Chapter 20
JAYDEN
Most of the team is buying into our new coach’s systems. It’s making a difference. We’ve actually won a couple of games. But not tonight.
Tonight was the last game of the trip and we’re flying home right after this.
I’m sitting in the dressing room taking off my equipment.
Every time we lose, the vibe in the room is dark.
I’m not sure what’s causing it. Nobody likes to lose, I get it.
I hate losing. But we have to be stronger than that.
It puts me on edge. I think it puts everyone on edge. And when I see Bish shooting Sammy hot looks, it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Bish is pissed again. Sammy’s great at opening up space and creating plays. But he struggles with carrying under pressure. Opponents can knock him off the puck too easily and beat him along the boards.
I’m starting to get the feeling that this really pisses off Bish. That’s probably why he doesn’t pass the puck to Sammy even when he’s wide open.
This is a coaching thing. I don’t even know if Duper is aware of it, though. Should I talk to him about it?
That makes my gut cramp.
The one time I tried to talk to a coach about something, it did not go well.
I rub my forehead. I really don’t want to do that again.
On the other hand, Finn is a bright light this season.
This guy, young as he is, is eager, hard-working, optimistic, and fast as hell.
He’s the only one who smiles at Bart, our equipment manager, as he thanks him for switching out his visor before the game.
He’s got a star quality and could be the future of this team.
Not if we don’t get our shit together.
I swallow a sigh as I head to the shower. Bart grabs my gear almost before I’m out of it. They work fast to get everything packed up and on the plane.
What would I say to Duper? I suds up under the hot spray. Bish is being a jerk? Sammy’s too weak at protecting the puck? Fuck. Then I’ll be labelled a “problem.”
When we’re eventually on the plane, I pull out the papers Stella gave me from my backpack. I looked at them on the way to St. Louis and thought about them a lot.
My take on all this is that I need to be better net front. And in terms of offence, I need to jump into the play more and get more shots through from the blue line.
I’m going to talk to Moisey. Moisey Tarasov is one of the assistant coaches, also new to the team. He came with Duper. He’s responsible for our defensive structure and the penalty kill unit. He’s the one who can help me with those things.
I meet with Moisey in his office two days later.
We make a little small talk. He remembers that my sister lives here and that I have a dog. Eventually, he says, “So what’s up? What did you want to talk about?”
I have Stella’s stats in my hands. “I want to play better.”
He smiles. “I love to hear that.”
I hold up the papers. “I’ve been looking at a lot of stats and analyzing my play. And… well, I know we haven’t worked together for very long but maybe you can tell me if I’m on the right track with the things I want to work on. And if I am… maybe you can help me with that.”
He leans forward, all ears. “Yeah. Sure.”
I tell him what I concluded. He motions for me to hand over the stats and peruses them with sharp eyes, nodding. “Where’d you get these?” he says. “They’re from Vantix, right?”
“That’s right.”
His gaze lingers on me, then returns to the numbers.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re on the right track. And from watching you play, I agree with getting stronger in front of the net.
Offensively… well, if you want to contribute more, we can work on that too.
You do some great things already: holding the blue line, moving the puck, shooting.
You’re patient on the blue line and good at making decisions under pressure.
You move the puck smoothly. Efficiently. ”
“Thanks.”
“You have a great slap shot.”
I nod.
He sits back in his chair. “Okay. Let me work on this a bit. I think we can work on your positioning and stick work in front of the net. Let’s start there. I’ll put together some drills we can do. And let’s talk to Dom. Improving your lower-body strength would probably help.”
Dom’s our head athletic therapist. “Okay.”
He studies me. “I’m impressed that you came to me with this.”
“I want the whole team to be better.” I grimace. “I figured I’d start with what I can control: me.”
“That takes balls,” he says. “Being willing to look at your weaknesses. Being self-aware enough. Wish more guys on the team had that attitude. But we’re working on it.”
I’m at my sister Alanna’s place. I haven’t seen the kids for a while so I invited myself over for dinner.
“If you could grow any kind of food on trees, what would it be?” I ask Hugo and Layla from the armchair where I’ve collapsed, belly full of chicken tacos.
“Pizza!” Layla says immediately.
“I don’t know.” Hugo scrunches up his face. “Oh! I know. Frogs!” He falls on the floor, giggling.
“Frogs! Do you eat frogs?” I ask.
“Noooo. Yuck. Okay, chicken nuggets!”
“What kind of sauce?”
“I like ketchup.”
“Huh. Okay.” I look at Layla. “What kind of pizza?”
“Could it have… every kind?”
“Sure. An everything pizza tree. Why not.”
“What would you want, Uncle Jay?”
“Hmmm. I think a beer tree would be good.”
“Beer!” Layla shakes her head. “That’s not a food.”
“You are correct. Okay, I’ll say… chips.”
“What kind?”
“All kinds. An everything chip tree.”
“I hear you’ve been seeing someone,” my sister says to me.
I lift my head to peer at her. “How’d you hear that?”
“I saw it on a hockey blog.”
My jaw sags. “No.” I never look at that shit. Does Stella know that? This can’t be good.
“Yes. She’s pretty.”
“Did it say who she is?”
