Chapter 2
sam
The arena was loud as our fans jumped up and down. I was standing even if my knee was killing me. I should have been sitting, but these last minutes of the game I couldn’t because all of our hard work, my injury, and a last minute line change had brought us here to the semifinals.
My teammates, Gomez, Riggs and Bennet were racing down the ice chasing the puck.
They had one chance to tie the game and change everything in overtime.
The rush overwhelmed me as I watched the puck pass between Gomez and Bennet.
The other team’s defense was closing in; they had seconds before what they were doing was going to be a lost cause.
My wrist flicked, taking the shot at the time Bennet should have.
He took too long and when he finally took his shot, the defensive man was there for the save.
I saw it before the crowd did. They were excited for the possibility, they screamed as the anticipation was in the air and then the collective groan echoed when we didn’t get the goal.
The other team shot the puck to the other side and there was no time left.
The buzzer rang and the other team’s fans cheered.
So fucking close.
I sat down, watching my teammates slowly skate to each other to comfort one another.
Jealously hit me square in the chest as I saw them hug each other.
I saw Gomez and Riggs have their moment, the teammates who used to hate each other, but now had a relationship with our social media manager.
Their helmets were pressed together before Riggs kissed Gomez’s helmet quickly. A different kind of jealousy hit me.
My head hurt from experiencing too many emotions in a short amount of time.
Lately, it seemed my emotions were all over the place since I had injured my knee.
Life had been throwing obstacles at me over and over again.
I was exhausted and it didn’t help that I wasn’t talking to my best friend, someone I used to talk to every day.
My chest ached and I wished I could figure out what I could do to get him to talk to me again.
I missed Jude with every fiber of my being. It was like I was missing a piece of me.
I was missing a piece of me.
“Hey, you want to come down and see the team?” one of the trainers asked, hitting the glass.
“Yeah,” I said, as I pointed up.
I could have watched the game from the press box, but I chose to watch it from the stands.
This was an important game. I needed to be down here watching, but it made no difference.
The walk up was brutal. It took me a long time, having to take a break twice, because my knee was still giving me issues.
The walk down to the lockers was enough to wipe me out, but I kept going.
The locker room was quiet as I entered, it was always gut-wrenching, when you were so close, but couldn’t make it to the finals. I hated the feeling, and this was the first time I was on a team that had gotten so close.
A few teammates said hello and the longer I was here, the more I just wanted to leave. I hated that I hadn’t gotten to play with them, that I didn’t get to share in this loss with them or that maybe I could have helped them win if I wasn’t injured.
“Webber.” Ravino, our team captain, walked up to me.
I clenched my jaw from the rising emotion I felt. His face said it all, like he knew what I was going through and I hated the sympathy on his face. All my close friends on the team looked at me like that, it always killed me.
“I’m sorry, Cap,” I said, giving him a hug.
I felt someone hug me from the sides and I knew it was Riggs and Gomez.
“I’m sorry, guys,” I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. “They were a tough team.”
“Next year, we will be unstoppable,” Gomez said confidently.
I sighed. “Yeah, we got this next year.”
We stepped back from each other, each of us had a somber look and I hated it, but I hated their looks of pity more. “You guys did great, but I’m pretty tired, so I’m gonna stop by the coach’s office and then head out.”
“Yeah, you need to get off your feet,” Riggs said.
“Maybe we can get a beer soon,” Gomez said.
“Or maybe a cook-out before you leave,” Cap said.
“You’re leaving?” Gomez asked, shocked.
“Just heading home for a bit, I miss it,” I said, even though I didn’t want to say it. I was only signed on for a year, like most of these guys, except people like Riggs and Cap, who were more experienced.
I didn’t know if we had a future here. I hoped most of us got signed again.
“Well, we definitely need to get together. If not, maybe we can go visit you, get out of the city a bit,” Riggs said, clapping my shoulder.
“Yeah, that would be great,” I said. “Well, you guys played awesome and I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Webber,” they said as I walked away to go look for Coach who wanted to see me before I left today.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t have a choice. The hallway to Coach’s office was full of people, making me more nervous the closer I got to it. I knocked on his door and saw the defensive coach and a trainer in there with him.
“Hey, Coach,” I said.
“Hey, Webber, how’s it going?” he asked, motioning me to sit down.
“It’s going ok, bummed I wasn’t out there.” I sat down feeling nervous.
