Chapter 5
deviated septum
Elias
Idrive past Simon Day, West Pine's best player, and slap the puck into the top shelf. Coach Ramirez blows his whistle, waving me over.
Good. I'm fucking tired.
I've been practicing every night for hours, running through drills alone when the ice is empty. It's just about the only thing I've been able to do to keep my mind off Saige.
But I did it for her, too. Because if Saige sees that I'm playing hockey again, maybe she'll believe that I'm not the person I was when we met. I got better.
Maybe I'll believe it, too.
That's why just two days after the attack, I started talking to the coaches. The assistant coach had me in to evaluate me twice last week before bringing me in today to scrimmage with the team and meet the head coach.
I wanted her to come with me. I wanted her to watch me try out and see the look on her face, but of course, she wouldn't even let me tell her about it.
I hate to admit it, but playing with Simon fucking humbled me a bit; I expected to skate fucking circles around him. And I think I did, but I'm fucking winded. I don't think I could have kept it up much longer.
I guess I'm not quite where I was—not yet, anyway. Maybe I need to start running with Nolan.
I remove my helmet and try to make it look like I'm not gasping for fucking air before leaving the ice.
"Well, you looked good out there," Coach Ramirez says. "I talked to your old coach. He had nothing but positive things to say about you. Hard worker; cocky, but still a team player, a difference-maker. He said you were supposed to go to the University of Maine last year."
"Yes, sir," I tell him.
"That's a great program. So, what are you doing here? Why are you at West Pine?"
"I got into some trouble," I tell him. "I'm sure you heard about the accident…no one else got hurt, but…I fucked up. I lost a parent to suicide, and I wasn't ready to heal. I didn't want to get better, but I'm ready now."
"And you want to be a Wolverine?"
"Yes, sir."
"This isn't Maine. Hell, it's not even Trinity. Our team doesn't garner national attention."
"I know that; I just love playing hockey. And this is where I want to be. This is where my life is." This is where Saige is. "This is where my family is."
"You'll sit through the new year," Coach tells me.
"These guys have worked really hard. You need to prove yourself—prove you're ready to be a member of this team—at every practice.
Make an effort to get to know the other guys and adapt to their game, not the other way around.
I don't have any space on my team for another entitled white guy with an ego problem.
The league has enough of those. Prove you aren't that.
Be there early, or don't bother showing up. Keep your grades up."
"I can do all of that."
"West Pine Batman, huh?" Sighing, he looks over his shoulder at the assistant coach and then shrugs.
"Fine. Follow Coach Wells back to the office.
He'll get you the schedule and everything.
After that, I'd like you to meet with our PT, too—I think she's still around; I'll send her a text.
I know you say it's fine, but I'd like you to have that shoulder checked out. "
"Thank you for the opportunity," I tell him.
"Don't fuck me over, kid."
"I won't."
"And don't fucking drink and drive, idiot."
"I don't."
I follow Coach Wells back to his office, and spend another hour going over the schedule, expectations for the team and their code of conduct, and then meet with the PT. By the time I finally leave, it's well past dark.
When I walk through the door, I find Dax on the couch, watching hockey with a beer in his hand. "Hey," I say. "Where's Nolan?"
"Where do you think?" he sneers.
"Did you tell him what you did to her today? I'm sure he's not going to fucking like it."
"Nah, figured I'd let her go cry about it."
I don't like fighting with him—I really don't. We're both too mean and far too volatile. There's just no way it can end well for either of us, no matter who wins. And Dax is my best friend. There must be a part of him that feels the same way, or he would have thrown me out of the house by now.
But I can't just stand around and let him do shit like that to Saige.
"You need to cut it the fuck out. You really could have hurt her. That's got to be it now; it has to be over. You need to leave her alone."
He throws his head back and laughs, and then stands, gesturing demonstrably. "Give me a fucking break, Elias. You sound like a fucking clown right now! No one has ever hurt Saige more than you, and you're going to lecture me on how to treat her?!"
"I don't want to fight with you, bro. I don't fucking get it; why don't you just let her go?"
"I can't!" he screams. "Don't you think I want to? I fucking can't! And you know what makes it worse? You're supposed to be my best friend, and you did this to me. Why the fuck did you do this to me?! My fucking heart is broken!"
