Professional. Prepared. Annoying.
"Morning, Hayes," I call out, skating over to the boards. "Glad you could make it."
"Morning, Lynch. Thanks for the incredibly convenient scheduling."
"I told you I wasn't going to make this easy." I give her a wink, just to annoy her.
"And I told you I don't want easy."
She meets my eyes, and there's something there, defiance, determination, maybe a hint of the same anger I'm feeling.
Good. Angry I can work with.
The rest of the team filters in. I can see them noticing her, exchanging looks. Some hostile, some curious.
"Alright, listen up," I call out once everyone's on the ice. "We have an observer today. Lennox Hayes from the Tribune. She's doing a series on the team. Everyone be professional, focus on the drills, and remember, we're here to play hockey, not to put on a show."
A few guys snicker. Tyler deliberately skates close to the boards where she's sitting, making her flinch back.
"Morrison," I snap. "Knock it off."
He holds up his hands in mock innocence and skates away.
Practice is intense. I run everyone through conditioning drills that leave us all gasping. Power skating, suicide sprints, one-on-one battles for the puck.
I can feel Lennox watching. Taking notes. Probably finding more ammunition for her next article.
Halfway through, I skate over to the boards.
"Getting everything you need?"
"Plenty." She doesn't look up from her notebook. "This is very enlightening."
"Yeah? What's enlightening about conditioning drills?" I ask, looking at the team.
"The way you push them. The language you use. The power dynamics." Now she looks up. "It's all very... aggressive."
"It's hockey. We're not playing checkers."
"No, you're playing a sport that often uses violence as strategy and aggression as virtue. I'm just observing how that manifests in practice."
"You're looking for problems where there aren't any." I try to keep my voice calm, but it’s getting hard to do.
"Or I'm seeing problems you've normalized." We stare at each other, and the tension is thick enough to cut.
"Interview tonight," I say finally. "Six PM. Don't be late."
"Wouldn't dream of it." The smile on her face makes me angry.
I skate away before I say something I'll regret.
The rest of practice passes without incident. By the time we're done, it's almost eight and I'm exhausted.
Lennox is still in the bleachers, still taking notes, not saying anything to her. I go to the locker room, and straight into the shower.
Once showered and dressed I come back out, she's gone. Good. I don't have the energy for another confrontation.
My phone buzzes. Maya.
