Coach doesn’t let the moment breathe. “You can thank her.”
His thumb jerks toward Sam, but she doesn’t move or speak. She just takes it as they all start at once, spewing spiteful words and toxic energy in her direction.
“Hope you’re proud of yourself!”
“You killed the fucking season!”
“Just a puck bunny doing anything to catch a mark!”
“Fucking bitch!”
Through it all, she’s mute and stone-still. If anything, she shrinks back further, like she’d crawl inside her own skin if shecould. Her head is down, a single curl falling from her messy bun. Their words sting, I know they do, if the subtle flinch after each accusation is any indication. She doesn’t defend herself. Doesn’t even try. It’s nauseating, and I can’t watch it anymore.
“Enough,” I yell, daring anyone to challenge me. The ruckus dies down, shouts trailing off into grumbles and dirty looks.
Coach releases an exasperated breath before turning the full force of his disappointment back to us.
“You’re not off the hook,” he snarls, glaring at me as he does. “You knew what was at stake and still went against everything I told you.”
“It’s not—” Luka starts, but Coach cuts him off.
“Save it.” He shakes his head in disgust. “The only acceptable response right now is ‘yes, sir.’”
“Yes, sir,” we all mutter in a reluctant echo.
“You boys think you’re untouchable? You’re not. You’re sloppy. You’re arrogant and apparently stupid. You’re on the cusp of the best season of your lives, and you risk losing everything we’ve worked for.”
He continues pacing, staring at each of us like he’s debating who to bench next.
“You let your egos cost us Jackson. Possibly even cost us our shot. If you can’t show restraint, how am I supposed to trust you’ll have the discipline to bring it home?”
Another rhetorical.
“Bag skate until you puke.”
Groans rippled from the group as they resentfully file out. Kane grinds his stick into the ice, his jaw ticking. Mountain lets out a slow exhale, already shifting into gear. I’m just about to fall in line, but Coach stops me in my tracks.
“Williamsburg. Stay.”
I freeze, my heart sinking as the rest of the team peels off toward the center of the ice. I move toward the edge, my skates crunching over frozen ground. Now that there aren’t as many eyes on her, Sam looks up, her broken eyes meeting mine.
“She’s now your problem.”
I frown. “What?”
“You heard me. She should be expelled, but the chancellor obviously has different plans. You’re the captain, this happened at your party, so she’s all yours.”
Fucking thanks, Dad.
Once again, his decision affecting my life. There’s been a long-standing beef between Coach and my father. They fake pleasantries in public for the sake of appearances, but beneath the veil, they hate each other. Coach can’t tell my dad where to shove it, so he takes special care in taking out his disdain on me.
“She’s the new equipment manager. Make sure she knows her way around so she doesn’t ruin something else. If she fucks up, you’re benched.” He peers down at her. “You’re on thin ice, so do what he says, take care of the team, and stay out of the way.”
With that, Coach walks off and the rest of the team skid around us, some shooting venomous glares or snide remarks as they do.
“This is her fault,” a player spits as he passes me.
Then it’s just the two of us, alone for a second amid the chaos. She stares at me, bracing herself as if she expects me to deliver another blow.
