Chapter 6
Ash
“How did it go with the doc last night?” Kelsier asks as we step onto the treadmills the next day. “Did she fix you?”
“She gave me fucking homework,” I say as I turn the machine on and the belt begins to move.
Kelsier looks like he’s about to burst out laughing, and I give him a ‘Don’t you fucking dare’ look.
He purses his lips and suppresses the laugh before he asks, “What kind of homework? You got an essay due already?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth again.
“No, she wants me to make some notes before I see her again on Sunday,” I say.
“What kind of notes?”
“I’m supposed to reflect on my ‘ideal image.’”
Kelsier stares at me. “What?”
I wave a hand as we bump the treadmills up to a fast walk.
“The doc says trash talk can make people feel shame and rage, and shame happens when a person’s ideal image of themself is threatened.
She wants me to decide what mine is and think back to the times I got angry over guys chirping at me.
She wants to see if they,” I put up air quotes, “‘challenged my ideal image.’”
Kelsier continues to stare at me before giving an ‘Okay, whatever’ shrug. “How’s that going to help?”
“Not sure yet,” I say. “I think it’s one of those things where I can maybe handle the chirping better if I know why it affects me?”
“And the rage part?”
“We haven’t gotten that far yet. She said something about looking into anger interventions.”
“Like anger management?” he asks.
“I guess so.”
Kelsier nods, and we increase the treadmills to a light jog.
“I looked her up on the university’s website,” Kelsier says. “She’s pretty. I thought you said she was frumpy looking?”
“She was dressed that way the first time I saw her, but she looked nice last night.” I shrug. “I suppose she was cute.”
I think back to my meeting with the doc. I couldn’t help noticing her legs in her yoga pants. I normally go for really slim women, but there was a shapeliness to the doc’s thighs, a roundness, that appealed to me. Like they’d be something to hold onto when…
I shake the thought away. Clearly my body is trying to tell me it’s been too long since I’ve had sex if I’m thinking of the doc that way.
Kelsier chuckles. “We’ll get you hot-for-teach yet. You should bring her in to meet the team.”
“And why the fuck would I do that?”
“Maybe she can figure out more pieces of the puzzle if she sees all the knuckleheads you work with,” he suggests. “Plus, I want to meet her.”
“I can’t bring her here. No one is supposed to know I’m seeing her.”
Kelsier scoffs. “Did you think you were going to keep that a secret? The whole team knows already.”
“What?” I glare at him. “What the fuck, Kels!”
He holds up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Then how the fuck does everyone know already?”
“Cote’s sister goes to the university and saw you come out of Dr. Mackey’s office the other day,” Ryan Petruck calls from two treadmills down. He’s a 6’6” defenseman we call “Mack” because he’s built like a Mack Truck, and getting hit by him feels much the same.
“Fuck,” I say.
“Cote kept it off the group chat,” Mack goes on, “but it made the rounds anyway. When coach overheard, he swore us all to secrecy. Anyone who blabs outside the team gets benched for two games.”
“And no one bothered to tell me everyone knew?” I ask indignantly.
“Nah,” Mack says as he continues to lumber on the treadmill. The poor machine strains under his solid weight. He was a competitive lifter in his high school days before he decided to focus on hockey.
“We’ve all got bets on how long it takes you to fuck her, by the way,” Mack adds. “Kels is right. She’s cute.”
I frown. “Jesus Christ, Mack. She’s not a bunny. She’s a professor.”
“So?” Mack says. “You don’t think some of those puck bunnies have big, impressive jobs?”
“I’m not interested in her,” I say.
Mack looks at me like I just said Wayne Gretzky is overrated. “Dude, if you don’t want her, bring her by and let the rest of us try our luck.”
An unexpected twinge of something plucks in my chest at the thought of introducing the doc to the team. She’s pretty enough, but I’m not attracted to her. I mean, there was the way she bit her lip when she stopped to think, but…
I shake my head. I need to cut those thoughts off right now. Dr. Mackey is my…therapist? My psychologist? My…trash talk guru?
Whatever. I’m not sure how long we’ll be working together, so getting involved with her is a bad idea regardless.
“Why would I want to subject her to all you idiots?” I ask Mack.
He waves a ‘To hell with you’ hand at me as he increases the speed on his treadmill, and it groans in protest.
“What can it hurt to bring her by?” Kelsier asks. “Since everyone already knows.”
I frown at him, but he gives me an unapologetic look as we bump the treadmills up again.
“Hey, coach!” Mack calls across the room. “Gunny wants to bring his doc by to meet the team. It will help her figure out why he’s such a headcase or something. He was afraid to ask you.”
Kelsier and I whip our heads around to see Coach Davis and one of the trainers huddled over a tablet on the other side of the room. Coach glances up briefly to acknowledge Mack.
“Yeah, sure,” Coach Davis says. “Whatever helps.” He goes back to his discussion with the trainer.
“I didn’t-,” I start to protest, but Kelsier cuts me off.
“Thanks, Coach!” he yells before I can get anything out.
I turn and glare at him again. “What the fuck?”
He shrugs. “Sorry. I really want to meet her.”
“Yeah, but she’s not just going to meet you. She’s going to meet the rest of these assholes too.”
“Asshole and proud!” Mack says, pumping a fist in the air as he jogs.
“I’m gonna fucking beat the shit out of you both,” I grumble.
Mack chuckles. “Good luck. I’ll even give you the first swing.”
