I look over my shoulder and see Coach glaring at me, and I know I’m in for an earful later. I don’t care. That fucker is going to get someone seriously injured. I’m not sure why I feel responsible for being the one to take care of the situation, but here I am.
I skate my way into the locker room, then slam my shit down and walk over to the bench in front of my locker before I unlace my skates, tossing them into my cubby. Resting my elbows on my knees, I bury my face in my hands.
“Fuck,” I yell into my hands. “Fuck.”
Wrenly and Ryan just saw all of that.
Every second of it.
Fuck me.
TWENTY-ONE
ELI
I takemy time showering and dressing, the entire place feeling empty, something that hardly ever happens. Sitting on the bench in front of my locker, I listen to the rest of the game as it echoes throughout the space.
There’s a television in the corner of the main part of the locker room, and I could watch it there, but it seems wrong. I don’t deserve to even watch the game at this point, and if I did, it would feel as though I’m doing something wrong.
I fucked up.
I took everything too far.
And Wrenly and Ryan saw. Jesus, they saw with their own eyes, live and in person, that I have it inside of me to take it there. They saw my anger, my rage. I hate that. I didn’t think about them seeing that part of me—ever.
Let alone today.
The television blares, but the noise from the stadium is even louder. I count in my head every single goal by the Vortex. By my calculations,we win. What feels like hours later, the team comes in, and then it’s confirmed for me by the excitement that fills the room—it vibrates.
We win.
We are one step closer to the Cup.
No thanks to me.
Daniel is the first one who greets me. He wraps his arms around me, picking me up off the floor, then sets me down. My legs feel the tingling sensation from feet to thighs at being slammed back down on the floor. His eyes find mine, his smile as big as the fucking sky, and he shouts.
“We’re on our way.”
I’m not as happy as I should be, mainly because I had absolutely nothing to do with the win. In fact, I could have cost them the whole game. Guilt and self-doubt consume me.
Before I can respond to Daniel, I hear Coach shout my name, and not in a happy-go-lucky kind of way. Daniel’s eyes widen. My jaw clenches. This is going to be so damn bad, and we both know it.
Nobody says a word to me as I move past him, past them, making my way toward the coach’s office. Closing the door behind me, I walk over to the chair across from his desk and sink down.
Waiting.
I know that whatever he’s going to say, he’s going to be straight up pissed off about it. Sliding my palms down my thighs, I try to wipe the sweat away. Dipping my chin to my lap, I wait for him to tell me just how badly I fucked up.
“I knew this wasn’t going to be your best game,” he states.
My head flies up. My eyes meet his. Watching him in silence, I wait for him to say something else because I know that I fucked up bad.
“I’m sure you realize that you will be benched for the next game. It’s the rules, and even if they weren’t, I would bench you.”
Fuck.
“At this point, I’m not sure if you’re stable enough to play the rest of the games. You’re under contract, and I see no reason to look into the specifics of your contract because I know you’re going through some shit right now. But you need to get your head on straight. I won’t harp on you about it, but I’m not going to let you fuck this up for your teammates, either.”