"I…" I pause before telling him I didn't do it, taking in the erratic state of my best friend.
He's foaming at the goddamn mouth. He doesn't even look like himself; he's hollow compared to the person I know.
I told myself this was for the best and that eventually, Dax would be happier for it—he was going out again, having fun, and getting all that attention he loves so much.
I even thought he'd eventually thank me for waking his ass up.
I think I'm going to be waiting a while for that thank you.
"What!? Tell me! Speak the fuck up; I can't fucking hear you!"
"I…didn't know. I'm sorry. I didn't know.
I didn't know you were in love with her.
I didn't think you cared about her. I just thought…
she was like all the others, and you were in my way and wasting our time.
In my defense, you didn't really tell me.
It wasn't obvious. I don't think it was obvious to her, either.
" I stop, shrugging. "I don't know what else to say other than I'm fucking sorry. "
Dax stares at me, his brows pinched, before finally speaking.
"Well, fuck." He drops his beer on the hardwood, its contents spilling onto the floor while he stumbles back to the couch, lowering his head into his hands. "I didn't expect you to fucking apologize."
I sit at the opposite end of the couch. "Yeah. Me, either."
"Where have you been all day? I've been waiting for this fight for hours."
"Hockey."
He looks up at me, narrowing his eyes. "With whom?"
"Not Saige. I tried out for the team."
Dax scoffs. "What team?"
"West Pine. They have space on their roster, and I've been emailing with the coaches since just after Halloween."
"I thought they were losers, and you'd never want your name associated with their program."
I shrug. "Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I just want to play again…for fun. Maybe it'll make me a better coach."
"You did it to impress Saige."
"Yeah…a little bit."
"Did it work?"
"She wouldn't even let me tell her I was trying out."
"Good."
"Look, I don't want to fight with you anymore. We're like family. But I can't let you do shit like what you did today. I need you to stop."
Dax doesn't answer; he just sits there, staring straight ahead at the television. His phone buzzes against the table for about the twentieth time since we sat down, and he reaches for it, turning it off.
"Go fuck yourselves," he mutters.
"Not feeling the party scene tonight, eh?"
Still nothing.
"Did you hear me? Where's your head at?"
"I want to punch something. I'd like it to be you, but you had to go and fucking say sorry like a bitch, and I'm pretty sure you'd knock my drunk ass out."
I chuckle. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"Fuck, man. Don't do it again." He sighs before adding, "And I can't leave Saige alone. I wish I could. Surely, you, of all people, can understand that."
Yeah, I do. But I don't want to tell him that. I still want to believe that my obsession with Saige is different. We're supposed to be together like this.
"You want to go fuck with someone who deserves it?" I ask instead.
Dax raises an eyebrow. "Maybe. Like who?"
"Miles showed up in class today. Apparently, he's assisting Whitman again, since he forgot last year. That's what we were talking about in the hall."
"What do you think?"
"I think he's lying. And I know where he lives. I fucked his fiancé in his apartment."
"Let me get my coat."
"Drink some water or eat some carbs while you're at it," I say as he walks away. "Soak some of that shit up. You smell like a fucking distillery."
Dax scoffs. "Whatever."
I turn into the parking lot at Miles's apartment and then pull into a space near the front entrance, leaving the engine running. It's quiet, aside from the steady rain against the windshield and the periodic squeak of the wipers. Dax and I haven't spoken since he got in the car.
"You parked right under a streetlight," Dax says. "Won't he recognize your car?"
"It's intentional. He will if he's lying."
"What's the plan?"
"His car is here. I doubt he walked to campus in the rain today, so he's probably home. You'll follow a resident inside, then open the door for me, and we'll pay him a visit. He came to our house uninvited, trashed our shit. It's only fair."
"I'm following the resident inside, huh?"
"Well, I can't do it. I'm West Pine Batman now; I can't be inconspicuous."
"Whatever." Dax scoffs as his phone buzzes against the dashboard. "What the fuck? Hello?"
He pauses, and then I hear him rattle off his date of birth and social insurance number.
"What kind of unusual activity?" he asks. "What charges? Where?"
Oh…it must be Saige. I bite back a smirk.
"I'm sorry—how much?" Dax groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, no, it's not stolen…No, I don't want you to contact the police—just freeze the card. Can you just freeze the fucking card!?"