He’s right. I’d only hurt my fist on his jaw if I tried to hit him, and then he’d pound me into the ground.
“Looks like it’s a done deal,” Kelsier says, grinning at me. “When can we expect to meet her?”
“When hell freezes over,” I tell him.
“Man, don’t make me steal your phone and text her,” he says, and he bumps his treadmill up again to a run. “This is happening.”
I follow suit and turn mine up. There’s still a chance the doc will turn down the invitation, and I cling to that slim hope. I’m not sure why I don’t want her coming here – the guys aren’t that bad – but for some reason, I don’t want to expose her to them.
Maybe I like having the focused attention, and I’m worried about losing that if she comes here and meets everyone else.
Maybe I just don’t want to share her.
Ash
Later that night, my finger hovers over the ‘Send’ button on my phone as I watch TV. I’ve typed a message to the doc, deleted it, and retyped it about three times now. Each version of the message makes the invitation more and more my idea.
Ash
Hey, so Coach was thinking maybe you should come meet
Delete.
Ash
I’ve been telling the guys on the team about you, and they
Delete.
Ash
Would you be interested in coming by the rink to meet the rest of the team? It could give you an idea about the vibe among the guys. You said you didn’t know much about hockey.
My finger is nearly touching the screen, and I’ve almost decided to delete this message and try again when my finger accidentally brushes the ‘Send’ button.
And now it’s on its way. Fuck.
I stare at the phone, TV show forgotten, as I wait to see what happens.
It’s almost a minute before the app indicates the message has been seen, and I hold my breath, watching for the three dots that show the doc is typing.
They stop, and when I don’t see them after a minute, I force myself to put the phone down.
I wasn’t sure how the invitation would be received, and now I worry the doc is reading into it. But this is all business. If meeting the guys gives her insight into why I react to trash talk the way I do, then let her come.
It’s almost twenty minutes before my phone finally pings with an incoming text.
Gray
I can come if you think it will help.
It’s not an enthusiastic acceptance, but neither was my invitation.
Ash
I’m not sure it will, but one of my teammates thought it might, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.
A pause before the dots bounce again.
Gray
When were you thinking?
Ash
The season starts next week, and we’re away for the first two games. How about when we get back?
Gray
Sounds good.
I wonder if I should text her back with an exact day and time, but the dots bounce again, and I wait to see what she’s typing.
Gray
Am I still coming by your place on Sunday?
Ash
Yeah that works.
A pause before the dots appear again.
Gray
Have you been doing your homework?
I smile. Her tone seems playful, and I decide to be a smartass.
Ash
I did, but my dog ate it.
Gray
I don’t recall you having a dog.
Ash
My neighbor’s dog ate it?
Gray
{{Eye roll emoji}}
Gray
It’s a good thing you have time to redo it before Sunday.
Ash
I’m a procrastinator
Suddenly I feel bad for giving her a hard time. She must deal with this bullshit all the time from her actual students.
Ash
Sorry. Just kidding. Do your real students act like this?
Gray
You have no idea.
The dots bounce for a bit longer.
Gray
Don’t get me wrong. Most of my students are great. There’s always just a couple each year that make you reconsider your life choices.
I send a laughing emoji.
Ash
I was probably one of those students in high school. I got my act together more in college to stay eligible for my hockey scholarship.
Gray
On behalf of your college professors, thank you.
I snort.
Ash
What are you doing now?
Suddenly I’m curious about her and what she does.
Gray
Almost done grading homework. Then I need to plan my lesson for Monday, work on a research proposal, and maybe do some more digging on anger interventions.
My brows arch as I look at the time on my phone.
Ash
Holy shit doc. It’s already 9pm.
Our neighbor when I was a kid used to complain that teachers got paid for a whole year while only doing nine months of work, but it seems like they cram a whole year’s worth of work into the nine months.
Gray
And only three more hours of work to go. {{winking emoji}}
Ash
At least you get summers off?
Gray
Not really. That’s when most faculty catch up on research. If they don’t teach a summer class.
God damn.
Ash
And why did you choose this career again?
Gray
For the prestige. Or the children. I forget.
I chuckle. She’s snarky, and I like it.
Gray
If you didn’t play hockey, what would you be?
I think for a minute. There was never really a time I considered doing something other than playing hockey, and luckily, I was always good enough that pursuing a career in it was a viable option.
Now that my future in hockey is threatened, though, maybe I need to start considering alternatives.
The thought makes my gut clench, and I shake it away.
Ash
I went through a dinosaur phase when I was young, so there was a brief period I wanted to be a paleontologist.
Ash
Actually, I wanted to be a dinosaur trainer, but when I learned that wasn’t an option, paleontologist was a close second.
She sends a laughing emoji.
Gray
I’ll observe a moment of silence for the death of that dream. It’s a good thing you found hockey to fill the void.
I respond with my own laughing emoji.
Ash
It still hurts a little to know I’ll never ride a T-Rex.
Her crying emoji comes through.
Ash
I’ll let you get back to grading. Don’t want you to be up past midnight. We can talk dates for meeting the team when I see you Sunday.
I don’t get anything back for almost a minute, then her ‘thumbs up’ emoji pops onto the screen.
It feels anticlimactic, but I put the phone down and go back to watching TV.
For some reason there’s a small thrill building in my chest at the thought of seeing the doc again…
but also a small dread at bringing her to meet the team.