Chapter 27
“Hey! What are you doing here?” A sweaty Keith steps in front of me as I exit the locker room.
“What does it look like?” I ask, downing the bottle of water in my hand. Brie left it on the kitchen counter this morning with a note attached. It read, ‘Stay Hydrated.’
We haven’t exactly been speaking to each other since I got discharged from the hospital. I’ve been doing a good job keeping to my room and licking my wounds, whilst heeding to the doctor’s instructions to get enough rest and stay away from the rink. He doesn’t understand, no one does.
One of the things that has kept me from letting my demons win has been the constant texts and calls from my other teammates.
I really appreciate their support. The only person who didn’t reach out is Collins and I wonder why.
Brie said he’s the one who texted her, so he knew I was in the hospital.
I’ll definitely give him a call after practice.
Keith wipes the sweat from his brows, an irritated expression still on his face. “Do you have a death wish?”
I maintain a blank expression. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t fucking piss me off with this act, Cameron. What are you doing here? It’s been barely twenty-four hours since you got discharged and––”
“And there’s less time left before the big game.” I interject.
He shakes his head. “Is that what you’re worried about? Ever heard the saying that health is wealth? You won’t be able to make it to that big game if you are not fully recovered and even if you do, you’ll be absolutely useless out there.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” I reply, flexing my arm muscle and bouncing on both feet to test my stamina.
I have been experiencing multiple waves of dizziness since the accident, and this is the longest I’ve been on my feet since then.
My mind says I can make it to the game, but I’m mad at my body for kicking against that and weighing us both down.
That’s why I’m out here today. I need to prove my body wrong.
Keith exhales and places a hand on my shoulder. “You know I have your best interest at heart, right?”
I muster a smile. “When have I ever doubted that?”
He chuckles and we head to the rink together.
“Ready?” Keith nudges me with his stick, a small smile on his face. His eyes flicker, a quick check to see if I’m steady.
“Yeah,” I lie, tugging the helmet on and fastening the strap. “Ready.”
I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. We step onto the ice, and I push myself forward with much effort. The coach barks orders and I’m not sure if it’s that or the sound of our sticks hitting the puck that makes me wince.
Every sound suddenly feels more amplified as I dart across the ice.
My eyes tear up in that same instant. What’s happening to me?
I ask myself but there’s no time to process the thought further as the coach barks an instruction at me.
I grit my teeth and push forward. My legs feel heavier and I struggle to maintain my balance.
I skate too wide on the corners, catching myself before I stumble.
Nobody says anything but I notice the looks.
‘You’ll never be back in shape before the game,’ a nasty voice says in my head.
I groan.
After the warm-up laps come the drills. It’s basically passing and chasing. The puck smacks my stick, I send it forward, but the timing’s too slow. West catches it anyway, shooting me a look that says I’ve got you, but it hurts. I can do better than this so why am I fumbling like a rookie?
“Eyes up, Gray!” Coach’s voice reaches my ears from across the rink. “You look like you’re half-asleep out there!”
I grit my jaw and shove harder into the ice. My lungs burn, my head pounding with each stride. ‘You should have just sat your ass home.’ I ignore the voice even though it might be right.
Scrimmage starts and this is where the fear really eats at me.
Bodies crash into the boards and sticks clash.
The puck flies by my line of vision in a blur.
My chest tightens as players barrel past me, their shoulders brushing mine.
Every hit sounds like it’s right inside my head.
I freeze in the corner for a second, long enough for someone else to scoop it and dash down the rink.
What’s going on with me? Damn!
Coach blows the whistle at a dangerous length that I know means only one thing––he’s not letting that slide.
“Gray!” He’s glaring now with his jaw clenched. “What the hell was that? You had the lane wide open!”
I open my mouth, but no excuse comes out.
“Get your head in the game or get off the ice!” He barks, a furious finger wagging in my direction.
I want to yell back and tell him that I’m trying my best out here but instead, I force myself back into position, my chest tightening with fury.
The puck comes again and instinctively, I chase it down. My stick swings, ready for the shot and then a shadow comes from the side. I sense that whoever it is will crash into me if I don’t move faster.
