What if I couldn’t hack it?
What if I let everyone down?
I tried to keep my anxiety about, well, everything under wraps so Coach and Anya weren’t aware, but I caught them eyeing me over the last few days, so I felt positive they had an inkling. At the very least. Then there was the issue with Coach Muncy.
The guy got caught gambling. Specifically, gambling on college hockey was ahugeno-no. Players and staff weren’t allowed to gamble. It was part of the league regulations.
He wasn’t the type of guy I wanted to play for, but to achieve my goal of making it to the pros, I needed on a D1 team, and this was Coach’s school, so I sucked it up and signed on the dotted line. But now he was gone. At least with him, I had an idea of what to expect. This new guy I didn’t know at all. No one really did. He’d been a recluse for years and years after taking a puck to the head.
“I know it’s scary, Aiden, starting over somewhere new, but at least Coach Muncy is gone. The man was an asshole.”
“But this assistant coach…”
“Will Grigor was a terrific player. And he’s been just as effective off the ice as an assistant coach. He will do everything he can to keep this team moving forward and winning games. You focus on the things you can control… mindset, food, hockey, and school… and leave Will and the coaches to their jobs and the university to theirs in finding a new head coach.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did, but my thoughts spun around in a whirlwind. A blender on high went slower.
“We’re here, kiddo.”
I glanced around and sighed. This area of campus didn’t look so intimidating. Unlike the enormous, brick-and-stone buildings we passed, which felt like some medieval, old-world town where everything was about status, money, and who you knew.
Oh! Wait! That’s what a lot of these big-name schools were. Without Coach’s name and reputation behind me, I was sure I wouldn’t have gotten in.
I grabbed Coach’s arm and he stopped, driver’s door open, half in, half out of the car as he looked back at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Does Coach Grigor know you’re my dad?”
Like Anya, he beamed at the name. I needed to get over myself and start calling them my parents, Mom and Dad. They were the best thing that ever happened to me. My birth mom, what I could remember of her, tried as best as she could, at least that’s what I told myself, but her addiction was just too strong. And my sperm donor, in my opinion, was a waste of space. Who left their kid behind when they couldn’t deal with their wife’s drug use?
Coach’s… Dad’s big hand gripped my shoulder, giving me a little shake. “Yes, but he’s assured me that no one will be told unless you tell them.”
A deep breath filled my lungs, and I exhaled heavily. I didn’t want special treatment.
“What are you guys waiting for? This stuff won’t carry itself upstairs.”
Anya’s voice pierced the air as she came toward us. She’d driven my SUV so I could sleep on the way. It would be the last time I got to sleep in for a while. So I’d taken full advantage of it for most of the trip.
We piled out of the truck, and Anya sent me off to check in while she directed Coach… Mom sent me off while she directed Dad as to how she wanted things unloaded and who was to carry what.
My parents, being who they were, got us on campus so early that there wasn’t even a check-in line yet.
“Sport?” The girl behind the check-in table asked.
“Hockey?” I responded, taking a step back to ensure I approached the person behind the hockey sign, not the football sign.
The guy sitting behind the football sign bit his lip, and while it might’ve kept him from laughing, his face said exactly what I was thinking.
“Name?” she asked.
“Aiden Mercer.”
The doors behind me opened. I turned to see who it was, gulping at the sight of one of my fellow teammates.
Holy freaking hell.
Donald “Trey” Malachek.
