Chapter 33
33
Jack
A week later, I was adjusting my tie in front of my mirror for the alumni dinner and thinking about Aviva in that dark red dress. About the taste of her pussy that morning, and almost every morning after. Things were…different between us. I’d called her my girlfriend because I’d meant it, although “girlfriend” was too tame a word for how I felt. But although things had stabilized between us, I wasn’t sure if she’d be with me if she didn’t have to be. We were still on shaky ground, and I couldn’t help but feel like something bad was coming for us.
I jerked on the tie. It was too tight.
She was going to meet Coach tonight, face to face. And I, Jack Feldman, confident about everything, wasn’t sure how that would go.
“Jack,” Isaac called from outside my room. “We’ve gotta leave.”
Time to face the fucking music.
Aviva was waiting outside her building when we arrived. The gate was broken. I hated that she didn’t live somewhere safe. I’d need to have someone fix the gate, add extra locks to her door. Or take Marcus up on his offer to buy me a condo and move her in with me. That was an appealing idea. Absolutely insane, but appealing nonetheless.
I put the car in park and got out of the car, going around and opening the passenger door for her. Judah, Levi, and Isaac were crammed in the backseat.
“Feldman, you’re cunt-whipped,” Judah quipped, but I ignored him.
Aviva watched me with wary eyes, worn gray peacoat wrapped around her, as she walked past me and I helped her into the SUV.
She needed a new coat. New York winters were cold. What if she didn’t have something thicker? I was going to buy her a new coat tomorrow. No, ten new coats. She’d never ever feel a slight chill again if I?—
“You didn’t have to get the door,” she said.
I shrugged, a little embarrassed at where my thoughts had gone. “I wanted to.”
I wanted to do a lot of things, but those things required being alone. Worry filled me—everything felt like it was going to go wrong. Maybe I could skip the dinner, maybe we could stay home, maybe?—
Except I was giving the opening speech before introducing Coach. I wasn’t a weasel, and I wouldn’t be unreliable. It would be fine. In fact, Aviva would see for herself how trustworthy Coach was, and drop this nonsense mission to get her brother justice he didn’t actually need.
Reassured, I closed the door behind her, went back around the car, and got in, cranking up the heat on a chilly late October night and pulling out of the spot. Impulse overtook me, and as I steered one handed, I took Aviva’s hand with the other, gripping it tight, so she couldn’t let go.
If I got my way, she’d never let go.
The beginning of the dinner passed by in a blur. Alumni approached me, wanting to shake my hand and take pictures with me. I gave them my best Jack Hat Trick Feldman, charming and funny and a little cocky, a little bashful. They ate it up. The whole time, Aviva stood beside me, her eyes on me, barely speaking. She was uncomfortable, maybe even angry, and I wanted to reassure her, but I didn’t have time.
Finally, we were sitting at our table, being served dinner. I placed one hand on her thigh, forking dry chicken into my mouth with the other as I laughed with my friends.
“Have you even practiced your speech?” Levi asked.
Judah shook his head, spearing an asparagus. “Jack never needs to. He feels it here,” he mocked, thumping his chest.
And then my name was being spoken up on the dais, and I was releasing Aviva’s thigh, standing, straightening out my tie and approaching the stage. Coach sat at a table to the right of the stage, and winked at me before mouthing proud of you.
I got up on the dais and stared out at the tables of wealthy alumni and important faculty and staff, noting that Aviva sat on one side of the room, Coach on the other. I felt divided between them, but I dismissed the feeling; I had a speech to give.
I cleared my throat.
“Not many of you know this, but Joshua Jensen saved—and changed—my life. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him. He spotted me as a young teenager, saw my talent, and patiently and painstakingly helped me hone it. But he’s been more than a trainer and a coach, he’s been a true friend, brother, even father figure to me—and to all of us on the team.”
Looking down, I saw Coach smiling, and around the ballroom, my teammates nodding. But Aviva was playing with her salad and not even looking at me.
A frog stuck in my throat, so I cleared it again and went on. “He’s always been there for us. Talking to us about private things you wouldn’t think your coach would even care about?—”
I paused, my eyes still on Aviva, stymied by my own words. Should a hockey coach be so involved in his players’ private lives?
“—always available over text, day or night?—”
Had that ever turned into something it shouldn’t have? Why was he so available to us?
“And ready with advice or praise. His office door is always open, no matter what.” I laughed, even though I didn’t find it funny. “I can’t tell you the number of us who’ve spent time in his office with the door locked, only to come back out reinvigorated to play…”
Had Asher been in there with the door locked?
What the actual fuck?
Sweat gathered on my neck, beneath my pits, on my back. For a moment, it became hard to breathe, the room swimming in front of me so all I could see was Coach’s concerned face, and Aviva’s rapt one.
I wasn’t going to lose it, here on stage, in front of all these people.
I shut my eyes for a second. People in the crowd began to murmur.
I spoke louder, stronger. “A team is only as strong as its weakest player, and Coach has always, always made sure that each and every one of us is strong. I’ve had the honor of leading our team for the past two seasons as its captain, and I can tell you all how strong and brave and committed each of my teammates is. The game means everything to us, but we mean more to each other. Commitment, determination, trust, loyalty—those are the things that make a good hockey team, and—” I looked at Aviva, “—a successful relationship of any kind. I’m proud to be captain of this commited, determined, trustworthy, loyal team—something I’d never have if it weren’t for Coach Joshua Jensen. Thank you.”
People stood, clapping. Including Aviva, who had tears in her eyes as she stared at me. It didn’t feel like condemnation from her, it felt like pride and approval.
And then Coach was next to me, giving me a hug, slapping my back, and saying, “Thank you, son.”
I went back to my seat and sat back down next to Aviva.
“You were great,” she murmured, but she wouldn’t let me hold her hand.
I tried to not let it bother me as Coach spoke. Most of his words were a blur, although he emphasized more than once how I was “like a son to him,” that our team was “like family,” and family always supports and encourages each other, that there’s an unconditional love there, despite what may happen. That “like Jack said,” loyalty was the most important part of a team.
“These men, these strong, talented men, they know loyalty. And I am proud to be their coach, their guide, their father figure even—except for when they get up to no good,” he said, and the room was filled with laughter. “Our future here at Reina University is bright. It’s setting up Jack for a great career in the NHL, so he can accomplish every single thing he’s dreamed of since he was that scrawny teenager on the ice. And I know, with Jack at the helm, we’ll go to the Frozen Four and the championship. Bright things lay ahead!”
People rose, cheered raucously. I clapped, too, but all I could do was look at Aviva’s clenched fists on the table, and the way she avoided my gaze.
I grabbed her wrist, forcing her hand open.
“Jack, what are you doing?” she whispered.
“You hold my hand,” I ordered, also whispering.
She glared at me, but opened her hand, palm up. I took hers, and felt immediately better—and worse, because I could feel her mentally and emotionally pulling away.