30. Zack
CHAPTER THIRTY
zack
“What the fuck was that?” Coach Beryl bites out through clenched teeth.
“Did someone shove all your heads up your asses before the game?” He paces the locker room looking like he’s going to explode.
He’s usually pretty calm as far as coaches go, but tonight was horrible, and he’s fired up. “Am I suddenly coaching ten-year-olds?
“It could have been worse,” Nate mumbles sarcastically. Clearly he has a death wish tonight.
“Want to say that louder, Casco?” Coach glares at him.
“Nope,” Nate says, really popping the P.
Yup, he’s asking to be reamed out. He’s probably kicking himself for letting in four goals, but our defense was weak, and he had to work twice as hard.
Marsh was acting extra Marshy tonight and got himself thrown from the game during the second period.
It started with the usual chirping between him and San Francisco’s center.
Then the asshole tripped Marsh and got himself a penalty.
Marsh got payback by illegally checking him into the boards early in the second period, earning himself some time in the penalty box.
Then neither of them could keep their mouths shut, and Marsh took it upon himself to leave the penalty box early and fight the guy.
Getting in the ref’s face really sealed the deal for him.
Having our star defenseman leave the game put us at a major disadvantage.
“And you!” Coach points at Marsh before throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t even have words for your behavior tonight.”
“Come on, Coach. He fucking deserved it,” Marsh argues.
“Not another fucking word,” Coach warns, with his eyes throwing daggers at Marsh.
“The season starts on Tuesday, and if you keep this up, we’ll never win a game.
Kiss the dream of the Stanley Cup goodbye!
” Coach turns to leave the locker room and yells over his shoulder, “Brent, come talk to me when you’re dressed! ”
Brent’s going to get an earful. It’s the reality of being captain. There’s nothing he could have done differently, but Coach expects him to help keep everyone in line. This was just a series of bad luck and bad decisions on Marsh’s part tonight.
“So, would now be a bad time to talk clubbing?” Bax asks. Nate drops a towel on his head and walks away. “I guess so,” Bax mumbles from below the fabric.
* * *
There’s a quick knock on our adjoining room door before Brent flings it open and strolls in with a six-pack of beer. Most of the team went out tonight, not that there was anything to celebrate. Despite Bax’s pleas, Nate, Brent, and I came back to the hotel.
Brent flops down next to me on my bed with a sigh before popping open a can. He takes a long sip before even making eye contact.
“That bad with Coach?” I ask, pulling a can off the pack and placing the rest on the bedside table.
“Marsh is gonna be on a short leash. The dude likes to fight, and that asshole did deserve it, but leaving the penalty box and screaming at the ref? Fuck!” He takes another sip of his beer. “And I’m sure he’ll be out all night again tonight.”
“At least there’s no game tomorrow.” We’re supposed to fly home tomorrow afternoon.
Now that Evvy’s there waiting for me, this feels like torture.
I love hockey, but now I understand why some of the other guys dread away series.
Traveling didn’t bother me so much before because I had no one to return home to.
“Where’s Josie? Thought you two would break curfew together.” Nate leans back against the headboard, resting his hands behind his head.
“She’s visiting an old friend that lives nearby. So it’s just us old married guys tonight.”
“Speak for yourself, bud. I might be fucking old…but married? Hah! And he’s not married either.” Nate gestures in my direction before reaching over and stealing one of the beers.
“He might as well be. Pined for thirteen years and now he’s down bad.”
“I’m right here!” I wave my hand in the air. “I can hear you.”
“He’s not wrong.” Nate shrugs. “You know she’s it for you.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” A big grin spreads across my face. I’m resisting the urge to text Evvy right now. With the time difference, she’d definitely be asleep. Finally reconnecting with her and then having her ripped away the next morning has been a complete mindfuck.
“Speaking of Evvy...” Nate fidgets with his beer can before taking a quick sip. “A photo of her leaked to the press.”
“Let me see it!”
Nate tosses me his phone. It’s a shot of Evvy standing between Marsh and Nate outside the restaurant in NYC. She looks beautiful, and I take a moment to admire it before remembering it was taken by the fucking paparazzi.
“I’m sorry, Zack, we didn't even see the cameras.”