I blink and it feels like it was only in my imagination. It’s too late now though, the puck has slipped off my stick. My vision blurs for a second before taking shape.
The whistle shrieks.
“Enough, Gray!” Coach points to the bench. “Sit. Now.”
I don’t argue because I need to take a breather before my lungs collapse.
My legs carry me off the ice. I drop onto the bench with the helmet in my hands and rest my head in my palms. I sit there and rethink my choice of coming out today.
Keith’s worried expression in the locker room earlier flashes through my mind.
I shake my head, pushing away the image.
“The team needs me. I can’t be anywhere else but here,” I say aloud to convince myself.
He calls me to join them later, but I don’t fare any better, at least by my standards. A few of my teammates pay me on the back encouragingly and I merely nod.
I feel eyes on me as I’m drinking water.
I look up and catch Jack’s eye. He’s smirking and has the guts to throw a mock salute at me.
I clench my fists and move towards him to find out what all that is about.
I want to confront him so badly about the accident, but I’ll leave that for later. First, this.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Keith asks, walking right into my path.
“I have to deal with him, Keith. He can’t get away with everything every time.”
“I understand what you mean but not here and especially not now.” I shift my weight from one side to another impatiently. Keith just had to intervene. Why can’t he let things be?
“You just got back, and I can’t have the Coach hitting you with another suspension this close to the big game. Keep it together, Cam.”
I huff, turn and stomp to the corner to cool off. “One of these days, I’ll squeeze the life out of that demon,” I mutter.
Three Hours Later
Coach’s whistle pierces the air bringing the game to an end. “Alright, that’s chill. Bring it in, boys. We’ll meet back here in an hour for a brief meeting.”
“Cameron, a word please,” he calls out. I jog over to him and grab the bottle of water he’s offering.
“Hey, Coach.” I take his hand in a firm handshake. We walk side by side and then take a seat on the sidelines simultaneously.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I reply almost immediately.
“You think? If you’re fine like you claim, what was all that shameful display out there?”
I open my mouth to explain but he beats me to it.
“Listen, you hit your head but if your feet led you to this rink today then I’m sure a part of you still remembers the rules of the game and how everything works out here.”
I swallow nervously as he keeps talking.
“There’s no other way to say what I’m about to say but I’ll say it anyway.” He exhales, “We are running out of time and right now, you’re the only weak link. Don’t forget why you started in the first place, Cameron.”
He pats my back and smiles, “I know you won’t let us down.”
With that, he leaves. I sit there for a while letting his words sink into my consciousness.
“Hey, are you hungry?”
I look up at Keith who’s typing away on his phone. “Yeah, I guess I could eat.”
“Good, let’s go then.”
We settle for ‘Dine With Gianna’ since it’s the closest to the rink and Keith’s stomach has been grumbling.
“You did good out there today,” Keith remarks after the server has brought our meals.
I scoff, “There’s no need trying to make me feel better. I know I didn’t do shit out there. Even a rookie can do better.”
Keith slams his fork on the plate and the sound makes me wince.
He murmurs an apology and says, “I was playing too, okay? I know what I saw. I didn’t say it was your best but that’s your first attempt since the accident so you deserve all the credit.
Tomorrow, you’ll be back there no matter what anyone says or thinks, do you hear me? ”
I can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes my lips at the seriousness in his tone. “Yeah, sure. I wasn’t planning to back down after today.”
“How are things with you and Brie?” he asks as he nibbles on his steak.
The sound of his phone ringing saves me from answering that.
He answers the call. After a few minutes, I observe how tense his posture has become.
He mouths that it’s his mom, and I nod in understanding as he excuses himself to take the rest of the call in a reserved area of the restaurant.
Their conversation tends to get heated, but they have a great relationship, a rarity in my life.
I lean back and scroll through my social media handles to see the opinions of people about the accident. I’m rocked back on my heels when I find out that there’s no single mention of the news anywhere. Damn, Collins is doing a great job.
When Keith returns, he tells me what his mom has been up to, and he doesn’t bring up Brie again. He gives me a pep talk about getting my head in the game, and then we’re going our separate ways for the night.