Chapter Thirty-Four
Matt
To no one’s surprise because Coach had a hockey stick up his ass, we were getting destroyed.
The conference championship was a weekend series, best of three games. We’d already lost last night, two to three. Which meant that if we lost this game right now, it was over.
We were practically handing them the conference trophy. The scoreboard read two to four, and I glanced at it every few moments as if it would magically change in front of my eyes.
With ten minutes left of the entire game, it wasn’t looking good, and every team member was getting antsy as hell.
I was in my gear, which was misleading considering I hadn’t played a single minute all fucking weekend, and according to Coach, I wasn’t going to.
The team freaked when they found out Coach benched me, and even Jett pleaded with him to undo his decision, but he refused.
Brody Moore was a sophomore, a talented defenseman to his core. He had been pulled up from our second string to replace me. The problem? Everyone only had two days to adjust to the line changes.
It had taken us nearly an entire season to build up our chemistry on the starting line and for the team as whole. And it had only taken two days for all of that to be ravaged.
Watching from the bench was harder than I’d ever imagined. My natural instinct was to be on my feet the whole time, waiting for my turn on the ice.
This was rough. The worst punishment that could’ve been handed to me. Not only did I have to sit back and bite my tongue as we embarrassed ourselves against our rivals, but I had to watch Cody out there, which may have been the most brutal part.
He’d tried apologizing over the last few days for his role in me getting benched, but they were all empty apologies. Hollow. Short. Doubtful. And I hadn’t been in the mood to listen to them.
Truthfully, I’d still been avoiding him, going to El’s whenever I could.
This all would’ve been an easier pill to swallow if Coach had taken us both out.
Cody was the backstabber. He was the liar. The shitty friend and shitty teammate. But because I was the monster, I was the only one getting punished.
When Keith missed a pass from Brody, the puck landed right back into the possession of St. Cloud, who moved like they had rockets on their skates. They wanted that damn trophy, and by the looks of it, they were going to get it.
A sea of red rushed towards Cody. They wasted no time taking a shot at him, but he managed to block it. Luckily, Jett snagged the rebound, tossing the puck away for a line change. He heaved through his cage as he reached the bench. “Coach, we need to put Matt in.”
Arms crossed tightly, Coach Palmer’s stoic expression didn’t shift in the slightest. He didn’t even bother looking at Jett. Other team members butted in, each one prompting Coach, pleading with him, to lift the fucking curse he put on me and let me play.
With the clock down to seven minutes, the decision would make or break us.
Standing like a statue beside me in his clean, black suit, Coach’s foot tapped the floor.
He was thinking about it.
“Coach,” Jett begged, “please. We’re getting killed. Put Matt in.”
My heartbeat picked up, ready to leap onto the ice at a moment’s notice. I didn’t take my eyes off Coach, burning him with my gaze, trying my best to get inside his mind.
But we all should’ve known better.
Coach had never been one to go back on his word.
It looked like it pained him to say it. “No,” he firmly stated, separating himself a few steps to watch his own team’s demise.
Well, this fucking sucks.