I watch her walk to the building, her hips swaying and her ass looking just as fine as it did this morning in those tight yoga pants. Part of me hates that she wears those in public so other men can ogle at her, but then I remember I can’t tell her what to wear, especially because she’s not mine.
When the guys are suited up, they join me on the ice. I’ve been going back and forth with myself on if I should mention the fundraiser before or after practice. I choose before. That way, they can work off some of that aggression and annoyance. They’re going to be pissed, I already know they will be. I don’t care. I promised Ellie we’d do this, so we’re doing this.
The guys gather in a clump in front of me. They’re smiling and laughing with each other, and I know that’s all about to come to end. I should feel some sort of guilt for that, right?
“Alright, listen up!” I blow my whistle and the rink goes silent. Everyone’s eyes are on me. Here goes nothing.
“We’ve got a fundraising event coming up in a few weeks. It’s to bring in donations, and to raise money for a new hockey arena on campus. It will no longer be shared with the other facilities. We’ll have our own space to play.”
The guys nod, some even smile.
“Now, this event is mandatory. That means, unless you’re on your fucking deathbed, you better be here.”
Groans hit immediately.
“Well, what do we have to do? Play a game?” Logan asks. I nod.
“Yep. But that’s not all.”
Their curious looks watch and wait for me to continue.
“This fundraiser is for athleticsandthe arts. Meaning, we'll be working alongside Professor Monroe’s theatre class. They will be choreographing a dance for us to perform during the first period of the game. Everyone will participate. If you do not show up, you’re off the team.
“You’re joking, right?” Jacob asks.
“There’s no way I’m getting up in front of the whole school and dancing like a circus monkey. Hell no,” Issacc Anders states, his expression one of disgust and anger.
“You will if you want to be part of this team. This program exists because of donors and sponsors. We need to do this.”
“Coach, come on,” Levi groans.
“Show up,” I spit. “Or you explain to Dean Ashby why you didn’t.”
Their jaws drop, but no one dares to say another word.
“Our rehearsals start tomorrow at six p.m. sharp. Do not be late. Now, warmups. Go!” Blowing my whistle, the team scatters across the ice. I take a deep breath, glad that’s over with. I knew there would be pushback, I just hope I still have a team after tomorrow.
For the rest of practice, the guys play angry. Their passes are sloppy, their stickhandling sucks ass, and their teamwork is pathetic. I thought breaking the news to them would help, but it seems like it only made it worse.
Finally, I decide I’ve had enough of this for one day. I’ve put them through the ringer, and it’s not just because they were playing like shit. It’s because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Ellie and who Freddie is. She would have told me if she was seeing someone, wouldn’t she?
I head to my office and shut the door. Attempting to push the Ellie thing out of my mind, I focus on my players and what I can do to really shape them up before Friday’s game against Atlantic Academy. We have to win this one. Ashby won’t keep me around if we keep losing, and this is all I have right now.
My phone lights up with a text from the group chat.
Rhode Island Stormies
Theo Cramer:This team isn’t the same without you, Patty.
Billy Callahan:Yeah, it’s better.
Billy Callahan:Jkjkjkjkjk. Love you.
Connor Grieves:We need you back, brother.
It’s then that I get a really great idea. It’s a little crazy, a little unconventional, but it might help.
Me:How would you guys feel about going back to college?
