Chapter 31
Chapter
Thirty-One
Bodi
With the first home game looming, Coach is on another tear.
The arena is sold out, the press is practically camped out, and we’ve made so many community appearances I feel like an honest-to-God celebrity.
It will settle down soon. At least, that’s what everyone thinks, but for now, we can’t go anywhere without being recognized.
Which could be a problem for Jayne and me.
I’m not able to take her out as much as I’d like to, but I don’t like the idea of just hanging out at the house either. My roommates are respectful but not necessarily quiet. And neither is she.
Starting the season on a week-long road trip wasn’t ideal but the league had to do it that way because of a bunch of Cirque de Soleil dates in the new arena that couldn’t be moved, so the first home game is eight days into the season.
And we’re one and three. Not a great record.
Especially for a team with so much local support.
The fans have been great, but the atmosphere in the locker room is tense as fuck.
Everyone appears to be walking on eggshells.
There’s a little tension between Simon and Vik because after the loss in Vegas, Coach hasn’t put Vik in at all. Like he’s punishing him or something. Simon has been good about it, not saying or doing anything to rub it in, but there’s no mistaking the silence whenever they’re in the room together.
West is doing his best to encourage everyone, get us working together, but every time he makes progress, Coach comes in and tears everything down.
I’m honestly trying to understand how he even got this job.
No one likes him, I don’t think many of us respect him, and even support staff gives him a wide berth when they’re around.
From that perspective, I really miss the Phantoms.
I’ve started to miss my old team a lot these days. I definitely miss the coaching staff, the owner, and seeing Blake every day. I also had Billie close by. Everything is different here and not all of it has been good.
For one thing, being in Atlanta has been a little lonely. Jayne is pretty much the only thing making this season bearable, although I also don’t have any complaints about my roommates.
Almost everything else is just a pain in the ass. Not knowing my way around, not having any friends outside of the team, being far away from my only family. The adjustment has been a bit more difficult than I thought even though I’ve done my best to push forward.
On a more positive note, Billie and Rome are in town, and we’re getting together at the house tonight after the game.
I’m hoping Jayne will be able to come but she’s not sure if Lourdes will expect her to ride home with her and Lindy since they’re coming to the game together.
Lourdes and her father assume she doesn’t have friends or a life so it’s becoming harder to come up with reasons to be out of the house if it’s not work-related.
That’s another part of the equation that’s frustrating to me. I have this amazing girlfriend, and not only do I have to keep her a secret, I’m limited in how much time I can spend with her, even when I don’t have hockey responsibilities.
The worst part is—I don’t know how to fix it.
I get to the arena early on game day, opting to have my pre-game meal with my teammates. Most of the guys are here, and we’re quiet as we eat. We’re just about done when Coach comes in with his two assistant coaches behind him.
“Boys.” He looks around. “Have a couple of announcements. First of all, I have jerseys for your new alternate captains—let’s hear it for Bodi Michener and Blaze Villaverde.”
I nearly drop my fork when he calls my name. Of course, the fact that a fucking rookie with no points and even less experience on the team is the other alternate makes no sense.
What the hell is Coach thinking?
I exchange a quick look with West who merely smiles but everyone is clapping and cheering, just like when West was named Captain, so I have no choice but to stand up and go get my updated jersey with the A embroidered into the shoulder.
“Thanks, Coach.” I reach out to shake his hand.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he hisses under his breath.
Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.
I’m beyond pissed, but there’s nothing I can do here in front of everyone, so I turn to Blaze, who’s waiting for his jersey, and proffer my hand. “Congratulations. If you need any help or advice out there, just let me know. Always happy to give you the benefit of my experience.”
Blaze arches a brow as he reluctantly shakes my hand. “Not sure how much I can learn from someone who spent most of his career in the minors, but I appreciate the sentiment.” With that he reaches out to take his jersey from Coach.
What an ass.
West—and the rest of us—dodged a bullet by not letting this kid move in.
“I’d like to see a good effort tonight,” Coach says once everyone has settled down. “If we don’t pull out a win, be prepared to start skating laps at six a.m.” He turns and walks out of the room.
“What the fuck is happening?” Felix asks as soon as he’s gone. “He is mad?”
“He has his own way of doing things,” I respond drolly. “Some good, some not so good.”
