Chapter 51 – Jaxon
FIFTY-ONE
JAXON
Jordan rustles in her sleep, rolling onto her left, further into me.
Her head using my bicep as a pillow, lashes fanned out against freckled cheeks, and an arm draped across my bare chest. Smooth legs are tangled with mine as she breathes calmly, a droplet of drool pooling on me from where her mouth hangs open.
I haven’t slept much since our game against Wisconsin, especially the first few nights. I stayed up watching for any changes in her symptoms.
After she was carted off the ice, they ended up taking her to a nearby hospital for further examination. Our team doctor concluded she had a moderate concussion. Jordan never lost consciousness, but was confused and couldn’t remember what happened.
My jaw tenses.
My whole body does, blood going hot whenever I think about Luka moving across the ice with a vengeance, the replay a vivid nightmare. Images of it coming back to her as she had to relive it on the athletic trainer table make me sick. Worst, they determined it to be a clean hit.
We’re all lucky she had no other serious injuries. Besides the cut on her face requiring two stitches and bruising, Jordan was cleared to go home the next morning.
Sutton kept me updated. She and Cooper stayed with his parents, catching a ride back to Lakeland with them. I was waiting on the steps to her dorm, picking at the scabs forming on my knuckles, when their car pulled up.
Cooper wouldn’t look at me. Sutton gave me a half-apologetic smile, wandering off after him.
It would’ve been a great time for her dorm building to have an elevator.
Carefully, I scooped her into my arms, carrying her up the stairs firefighter style.
After she was tucked into bed, resting, Jordan’s parents made me promise to take care of her.
But they didn’t need to ask, I’d already internally sworn I would.
Our relationship bomb surprised neither of them, especially Mrs. C. Her dad was, as expected, inquisitive about my intentions with his daughter, but when I confessed that I love her, he smiled and revoked his meaningless threats.
That was ten days ago.
Now, I simply can’t sleep.
Jordan’s out for another week, if not more. She has a meeting scheduled with the team doctor and athletic trainers for tomorrow.
And I’m still awaiting my fate.
I was suspended from our games this past weekend, but I suspect my punishment will be more. If not from the University, but the NCAA. Unlike in the NHL, where fighting is encouraged, there are strict rules against it in college.
My phone buzzes.
Every time it does, it’s a jump scare. I think I’ve pieced together what’s going to happen and what I want to do, but it doesn’t change the looming cloud hanging over my hockey career.
Coach
My office. One hour.
I slide my phone back onto the nightstand. Reach my arm across my body, twirling a lock of her hair around my finger, thumb rubbing her shoulder.
“Mmm.” Jordan’s eyes flutter awake. “Good morning.”
“Morning, Blue.” I lean in for a soft kiss. “How are you feeling?”
“Itchy. These stitches are driving me crazy.”
“Don’t scratch,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes at me, and it cracks a smile on my face seeing her attitude return. “I’m not.”
Jordan runs her thumb under my eyes. “You need to sleep, Greene.”
“I am.”
“You’re not. I know you were pretending when I got up to pee in the middle of the night. It’s been over a week. I’m okay.”
“I know.” I sigh, then say it again, “I know. Either I can’t turn my mind off, or every time I close my eyes, I see you sprawled out on the ice. Seeing you like that—” I bite my lip.
“Hey.” She climbs on top of me, straddling my thighs. Hands cup my face. Fingers lace through my hair. We’ve been over this before. “You weren’t going to lose me. I’m here, and I’m okay.”
My hands go to her waist, playing with the cotton of another sweatshirt she stole. “I know.” I offer up a reassuring smile as I try to glean some of her stability. “Coach texted me. We’re meeting in an hour.”
Jordan nibbles on the inside of her cheek.
“I’m assuming the athletic board made a decision.”
“Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I’ll be here for you.”
“I love you, Blue.”
She says my favorite three words, plus two, and if it weren’t for needing to go see Coach, I’d find every way to get her to say them again and again. “I love you too, Greene.”
I head out from Jordan’s. There’s a chill in the air. Wisconsin is getting its first true taste of winter. Palatable, but makes me want to rewind time to this summer.
I pull on a knit sweater over a cropped shirt. Black cargos hide the New Balances Jordan got me for my birthday—they match hers even though she denies it. I snagged the Bears hat from her dresser before leaving, sliding it backward over my mangled curls.
