in one ear and out the other. There wasn’t anything I could do other than keep reminding him that Trey Malachek, and his dad and grandfather, Donnie and Donald Malachek, were three very different men and players.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the clock. Another minute left. I’d get hell from the school for checking it, but what could they do… fire me. I was leaving as soon as the season ended for us.
I pulled my phone from my pocket to see a group message from Asher and Bauer Holt.