“I don’t like what’s happening with Vik and me,” Simon says quietly. “This isn’t good for morale.”
“Oh, please.” Blaze shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal. Coach is making you guys work for it—and lots of teams alternate who’s in net every game. Basically having two starters. This is good for you, LaCroix.”
Simon scowls. “How the hell would you know? You’ve been in the big leagues all of five minutes. You think he gave you that A on your sweater because you’re so great? No one likes a teacher’s pet, buddy.”
Blaze’s face turns red as he glares at Simon. “Fuck you.”
Then he turns and stomps out of the room.
West’s gaze sharpens, but neither of us says anything for a beat.
I don’t know what Blaze’s problem is or if he’s the one who told Coach I had company in Vegas but I know someone is reporting back to Coach. The only question is whether they’re watching me specifically or the team in general.
And since I’d bet my left nut it isn’t West or any of our roommates, this is going to make an already difficult situation even worse.
The game is rough.
We go into the third period tied at three and it’s brutal. More fights than I can remember this early in a season. A lot of penalties on both sides. And I’m starting to learn that when the vein on the right side of Coach’s face, just above his eyebrow, starts to throb, he’s going to blow.
The good news is that I have a goal and an assist with zero penalty minutes.
Unfortunately, there’s still nearly ten minutes left in the game and it’s obvious the Phantoms aren’t giving up without a fight. Vik is in net and he’s all but stood on his head to keep us in it tonight, but if we can’t dig up some offense, it won’t matter.
West draws a penalty putting us on the power play, and I’m surprised again when Coach puts me in. Special teams isn’t my forte but Coach doesn’t seem to care about any of that. He just wants us to do what he says when he says it—without any regard for our skill set or personality.
I’m out on the ice with West, Felix, and Ashton. I still don’t know him very well, but he seems like a good guy and tonight he’s on fire. One of our goals is his, and now he’s looking for another.
He sets himself up in front of the net and I pass to him. He shoots it over to Felix, who takes the shot but hits the post. The Phantoms are down a man but it feels like they’re everywhere. They seem like a really excellent team this year and I’m a little frustrated I’m on a team that…isn’t.
“Bodi, head’s up!” Felix calls to me and I duck out of the way as a puck comes flying toward my face. It drops in front of me and I slap shot it toward the net but it goes wide. Ashton grabs it, dekes around one of the Phantoms’ D-men and smacks it into the goalie’s glove.
Dammit.
So close.
The ref blows the whistle and we move in for a faceoff.
I’m to Felix’s left and Blake is across from him, but Felix’s faceoff game is on point.
The puck pretty much sails right onto the blade of my stick.
There’s a small opening between the goalie’s legs and I aim for it.
Just as Blake’s stick comes up and slices across my cheek.
Somewhere in my peripheral vision, I see the red light go off but I’m holding my face because whatever just happened hurts like a motherfucker.
“Sorry, man.” Blake’s voice is contrite and I know it was an accident, but there’s blood dripping down my glove as I skate to the bench.
Our head trainer, a guy named Phil Darnell, immediately presses a towel to my cheek.
“Let me see, Bodi,” he says in a no-nonsense voice.
I’m not typically squeamish but the amount of blood on my glove is giving me pause.
“Okay, you might need a couple of stitches. Let’s get you in the back.”
“Do it here,” I grunt. “Just get it done.”
He shakes his head but starts gathering his things.
“Nice one!” West says, sinking down next to me. “Now if we can just hang the fuck on for nine more minutes.”
“You’re okay?” Felix asks, sitting on my other side.
“All good.” I close my eyes as Phil sprays something on my face that stings.
“Nice job, Bodi.” Coach smacks my shoulder.
I don’t respond since Phil is injecting something into my face. Some kind of numbing agent but fuck, this shit sucks. I’ve never had to get stitches on the bench before and it’s a good thing I have a strong stomach.
“Four minutes,” Felix murmurs at some point.
I can’t open my eyes so I’m glad he’s distracting me.
“Almost done, B,” Phil says.
“Bodi, get back out there.” I’ve barely put my helmet back on before Coach is tapping my shoulder.
I swing my legs over the boards without thinking but I’m a little flustered. I can be a tough guy all day long but there’s just under a minute left.
Did we really need a line change?
Or is this some kind of test?
There’s no way to know, so I put my head down and head toward the faceoff circle.