“I heard you have an appointment with the surgeon next week,” he said, glancing at the trainer.
“Yeah, my PT said I need an MRI,” I said, glancing at the trainer too. “I just got that done yesterday.”
“How’s PT going?” The trainer asked.
My stomach dropped. I knew where this was going and I thought I had time before this got back to my coach along with everyone else.
“Ok, I still don’t have good mobility,” I said.
My mobility was shit. I was nowhere near where I needed to be.
I had been saying that for weeks, but everyone said all I needed was PT and I would be good.
No one listened to me, I didn’t push, wanting to believe what they said and here I was, needing to see the surgeon again because something was wrong.
“I’m going to be straight with you, Webber,” the trainer said. “Your MRI doesn’t look good. I was hoping for better progress, and this was not it.”
“I know. I was hoping for better too,” I said. “I had concerns the second week and everyone dismissed me, saying I needed to let PT do the work, but something never felt right.”
“Things don’t look good, son,” Coach said.
“I am prepared to do whatever I need to do,” I said, ready to beg if I had to.
“Well, we will need to let the higher ups know once we talk to the doctor,” Coach said. “As you know, trades and re-signs will be coming in—”
The next ten minutes were a bit of a blur as they explained some things and I just nodded.
My chances of getting re-signed were slowly slipping away.
By the time I was walking out the hallway to leave, I felt worn out and in a bit of a daze, until I almost ran into our social media manager, Valencia.
“Hey,” she said, giving me a hug that I desperately needed. “How are things going?”
“Ok,” I said, hugging her tightly.
“That doesn’t sound ok,” she said, pulling away to see me better.
I hated that I was getting emotional, but it felt like I was holding too many things on my shoulders.
“Healing is not going well and I miss… I just miss hockey,” I said, letting it all out, but kept seeing the doctor to myself. “I’m moving back home to rest and see a good physical therapist in the area.”
“If you need anything, let us know, maybe we can visit,” she said, giving me a look of pity. “Doesn’t Jude live there too? I think it—”
“He and I aren’t speaking right now,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she said, pulling me in for another hug that I leaned into, desperately needing.
“It’s fine, I’m hoping being home makes us work our shit out.” I shrugged, trying not to lose my cool. “But I’d still like for you guys to visit.”
“Of course.” She pulled away with a smile.
Valencia was gorgeous and I could see her appeal. I was happy that Riggs, Gomez and she had gotten together. They deserved happiness with each other.
“Have fun with them and don’t let them boss you around too much.” I kissed her cheek.
“Bye, call us if you need anything,” she said, waving as I left.
Riggs and Gomez would be out soon, and I didn’t need to stick around.
I needed to go home to my empty apartment, have a drink and go to sleep before I called my best friend for the hundredth time or worse just drive in my car to go see him.
Having to stay in Denver had been the worst. When we fought, all it took was for me to see him and make him talk because all Jude did was bottle everything up.
Jude is the most selfless person I know and all he does is take care of everyone else. He forgets about himself until he explodes, and right now, I feel like he’s having a hard time, but I can’t go to him and it's killing me. I don’t know how to help him from here.
I walked into my quiet apartment, setting my keys on the entryway table.
My apartment was in a high-rise downtown, so I had a great view.
The windows let in enough light that I made my way to my room easily enough.
I used the restroom, got ready for bed and sat on my bed, setting my phone on the nightstand.
My knee was throbbing as I took off my brace.
I should have elevated and iced it, but I just wanted to sleep, so I didn’t have to think anymore.
Taking off my pants was a little bit of a struggle, but I managed without falling on my ass.
I slid under the covers in just my boxer briefs, adjusting pillows under my knee to at least elevate it.
I leaned back, ignoring my phone and this need I had to call Jude, just to hear his voice even if it was just his voicemail.
This man has reduced me to listening to his voicemail, just to hear his voice.
What the hell was happening to me? I decided to text him instead.
It took me four tries before I decided to hit send.
Me: Just tell me you’re ok. Please, tell me you’re ok.
I stared at my phone, hoping for a text.
We usually responded right away, but as the minutes went by, I knew I was not going to get a response.
It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but my chest ached, missing him.
I had plans to stay in Sterling Ridge until hockey started back up, but maybe that was a bad idea or maybe I just needed to go and make him listen to me.
Jude could be a brat sometimes and I had no problem taming a brat.