Chapter Forty-Five Zephyr #2
“I don’t care if it’s a bad week or a bad month. You three are the best line in the conference when you’re functioning. So function.”
“And if we can’t?” Jax asks.
Coach steps closer to him. Voice low and dangerous. “Then you sit. And I’ll put someone else in who wants to play. Clear?”
Jax holds his gaze for a long moment. Then nods.
“Good. Now get your shit together.”
We head back to the locker room in silence.
Callum pulls off his practice jersey. “This is going to be a bloodbath.”
“We’ll make it work,” I say.
“How? He won’t even look at me on the ice.”
“We play through it. We adjust.”
“We shouldn’t have to adjust. He should just play like a fucking teammate.”
Jax slams his locker. “I’m right here.”
“Then act like it,” Callum snaps.
“Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you. You’re the one being a crybaby asshole.”
Jax takes a step toward him. I step between them.
“Not here,” I say firmly. “Not now.”
“Get out of my way, Zeff.”
“No.”
Jax’s fists clench. For a second, I think he might actually swing. Then he grabs his bag and walks out.
Callum punches his locker. “Goddammit.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“When? Because we play in four hours and he’s acting like we don’t exist.”
I don’t have an answer.
The game starts at four.
Arizona State comes out fast. Aggressive. Physical.
First shift, Micah wins the faceoff. Passes to Jax. Jax drives up the right wing. Callum’s open in the slot.
Jax shoots instead. Wide. Misses the net completely.
Second shift, same thing. Callum open. Jax shoots.
Blocked.
Third shift, I try to set up a play from the back. Pass to Jax. He’s supposed to pass to Callum who’ll one-time it.
Jax holds it too long, tries to go himself, and loses the puck.
Arizona scores on the counter.
1-0.
On the bench, Callum throws his stick. “What the fuck was that?”
Jax doesn’t respond.
Coach glares at all of us but says nothing.
Second period is worse.
Arizona scores again. Then again.
3-0.
I take a stupid penalty. Hooking. Out of frustration. Two minutes in the box watching them score on the power play.
4-0.
When I get back to the bench, Callum won’t look at me. Jax is staring at the ice.
We’re falling apart.
Third period, Coach benches Jax and puts in one of the younger guys instead.
Jax doesn’t argue. He sits at the end of the bench, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.
We lose 4-1.
Worst game of the season.
The locker room after is silent. Angry. Everyone knows exactly who’s to blame.
Asher throws his pads. “What the fuck, guys?”
Nolan comments, “That was embarrassing.”
Micah adds, “We looked like a junior varsity team.”
Coach walks in and looks at each of us. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I don’t want to hear apologies. I want to see it fixed by next game. Because if we play like that in playoffs, we’re done. Clear?”
“Yes, Coach.”
He leaves.
Jax is the first one out. He doesn’t shower, doesn’t talk to anyone. He just grabs his bag and goes.
Callum watches him leave.
We shower, get dressed, and head back to the hotel.
In our room, Callum throws himself on his bed. “We should call her.”
“And tell her what? That we lost because Jax is being a child?”
“She should know.”
“It’ll just make her feel worse.”
“She’s going to find out anyway.”
He’s right.
I pull out my phone and FaceTime Tiger.
She answers on the second ring. She’s in bed, hair pulled back, wearing one of my hoodies.
“Hey,” she says. Her smile fades when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
“We lost.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She sits up. “Bad game?”
“Really bad game.”
Callum leans into frame. “Hey, Tiger.”
“Hey, Cal. You okay?”
“Been better.”
She looks between us. “Where’s Jax?”
Long pause.
“In his room,” I say carefully.
“Is he okay?”
“Probably not.”
Her face crumples slightly. “I should call him.” She pulls the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands. “But I don’t know what to say to him.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “He’s the one who opted out.”
“But maybe if I—”
“Tiger.” Callum’s voice is firm. “This isn’t on you to fix. He’s the one who needs to figure his shit out.”
She nods but doesn’t look convinced.
“Tell us about Marcus,” I say, changing the subject. “You said the meeting went well?”
She lets us redirect her. She tells us about the appeal process, about how Marcus thinks they have a strong case, and she’s terrified.
We talk for almost an hour. About everything except Jax.
When we finally hang up, Callum says, “She’s going to call him.”
“Probably.”
“And he’s going to make her feel like shit for not choosing him.”
“Maybe.”
“We should talk to him.”
“He won’t listen.”
“We have to try.”
I’m about to respond when there’s a knock on the door.
I open it.
Jax is standing there. His hair is wet like he just showered.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
I let him in.
He stands in the middle of the room. Callum sits up on his bed.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Jax says.
“Do what?” I ask like an idiot.
He looks…tortured. “I’m fucking pissed.”
“You fucked up tonight with the team.”
“The team doesn’t matter right now.”
“Bullshit.” My voice rises. “The team is all we have if this doesn’t work out. And the way you’re going, we’re going to lose everything. The team. The friendship. Her.”
He runs his hands through his hair like he’s defeated, like his mind has been spinning for days. “Do you really think it’ll work out? Three guys, one girl?”
“We don’t fucking know because you’re putting her through hell, man,” Callum says.
“I’m not doing it on fucking purpose, Cal. I can’t fucking help it.”
I add, “I think you’re just protecting yourself.”
“You’re going to lose her if you keep this up,” Callum says. “She’s not going to wait forever for you to get your shit together.”
Jax looks at both of us. “I don’t know what to do.”
“She chose you to be public with, dude,” Callum says. “She didn’t choose me or Zephyr. She won’t even look at us in public. She chose you, not us. Why isn’t that enough?”
Jax doesn’t answer.
We sit in silence for a while. Then he stands.
“I’m sorry about the game,” he says quietly.
I raise a brow at Cal. He shrugs.
He looks at me. “I fucked up and let the team down.” He walks to the door and stops. “This is easy for you two?”
I look at Cal and shrug. “Honestly, Jax. She didn’t give us a choice.”
Cal adds, “And given the choice to have her or not, I’d do anything to have her.”
He nods. Then he leaves.