There’s a moment of relief when I sit across from Coach. The arena was eerily silent as I made my way to his office, and opening his door, I only found him inside.
“Jaxon.” Coach finally picks his head up to acknowledge me with more than a hand wave. He was folded over a notebook when I got here, head resting on a fisted hand. The lines between his pinched brow were fierce and intimidating with concentration.
“How much trouble am I in?” I huff out a laugh, my knee steadily bouncing with anticipation.
“Because half of both benches were cleared, it’s not good.”
“You aren’t one to skate around the truth, Coach. Rip the Band-Aid, please.”
“I’m not, but”—he shakes his head, disappointment taking over every one of his features. A new kind of disappointment. One not directed at me, but for me—“I don’t agree with the decision, and I’ve been fighting them on it.”
“Fighting what?” I keep jumping in when I know I should sit quietly, patiently. The answer looms around us, presses in on my chest.
“Suspended indefinitely.”
I think a part of me knew this was going to be the outcome, accepted it before I sat down in the oversized plush chair.
“Okay.” My throat is bone dry, as I force words out. “What does this mean?”
Coach sighs, and I can tell he hates this reality as much as I do.
He sees who I am. Accepts the unserious, goober part of me; even encouraged it for team morale. Always allowing me to play music in the locker room and bus, rolling his eyes—and pretending he doesn’t think they are funny—at my jokes.
It’s one of the reasons I wanted to play for him, and now coach under him.
Coach Mathieson doesn’t just see us as jocks pushing a circular brick around a slab of ice, but as young men.
Every player that’s come through his program is nurtured and pushed to be great on the ice, but even better off of it.
I know I’m walking away a better person because of him.
Coach might be a hardass, but he’s the best coach I know. He’s the type of coach I want to become.
“You’re still on the team, but no games. No practice.”
“Can I attend games?”
“Not from the bench, and I’d let this cool off before finding a spot in the stands. The NCAA could change their mind.”
“We both know they won’t.” He gives me a solemn nod. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Coach Frank is graduating this spring, and I know he accepted an assistant coaching job back home in Vermont. Is anyone back filling him?”
“I was hoping you.”
“Really?”
“Greene, you’re an incredible hockey player and I think you’d have a fantastic, long career in the NHL.”
“But…”
“You’d be a phenomenal coach. Maybe one of the greats.
What you did with Jordan and have been doing with those kids, you’ve got a special talent.
” It wasn’t hard for Grant to convince me to continue volunteering with his team, officially accepting the coaching position the day before we left for Chicago.
“We’d be lucky to have you join our staff next year.
It does require you to be enrolled in a master’s program. ”
“I applied yesterday.” After student teaching this week, I met with my advisor.
Caught her up on what had happened with hockey, and asked about continued education.
They walked me through the programs that Lakeland offers and we landed on a Master of Education with a concentration in learning disabilities and coaching education.
While Jordan was sleeping that night, I filled out the online application.
The next morning, I told her over a bowl of cereal, and she helped me work on my essays.
Acceptances won’t go out for another month or two, but I’m confident this is what I want to do.
Plus, I don’t mind getting to be at Lakeland for another year with my favorite person. Wherever she lands, hopefully being drafted to the PWHL, or who knows maybe the NHL, I’ll follow; always being her biggest fan.
“Great.” After four years I finally get Coach to crack a smile. Between him and Jordan, someone should call me the Smile Whisperer. “We’ll stay connected about it.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
A knock raps against Coach’s door. “Come in,” he calls.
Door peeling open, Coach Buckley, our defensive coach, pops his head in. “They’re ready.”
Coach nods dismissively. “Tell them I’ll be there in five.” Turning his attention back to me, Coach stands, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Another boring athletics meeting.” He pats my shoulder before he leaves, leaving the door open.
Blue
grabbing a coffee with Xanie
and before you ask, yes, i feel good and took my medicine
she’s practically a nurse if i need anything
you should go back to your house
I take her advice, heading to the hockey house. It’s been days since I’ve been home, and when I was here, it was to replenish the clothes I’ve been keeping at Jordan’s.
Beck and Cooper’s cars are in the driveway when I make it to our street.
“Jaxon!” Madeline beams as I walk in, jumping up from the coffee table. The nail polish cap she was holding tumbles to the carpet. “I’ve missed you.”
She wraps her arms around me. I hug her back.
“I’ve missed you too, Mads.”
“How’s Jordan?”
“She’s feeling better.”