“Not your fault,” I grumble as I scan the headline. Why choose? Why not? Maine Meteor’s New Mystery Girl. The accompanying article basically implies she’s dating either Marsh or Nate, or both.
Fuck the press. At least they haven’t figured out her name yet. As much as I want to shout from the rooftops that Evvy’s mine, she’s a private person, and I need to respect that. I owe her a conversation before she gets dragged further into this.
“There’s something else.” Nate’s eyes flick everywhere but at me.
“Spit it out!”
“Jeff texted me asking about the photo. He wanted to know if I was dating Evvy, and I obviously said no.”
Jeff, my college teammate and old roommate.
He and Nate met when Jeff played with us for a year in Canada.
I signed first, and Jeff joined the league a year later.
He was always like a brother to me, so it was exciting to have him and my new best friend together on the same team.
But they never hit it off, and he was traded to Boston after one season.
He’s developed a reputation in the league for being a complete asshole.
“Weird he wouldn’t text me first. He knows our history.” Jeff and I don't get to talk as often as before, but he’s one of those old friends you could go for months without speaking to, only to suddenly hear from him again.
Nate sits up straighter, looking at me before his eyes dart to his lap. “Well…” He crinkles the beer can.
“Well, what?”
“Then he asked if you were dating her. I said yes, because I assume you are?” He looks at me, waiting for confirmation.
“Yeah. And?” Nate takes way too long to tell these stories.
“He said something along the lines about her probably looking for money and that he thought he had dealt with the situation a long time ago.”
“What the actual fuck?” I leap to my feet. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I have no idea! Chill though. I’m on your side.”
My heart pounds as the rage inside me threatens to explode. If something smells bad it probably is. “The letters. Fuck!” My feet won’t stop moving. Bouncing around the room is the only way to contain this energy.
“Talk to us. What letters?” Brent asks quietly.
“When I first signed with the team, I had to report to Canada earlier than I was expecting. Evvy was away for a summer semester, and I didn’t get to see her before I left.
” Tears threaten to spill as this all starts to make sense.
“I wrote to her every day. The letters were sent to the team hockey house since she didn’t have a place on campus that summer.
She also didn’t have a cell phone so I bought one for her and left it so she could call me when she got back from her trip. I never heard from her again.”
My face feels hot and wet as the emotions spill out of me. I’ve always been an angry crier. I feel a hand on my shoulder as Brent pulls me in for a hug.
“I can’t imagine being separated from Josie for so long. I’m so sorry.” He holds me tight, grounding me.
“She thought I abandoned her. She thought I didn’t love her.
” Brent releases me, and I run my hands down my face.
“And I thought she gave up on me. We had plans to be together after she graduated. We were gonna work it out, but the timeline got pushed up and we didn’t get to talk about it before I left.
Evvy got back from her trip, and I was just gone. ”
I sink down onto the bed, facing Nate, and Brent joins me. “So, you think Jeff…” Brent trails off as he starts to put the pieces together.
“I never liked that fucker,” Nate scoffs. “I know he’s your friend, but he was always a pretentious fuckwad.”
My mind races as I replay the conversations I had with Jeff.
He told me Evvy didn’t want to talk to me, and I should give her space.
The phone I left for her always went straight to voicemail.
It was one of those prepaid ones that was popular at the time.
It probably never even got turned on. I kept sending letters until they started getting returned to me.
Even after that, I kept writing, but I had no address to send them to.
Jeff told me Evvy got an opportunity to do a semester on a boat, and she never came back to school after that. I had no clue where she went, and by that point, I thought she’d made it pretty clear she didn’t want to talk to me. Now I know she and her friend Bailey had moved to California.
Finding Jeff’s name in my contact list, I hit the dial button. My fingers shake, gripping the phone so tightly it might break.
“You realize it’s like two in the morning in Boston, right?” Nate asks.
“Don’t fucking care.” There’s no answer, and I dial over and over again until it starts going straight to voicemail. The asshole’s apparently too much of a coward to answer the phone, so I’ll do the next best thing.
Me: What the fuck did you do? Why? You saw how much it hurt me. And even worse, you fucking hurt Evvy. You better start talking.
Read
I stare at my phone for what feels like forever as I’m left on read. No replies, no dots showing he’s typing a reply. Nothing.
Fuck.