A strange conversation to have with Sebastiaan Koning, Adonis thought.
“No,” he said. “I’m not afraid of her. But I don’t always agree with her.”
“What do you mean?”
He wondered if he should answer honestly and decided that he would. “Sometimes I think my mother’s only goal is for me to win a medal in the Olympics. It seems like she sometimes sees meonlyas someone who can win a medal, as if her love is based on how well I do in my competitions. When I don’t do well, she’s not happy. When I do well, she is. She would never say that, but I think it’s true. She was in the Olympics herself. Won a model, but never did as well as she wanted. I think she wants me to be what she couldn’t.”
“Are there really parents like that?” Bash said. “This sounds like a movie.” He was dressed, now, except for his hockey gear. His arms were crossed, and his expression was calm and interested.
“There really are.” Adonis was suddenly embarrassed by how much he had shared. He laughed, hoping the laugh would make it seem less serious. “What about you? Are you a hockey player to fulfill all your parents’ unrealized hopes and dreams?”
“No, I am not,” Bash said comfortably. “My parents don’t even like that I play. They would like it if I moved back to Amsterdam and joined my father’s company.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. But they don’t control what I do. They know that. They think that hockey is dangerous. It is dangerous.”
“I guess you’re going to say that you like danger?” Adonis sat on one of the benches and began to lace up his shoes.
“No. Why would I like danger? I like hockey.”
“Why?”
“Because I am good at it.” Bash thought for a moment. “I’m strong, and it makes me feel how strong I am. Does figure skating make you feel strong?”
The question made Adonis pause. “When I do well, it does.”
“What about when you fail?”
“When I fail?”
“Yes.” Bash touched his left shoulder. “I had an injury in the Frozen Four last year. I couldn’t play for weeks, and I am still recovering. I still feel strong, though, because I know I am strong. Do you still know you are strong even when you fail?”
Adonis thought about what his mother said when he failed a routine. He didn’t feel strong then, no. When he failed, he felt like a failure. “I don’t know,” he said.
“You should figure that out.” Bash shut his locker. “It was good to see you, Adonis. I hope I see you again.” He looked around the locker room. “Maybe not here, though.”
He clapped Adonis on the shoulder when he left.
Chapter 5
Bash
“Get your shit together, kid. You might not be on the starting lineup, but you’re still one of the captains, and I expect you to act like it.”
Bash nodded. Coach Kurtzman was strict, but Bash liked it. Coach said precisely what he meant. Bash respected that.
“I know you’re pissed you’re not starting. Get over it.” They were sitting at the Rink next to the boards. The other players hadn’t arrived yet. “The other guys looked up to you,” Coach Kurtzman continued. He was a tall man, a former hockey player himself. He was rough and broad, with a gray beard and skin that always looked suntanned. “If you show them that you can still play how you’re supposed to, even when you’re not starting, that’ll be good for them.”
His gruff demeanor softened. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to start your senior year. But trust me. This will be better for you in the long run. If you push yourself too hard right now, you’ll re-injure your shoulder. We’re gonna need you at the top of your game later in the season.”
Bash nodded. It made sense. He’d been angry at the checkup when Coach told him he wouldn’t be starting. Anger wasn’t helpful. Not like this. He knew it wasn’t really anger. It was the fear of not being good enough or the shame. He knew that he was good enough. He would be fine; he would play well. He would regain his strength and rejoin the starting lineup when the time came.
“I’m sorry for what I said at the checkup,” he said.
Coach Kurtzman grinned. “You know I don’t speak Dutch.”
“And you know what I said was inappropriate.”
