Page 106 of For the Win

Shit.This isn’t good.

I drag myself into my bathroom where I down a couple of Advil with a big glass of water.I brush my teeth and wash my face, and then I go back to bed for a couple more hours.

Things are tense.We have to win the game tonight or we’re out of the playoffs.People are saying we should be happy we made the playoffs after a drought so long, but there’s no way that we’re happy.We made the playoffs and we want to go all the way.We’re competitive, professional athletes.We’re not giving up.

Except I’m not feeling it.I’m dragging my ass on the ice, shooting half-heartedly and missing the net.

“What crawled up your ass?”Bellsy says tightly, skating up close enough so that only I can hear.“Get your shit together, man.”

“What?”I glare at him.“I’m good.”

“You’re not good, you’re skating like you’ve got a piano tied to your ass.Are you hurt?”

I snort.Hurt?All I can think of is some psycho attacking Arya with a knife, cutting her.I want to puke over the side of the boards.

Bellsy stares.“What?”

I roll my eyes.“Later.Come on, let’s go.”

We join the drill.

Yeah, this isn’t a good time to be having a breakdown.Bellsy’s right.I need to get my shit together.

I try to focus when we’re talking about our penalty kill.And what we need to do to beat Vancouver.

“Okay,” Coach says, pointing at the whiteboard.“The attacking defenseman on this side is gonna try to pinch in, but if the puck gets chipped out, the defending forward in the hash marks is now up higher, and suddenly he’s racing the defenseman who has to retreat, which could lead to a shorthanded breakaway.”

I usually have a lot to say in meetings.Today, not so much.I don’t care.

Then I see Dad sitting in the stands, watching.

Ihaveto care.I can’t be like this.What happened to my determination to achieve my goal, never mind the team’s goals?I don’t have time to waste—we might have one game left.Dad is dying and losing his memory.I need to make him proud of meright now.

I’m terrified that I can’t do that.I screwed up everything with Arya and I’m going to screw up this too.I’ve never measured up to my father and I never will.The thought that I’m letting him down when he’s at his most vulnerable makes me burn with frustration.My chest tightens and my throat closes up.Pressure squeezes me from all sides, and I almost can’t breathe.I don’t even want to play tonight.

* * *

“It lookedlike you didn’t even want to be there.”

I feel like shit.I’m sitting in Dad’s office, and Mom is here too, like she is so often now.

We won the game last night, but it sure as hell wasn’t because of me.

I don’t reply to Mom’s comment.It’s true, but I don’t want to admit that.

She knows, though.She’s been a hockey mom long enough that she knows when her kids aren’t playing well and don’t even want to be on the ice.

I hitch one shoulder and attempt a smile.“I made some mistakes.I’ll work on them.”

“What’s wrong?”she asks, her voice gentle but strong.

I lift my head and meet her eyes, my jaw slackening.“What’s wrong?”

Her shoulders slump and she tips her head back briefly.“Okay, yes, I know things aren’t great, but you can’t let this impact your play.”She lowers her chin and again holds my stare.“Is there something else going on?”

Again, I don’t answer.I rub the back of my neck and shift my focus to Dad who’s listening, frowning.

“What’s her name?”he barks, out of the blue.

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