I couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t faring any better.
Failure.
Imposter.
Poser.
The words played on repeat in my head, swirling with all the nerves and anxiety I’d had before the game. I followed the last of the guys into the locker room and watched as most all of them dropped onto the seats in front of their stalls. The exception… Aiden. He lost his shit.
His helmet smacked the back wall of his locker as he used it to punch the wall. Will moved to say something, and I waved him off. As a former player, I knew what this felt like, and I knew how stifling and rage-inducing being told to settle down was. And I wouldn’t do that to my guys. The locker room was their safe space, and this was their opportunity to release their emotions without fear of reprisal. And since I couldn’t do for Aiden what I wanted, I gave him free rein.
With a roar, Aiden launched his helmet into the back wall, then dropped into his locker, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Close to thirty sets of eyes, some angry, some confused, some sympathetic, all turned from Aiden to me.
“Well, I think that about sums up how we all feel.”
Nods and small huffs of laughter filled the air before the small chuckles gave way, several of the guys were laughing hard enough to snort. One of them was Aiden himself. I was glad to see the kid wasn’t as volatile as that outburst looked and was able to calm himself once he got the anger out.
I gripped his shoulder as I addressed the team.
“The moratorium on our decimation can wait until tomorrow. Head to the showers, do all the aftercare you need, but…”
My eyes roamed over the players in the room.
“Come tomorrow, prepared to have your asses worked off. Spending the night drinking and fucking might not be the best idea, but that’s up to you. You’re all men. Go out if you want, but if you don’t show up tomorrow morning ready to fix whatever the fuck that was, well, you can explain to your parents and the press why the hell you’re riding the bench.”
I strode off, Hawk at my side, Aiden’s eyes catching mine. The boy looked close to fucking tears. All I wanted was to wrap him up in a blanket, cuddle him close, and reassure him this loss wasn’t all on his shoulders, because something told me that was how he felt.
Once out of the locker room and out of sight, I fell back against the wall. Will and the other coaches surrounded me as I scrubbed my hands over my face.
“We gotta figure out what the fuck happened.”
Will sighed, “They went in too cocky.”
“And the other team was hungry,” Joey Gilroy said.
Joey played junior hockey, never moving on to the collegiate level due to an injury. Despite that, he was a great guy with great instincts and a huge asset to the team. I opened my mouth to agree with their assessments, but bit my tongue when Leif Jacobs came around the corner, his ever-present phone in hand, his thumbs flying over the screen as usual.
Rising from the wall, I muttered, “Oh great, the Angel of Death is on the way.”
Will, Matt, and Joey all laughed. Leif was a nice enough guy, except he was all business all the time with a face that made you think if he smiled, his face would crack. Stone-faced didn’t come close.
“Coach Svartström, the media is waiting.”
I nodded, turned to the guys, saying, “Looks like it’s time to face the firing squad.”
Leif’s eyes darted between the four of us, and I sighed, waiting for him to balk. Only he didn’t, what he did was bite his tongue so hard you could see him do it.
“I’ll just go put out some more chairs then.”
He spun on his heel, and I called after him, “Be sure there’s enough for Weller, Elliot, and Doc Langley if he’s not busy with the team.”
Leif turned back, stared at me, his jaw worked double time before he nodded and walked away.
Matt and Joey’s eyes found each other as they moved to follow Leif while trying to contain their laughter.
Will shook his head as he said, “You’re determined to make him lose his shit aren’t you?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t doing it to be an ass, but the guy’s stoicism drove me fucking nuts. We all had a job to do, and yes, what we did was important for the school and the team, but the dude needed to unwind because being spun up tighter than a clamped-down spring.
