Chapter 36
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Adam: Wanna come over and play Madden? Or Call of Duty?
Mateo: Hey, can you review some footage for me? I need your advice.
Caleb: How’s your leg? Need anything?
Shifting, I try to get comfortable on the couch. I’m supposed to keep my leg elevated, but my butt is going numb. My apartment is quiet—the entire building is quiet—and it’s unnatural. It makes sense that it would be empty and silent during a game, but I’ve never experienced it before.
It’s Thanksgiving break. Most of the guys don’t go home on Thursday unless they live close, because we still have games on Friday and Saturday. I mean, they still have games. They’re at the arena, facing off against the Buckeyes tonight.
The rest of campus is dead. Once upon a time, I thought I might spend the holiday with Natalie and her family. But apparently the GrubHub tips are too good to pass up, and so they’re not celebrating this year. She claimed she’d stop by yesterday, but it didn’t happen. And I don’t want to beg for scraps of her time. Or take her away from her priorities.
I could turn on the TV, but I don’t feel like it. I’ve watched more YouTube and Netflix in the past week than probably in my whole life combined. I could load the PS5, but without an opponent, NHL 2K22 is boring.
That might be as close as I come to hockey for the foreseeable future, and that thought is too damn depressing. So I shy away from it.
Instead, I mindlessly scroll on my phone. I avoid the team’s Instagram and other accounts out of solidarity for Natalie, but really, I wouldn’t check them, anyway. Why would I want to see what I’m missing?
I open my calendar app and start deleting invites to things I won’t attend. Hockey practice, away games. Jasmine’s birthday celebration. No one will notice if I’m not there.
The entrance keypad beeps, and the noise of Cooper, Evan, and Jonas trooping in the door obliterates the stillness.
“That pass you had to Jonas was incredible,” Cooper says, tipping his hat to Evan, who punches Jonas’s arm.
“Yeah, it was, but not as incredible as his goal. Way to go, man.” Jonas grins at Evan’s compliment, and I tamp down a flash of jealousy.
Jonas moved up to the first line to take my spot. I’m glad he’s doing well. I just wish I could be out on the ice, helping my team. I miss the smell of the arena, the speed of the game, the rush of adrenaline that comes only from hockey.
But I need to get used to this empty feeling without it. Because this is my new normal.
Evan turns to me, still smiling wide. “You should have seen it. Jonas tipped us over against Ohio State for a beautiful win.”
He’s right, I should have seen it. Even injured, I’m still the captain. I’m supposed to show up for games and cheer on my teammates.
But I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t make myself go into the locker room and grab my jersey, watching everyone else get ready for a game I couldn’t play. Couldn’t crutch my way out onto the ice, listen to polite applause at my appearance, and sit on the bench for three periods. Couldn’t get excited about a win I had no part of.
Evan stares at me, waiting for a response.
I swallow. “Yeah. Hopefully next time I’ll feel up to coming.”
I rap my knuckles on the boot on my foot and give it a rueful look, like that’s the reason I wasn’t there. He must buy it, because he continues to give me the play-by-play of the game, not noticing that every word cuts like a knife.
Hockey was the most important thing in my life for as long as I can remember. Do I love it because I’m—or was—good at it, or am I good at it because I love it? Do I love it for me or for the attention it got me from my dad?
I’m not sure. All I know is that I miss it so damn much.And without it, my dad has dropped me like an over-ripe gym bag. I thought his constant texts and calls about my games were bad. But now having confirmation that it’s the only reason he’d contact me? That hurts like a slam into the boards.
Evan continues to give me his recap, then messes with my hair on the way to his room.
“Get dressed. We’re going out to celebrate.”
I press my lips together as he and Jonas high five and disappear down the hallway.
Cooper is not as easy to fool, though. He flops down on the couch next to me and stares. “You should come, you know. It’s been two weeks since you’ve left the house.”
“That’s not true. I go to class and my PT appointments.”
He rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Come out with us tonight. Everyone misses you.”
But I shake my head and point at my leg. “I can’t navigate a crowded bar with crutches.”
“If you think I’m going to offer to carry you, you’re dreaming.” He smiles, and I can’t help but smile back at his joke. “But I’m serious. We could make it work.”
I can’t go out and celebrate a victory I didn’t earn. Changing out of sweatpants and pretending to be excited to see the guys is too much. Because while the absence of the team is like a gaping hole in my chest, I also can’t stomach seeing them. Everyone will ask how I’m doing, and I don’t have any good news. If I can handle a bar, they’ll expect me to come to their games. I just can’t.
So I shake my head again, not meeting Cooper’s gaze. “Nah, I’m not up for it.”
“You should call Natalie, then. See if she can come over. I don’t want you to be alone all the time.”
“Thanks for the dating advice, Mom. I really appreciate you meddling in my relationship.”
He smiles like the sarcastic ass he is. “You’re welcome.”
“If it will get you off my back, I’ll text her, but I’m pretty sure she has to work.”
“Is she doing okay with the GrubHub thing?”
Genuine concern shines in his eyes, but I don’t know what to say. Because I’m not really sure. We’ve chatted lately, of course. She checks in to see how I’m doing, or if I need anything. She always offers to drive me anywhere I need to go. But we haven’t connected or talked about anything real. She’s so busy putting on a good front that I don’t know how she’s feeling.But I can’t tell Cooper that.
So I nod. “Yeah. The hours keep her busy, but she says the pay is good.”
“I’m glad. The team misses her.” Instead of leaving, he settles in on the couch. “And we miss you. You’re still the captain, you know. Everyone thinks so. Even if you’re not on the ice.”
No, he’s the captain now. He really doesn’t get it.
“I can’t be a captain if I can’t play,” I say under my breath. Like if I admit it out loud, it makes it true.
But Cooper shakes his head. “You can still be part of things.”
He doesn’t get it. Hockey is all I have. I cross my arms and stare at the carpet, but he keeps talking.
“Do Coach Russell and Bouchard contribute any less because they’re not on the ice?”
I shrug. I’m being a petulant baby, but I can’t get out of this funk. Besides, it’s easy for him to say this, with his two functioning legs and stellar season.
My silence doesn’t deter him. “No, they don’t, is the answer I was looking for. But let’s play it out. Worst-case scenario.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Tell me. What’s the absolute worst thing that could happen?”
I gesture at the boot on my foot. “This. I get injured, the Blackhawks don’t want me, and I never play hockey again.”
Cooper nods. “Then what?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. What’s next if I can’t play hockey?”
He ticks off points on his fingers. “You graduate from Harrison with a good degree.”
I roll my eyes. I’m so sick of this speech.
He glares. “It’s a good degree. They don’t give out bad ones. But if you don’t like it, you could get another one. Specialize. Get your MBA. Whatever. But you’ll have one, which means you can get a job. It doesn’t have to be perfect but a place to start.”
I’ve never thought of that. Maybe an MBA would make my degree more robust, fill in the gaps I’m missing. Do I want a business job? I don’t know, but Cooper’s right. It would give me a chance to figure it out.
Cooper keeps talking, listing things. “You could be a sports agent or take a gap year. Join the Peace Corps. Coach Pee-Wee hockey. Invest in real estate. You could—”
“The Peace Corps? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore.”
I smile, letting him know I’m messing with him, and he laughs, breaking the tension.
“Okay, maybe not that one. But the thing is—you stuck around Harrison because you wanted to be a part of this team. Even if it looks different than you planned, don’t let that opportunity pass you by.”
I mull over his words. I’ll never admit it to him, but maybe he has a point. It’s just so much harder than I expected to be sidelined.