“Either.”
“This shit wouldn’t fly. If I was captain of the team, I’d rip into this guy and give him two choices. Either be a part of the team or transfer.” Michael looked down the aisle before continuing. “Helsing doesn’t seem too upset. Your captain does though. Look at Erikson.”
My dad hoisted himself up in the seat to stare down the bus. “Erikson, Helsing, get up here.”
The bus filled with tension as the two leaders on the team approached the front. Everything fell silent. No chatter, no radio, no sounds of players shuffling things around. It was pins and needles.
Whoosh.The bus doors opened, and after two stomps, Cal was on the bus. Even though I didn’t watch the team, I knew who Cal Holt was. The poster child for the Central Wolves hockey team.
The kid raised his brows and held up his hands. “I’m here, I’m here. We can leave now.”
No one responded. The kid scoffed and rolled his eyes before passing our row and taking a seat further back in the bus. Once we were on the road, my dad, the two captains, Hank, and Michael had a long discussion.
I tried listening to music, but it didn’t work. I was pulled into hearing how my dad talked about morals, leadership, teamwork. About how much he cared about shaping young men into good, decent, humans. The team was family for life, and that meant everyone.
My eyes got heavy, and I leaned my head against the window. I might have issues with my dad, but one thing was glaringly clear—he was agoodcoach. He never applied those same principals about family to his own though.
That was the part I couldn’t understand. How could a man be so good at one thing but neglect the other?
CHAPTER FIVE
Michael
Sitting outside the bench was weird. I’d been to one Central game since moving here a year ago, and I couldn’t say I enjoyed it. I’d watch them on TV, but being this close to the ice and not playing felt like watching an ex fall in love with someone else and flaunt it.
My friends from back home, Patrick and Paxton, were in the NHL. My sister’s boyfriend was about to play his senior year while I sat here, not even with the team, next to the coach’s daughter—a woman who had walls higher than my sister’s boyfriend.
Feeling sorry for myself again, hm?As I watched the team come back out for the second period, a deep longing had me in a funk. It happened from time to time. Grief did that to you. Ryann talked everything out and had Jonah to help her through those moments where she felt lost, just a vessel without a purpose. I used to have hockey. My chest tightened.
God, I missed my dad. Four years wasn’t that long ago, and the urge to call him never went away. Advice on school, life, girls. He had all the answers. My mom would roll her eyes and poke fun at what he said, but his words always helped me.
Figure out what you want and go for it. Make a plan to get there.That’s what he told me when I was eighteen and going to Moo U. I wanted to play hockey. That was it. That was my goal.
Once that chapter had ended, I needed to get the hell away from the memories. I achieved that. So, now...what was my goal?
“Oh, wow.”
Naomi’s eyes were wide, and she stared at the ice with her mouth slack. The chick had a cool-ass dad and was acting like she’d never been to a hockey game before. I deserved an award for not throwing her major shade. “You’ve seen a hockey game, right?”
“Of course,” she said, giving me a side glance. “But it’s been awhile.”
“Define awhile.”
“Years.”
“Why? Your dad is the coach,” I said, a little tense. Maybe I was feeling angry because I didn’t have my dad and she did. “I bet you could go to every game forever.”
“I could,” she said, her teeth grazing her very full bottom lip. “But I don’t.”
“Why?”
Erikson passed to Helsing, the puck went back to Erikson, and then he took a shot and—missed. Cal was right there, looking furious, and anger coursed through me. We had a lot of shots on the goal without making a single one. We had more possession without a lead.
I leaned forward onto my knees and mumbled to myself, “They need to get rid of Cal.”
“Thebestplayer on the team?” Naomi said, her voice going all high. “Aren’t there like articles all around about his greatness?”
“Probably. I don’t pay attention to shit like that. It’s poison and just gets in your head. You should focus on yourself, your team, and the game.” My knee bounced at Cal’s pouting.
