“Hey Mads. Can I just say one last thing?” I try not to snap because I’m turning over a new leaf here.
“Sure, Walks. Go for it.”
“I know you don’t want to talk about Liam, and I don’t want you to be pissed at me again. But I think you guys need to talk to each other ’cause you were pretty rough on him the other night and I think you really hurt him”
“I know. I’ll handle it, I promise.”
“Okay. Night, sis.” The door closes softly, and the last thing I hear is the locks clicking into place before I’m pulled down into sleep.
Liam
It’s been two days since that disastrous night and I still haven’t texted or called Maddie. Coward that I am, I asked Walker to take Ace for his run this morning. I just couldn’t seem to make myself do it. It’s not that I don’t want to. I do, but I’m not ready. It feels like too much right now, while I’m so raw and exposed. As if another critique of my skills as a man would send me right over the edge. A few days from now? Maybe. I need some time to heal a little. Get my emotional armor back in place.
I try to muster up my usual enthusiasm as I make my way into practice, but I’m getting nowhere. Everything feels wrong with us being at odds. I miss her; I miss her sharing her bed and fighting Ace for the covers. I miss the way she smells and how she feels against me when she falls asleep on my chest. I miss the way we make breakfast together and watching her take that first sip of coffee in the morning.
Last night I tossed and turned as though my body was reaching for her, even during sleep. Weirdly, I’m also missing Ace’s solid weight at my back, although not his morning breath. That I can live without.
Even playing Call of Duty or NHL Center Ice isn’t as enjoyable as it used to be. I didn’t last more than an hour playing with Walker the other day before I had to quit. Eventually, I end up heading out for a long run. It doesn’t help. Without Ace, running isn’t the same, and it sucks. Mads and I need to talk, but despite knowing that, I can’t bring myself to call her. I’ve picked up my phone a dozen times, but I don’t press the button. Something always holds me back.
I need to shake all this off because I’m about to head into the locker room. This is our first practice since the party, and I don’t know what to expect. Dealing with Bells today would be the icing on the shit cake that is my life, but it’s a possibility however small. Walking in, I immediately narrow my gaze on his locker stall. I’d rather see what I’m dealing with right away, but all I see is that his name is gone, and his stall is empty. Thank fucking God! I let out the breath I’d been holding since I entered and close my eyes in sweet relief.
The steady beat of clapping hands pulls me from my reverie. Everyone is on their feet and looking at me. Holy shit. The applause is for me. I’m probably fifty shades of red right now. The best part by far is the kid standing at the stall next to mine. Camps is giving me the biggest, brightest grin, rolling his fist while making a whoop-whoop sound.
“Way to go, Cap!” someone shouts. Then it’s a cacophony of cheers and chanting of “Cap.” It goes on for a few minutes before I come to the reluctant conclusion that I’m going to have to say something or these guys will never shut up. I hold up my hands for silence, and I’m startled by the immediate compliance. That’s new but feels pretty damn good.
“Look I suck at speeches, but thank you. Let’s face it though, Bells did this to himself. I just helped the process along.” I tell them. More cheers ensue, but I gesture for silence again. “Iwasn’t the only one either. Walker, Irish, and Reedsy helped, so let’s give them some props too.”
Walker’s preening, of course, but Irish and Reedsy both seem uncomfortable in the spotlight. I know I have to say something, but I don’t want to put Camps on the spot. I opt to keep it to hockey.
“Let me just be clear in case anyone here missed it. Quit all the bullshit hazing. It’s stupid, it’s a distraction, and it fucks with our ability to work together as a team, and I’m not fucking putting up with it again.” I glare at Shane York. He’s still here, which tells me his involvement was indirect, at least that night. He doesn’t meet my gaze, but as he turns away, I notice his neck is bright red. Good. I hope he feels bad. “Now that’s said, I just want to play hockey, not deal with a bunch of extra bullshit. So, let’s go out there and act like a team that actually wins some fucking games!”
“Fuck yeah!” yells Walker. The room explodes into cheers again, and it’s so damn loud that I’m relieved when Coach Quinn walks in and the room goes silent.
We’re all waiting for the lecture to begin, but Coach just surveys the room in silence. I can tell that everyone else is bracing for the storm, but it doesn’t come.
“I don’t want to see any bullshit at practice today. It’s time we focused on hockey. Our first game is in two days. I don’t give a rat’s ass that it’s pre-season. If you want to play on this team, you’ll be giving me your best effort every single shift. Show me you learned something from this nonsense. Show me you know how to be a team. Show me a team that gives me the effort worthy of a professional athlete.”
After that speech, it’s no surprise to see everyone dressed and on the ice with plenty of time to spare.
Instead of our usual drills, the coaches set up something new. I’m intrigued. Our last coach loved suicides. We did thatmore than anything except scrimmages. He didn’t do those fancy college drills. His words. Me, I love the opportunity to try something new, so it’s no hardship to pay close attention.
The coaches set up a drill called 10 Pass Chaos. It’s basically 6 v 3, but the six offensive players need to have ten completed passes without the defenders stealing the puck before they can even take a shot on net.
“This drill is about communication and teamwork. And we’re gonna keep doing it until you guys learn to communicate like teammates.” Coach Quinn announces, before he deliberately mixes up the lines, pairing vets with rookies.
“While you’re out there, think about what this career means to you. Because if it means that you’re committed to working hard, building a solid team, and taking your job seriously, then you’re headed in the right direction. If you think it mean disrespecting your teammates and acting like a fool, then you need to rethink your presence on my team.” I guess we didn’t escape a lecture after all. Although as lectures go, it wasn’t terrible.
It’s a tough practice, and by the end, we’re dead tired, but we’ve made progress: solid communication, rookies not afraid to step it up, and some sweet passing. The low-level dread I’ve always felt going into practice has dissipated. I may not know what the hell is going on in my personal life, but at least things with the team are looking up.
Coach Quinn impressed the hell out of me today. I was sure we had a bag skate coming our way. Coach worked us just as hard, but with drills that kept us focused on improving our skills. It was far more effective than “suicides.” It was such a different vibe from our previous seasons, and even though we all leave practice dead ass tired and sore as fuck. We also left with a sense of accomplishment that I haven’t experienced since college.
That buoyant feeling lasts until I walk into an empty apartment. That’s when I remember Walker has dinner with his agent tonight and won’t be home until much later. Wonderful. I microwave a prepared meal while I flip through the Netflix options. Settling on reruns of Parks and Rec because it always makes me laugh, even though I’ve seen it a million times. Besides, who doesn’t love Aubrey Plaza?
I need to pack for our game with the Seattle Sea Lions. We’re only out of town for a couple of days, so packing won’t take me long. I’ll do it later. I’ve got plenty of time because I’m clearly not going anywhere tonight.
***
We’re down by two at the start of the second period in our pre-season game against the Seattle Sea Lions. It’s killing me because Coach Quinn has only been playing the rookies and a couple of new guys for the entire period. Seattle’s strategy seems to be to pit their best players against all the newbies. I mean, it’s a successful strategy, so who could blame them. If Coach would only send our first line out for a couple of shifts, I’m sure we could catch up, especially if we have Orly and Irish on defense.
