Philistines. The lot of them.
“Yeah, thanks,” Fox said, grinning. “Hazel said you didn’t mean to hurt our feelings. We appreciate that.”
“We’ll forgive you,” Dax said, “if we get an Xbox. Seriously, we’re not kids. What was your sister thinking putting a Wii in here for us, Clark?”
The door behind Gareth opened, and Leon Alvarez stepped in. “Cool, a Wii!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “Is it new? Anyone up for Mario Tennis?”
Fox and Dax chuckled softly, but Blake Ford didn’t react. He hadn’t even raised his head during the conversation.
While three of the Hawks’ star players argued like grown men about whether mini-golf, bowling, or tennis was the morechallenging Wii game, he just sank further into his chair and exploded candy.
Gareth sighed. The last time he’d felt this uncomfortable was watching Penny slaughter a rooster on stage. But he hoped this wouldn’t end quite as bloodily.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, sitting opposite Ford.
The goalie glanced up abruptly — and almost dropped his phone when he recognized Gareth. He straightened in his chair. “Hi,” he replied nervously, as if he expected the management could only be sitting here to tell him he’d been traded to deep Canada, which Gareth had considered for a while.
But no. Give him a chance, proceed with compassion and sensitivity…
“What the hell is wrong with you, Ford? We drafted you last year because you were as promising as Moreau was at your age. These days, you’re playing like a drunken hawk with clipped wings and poor eyesight.”
Ford slumped back down in his chair again. “Yeah. Possibly. But…I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t know if you have enough time to get better. If you play poorly in the scrimmage game on Saturday, you’re out,” he stated bluntly. He saw no point in softening the blow. Hazel might have approached the subject more gently, but Hazel was Hazel, and Gareth was too impatient.
Ford’s ears were down around his shoulders. “Yeah, I figured that. The coach isn’t happy.”
“No,” Gareth confirmed, exhaling deeply and leaning forward. “And what about you? Are you happy here? Or do you want to transfer?”
“No.” Blake shook his head vehemently. “I like Los Angeles! I like the team. I want to stay.”
“So why the hell aren’t you doing something about it?”
“I’m just…a little off track right now, okay?”
“Because your girlfriend dumped you,” Gareth concluded.
Ford blushed. “Possibly.”
“Is that the only reason you are playing so badly? Because you’re heartbroken?”
Pink turned to burgundy. “Possibly.”
“Do you think you’ll play better once you get over it?”
“Possibly.”
Gareth raised his eyebrows.
“Definitely!” Ford corrected himself hastily.
“And when will that be?”
“Um…”
“Yeah, see, that’s not good enough for me,” Gareth said sharply. “Ford, I don’t have anything against you. I was one of the people who pushed for you to join us back then. Don’t let some woman ruin that opportunity.”
“She wasn’t simply some woman,” Ford snapped, before opening his mouth in shock when he remembered who was sitting in front of him. “Um…sorry, boss.”