“Yes.”
“Well, damn.” I push myself up straight.
“Is it secret?”
“Well. No. Not exactly. It’s just… new, I guess.”
“She’s pretty impressive.”
“Tell me about it.” I drop my head back. She’s amazing. I might be falling for her, even though I’m not supposed to. But I am so not worthy of her. I can’t believe she even went out with me. “I have no idea why she’s seeing me.”
“Oh come on. You’re pretty impressive, too.”
“Thanks, sis, but I am nowhere near her level.”
“What does that mean? You’re talented, successful.”
“Our team is crap.”
She and her husband Blake both wince. “Well, true. But still, you’re a pro hockey player.”
“Yeah. But it’s not just that. I feel like she’s way out of my league, but also… she has this great life with her friends and her business. She doesn’t need me. She doesn’t need anyone. Sometimes, I feel like I’m competing for her attention.”
“I’m sure she must have a lot of men interested in her.”
“I don’t think she’s seeing anyone else. I just mean I’m competing with all the other things in her life.”
“Hmmm.”
“Her condo is her private space,” I go on. “She has her dog.”
“She has a dog?”
“Yeah. A pug. Frank’s nearly identical twin.”
“We told you that, Mommy!” Layla says. “We met her at the park that day.”
“Ohhhh.” Alanna nods. “Riiiight. That was her.”
“She has a busy career, lots of friends. A whole bunch of orchids.”
Alanna blinks. “Cool.” She tips her head. “So you’re not competing with other men. You’re competing with her orchids, her dog, and her vibrator.”
I blink.
“What does that mean, Mommy?” Layla asks.
Alanna bites her lip and glances at Blake, who lifts his eyebrows.
I hold back my laughter. “It’s for massaging sore muscles,” I say. “And yeah… you’re right. It’s hard to compete with all that. Not only that…” I hesitate. I think I know what Alanna’s going to say when I tell her this. “She doesn’t want anything serious.”
Alanna’s lips jut out. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for anything, but…”
“Aaah.” She nods. “It’s her.”
I don’t say anything, just lift one shoulder.
“If she really means that, you probably shouldn’t keep seeing her.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” I mutter.
“I’m sorry. Do you think she’s playing hard to get?”
“Fu— fudge no. She doesn’t play games.” I’m certain of that. “She is hard to get.”
“Do you think she might change her mind?”
I mull that over.
“If you’re catching feelings, you’re probably only going to get hurt. But if you’re okay with keeping things casual, I guess just know how things could go.”
I nod glumly. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling for Stella. I like her a lot. A lot. But… it’s new.”
“I’m telling you, dating is hard these days,” Blake says. “It’s like an extreme sport for your self-esteem.”
“And how do you know that?” Alanna asks.
He rolls his eyes. “I hear it from single guys at work.”
Alanna frowns. “There are a lot of men out there who blame all their failures on women. They think when they get turned down, it’s a personal affront. They think they’re entitled to attention, affection and even sex from any woman they might want.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad,” I say, “but I like women.”
Alanna smiles. “I know you do.”
I love spending time with Stella. I feel like… I hope… she likes spending time with me, too.
Oh hell. It’s more than that. For me, anyway.
I am rapidly becoming crazy about her. It’s possible I am literally losing my mind—fantasizing about her when I’m alone in hotel rooms, even when I’m on the ice practicing, which is stupid.
I’m stupid for her. I want to buy her orchids and know all her favourite foods and sleep with her in my bed all night.
“She doesn’t need a man,” Alanna goes on. “But that’s good. Because if you’re in her life, you know she wants you in her life.”
Just what I said to the guys. It’s better to be wanted by a woman than needed by her. I think of what Stella’s told me about her mom. Stella’s not like that.
“If she’s that happy with her single life, she’s not going to give it up for a guy who holds the door open for her or pays for her coffee.”
“You know a lot about her.” I frown.
She laughs. “It’s not just her. It’s a lot of women these days.”
“And how do you know that?” Blake asks dryly.
She shoots him an amused look. “I have girlfriends who are still single.”
The affectionate look they share says they’re happily married. Partners. Friends. In love. I’m happy for them. And Blake is a good guy. So maybe Alanna does know what she’s talking about.
“Being single is actually pretty great,” Alanna says, then slides Blake another glance. “Not speaking personally.”
Blake grins.
“No one asking you every day what’s for dinner. The whole bed is for you. The toilet seat is always dry.” Her wistful tone has Blake’s grin sliding off his face.
“It just means a man has to improve a woman’s life, rather than make it worse, for him to be attractive to her.” She shakes her head. “A lot of men want another mother. Not you, honey.”
That’s exactly what Stella said about the asswipe she lived with.
I know I’m not like that. And I don’t think I make Stella’s life worse.
We have such great chemistry and connection; I don’t think I’m the only one feeling it.
I’m willing to keep things casual and see what happens.
But I see what Alanna’s saying. Stella does have a great life.
And she’s happy in that life. She loves her career.
She loves her friends. Her dog. Those damn orchids.
Her ability to have whatever she wants for dinner.
Spread out in her bed. Take a two-hour bubble bath whenever she wants.
How do I compete with that?