Page 90 of Hockey 101

I beam at her. I can’t believe that I’m back.

I really appreciate the case you put together on my behalf. Professor Pullman took the file with him, so I’ll never get to read all the nice things that were written.

Jaz, who can apparently read minds, promises to send me copies of the letters of support. Then you can hold them over the heads of your reporters if they complain in the future. At least I won’t have to print them all out for you. She shakes her head at the technological ineptitude of professors.

Thanks again. For everything, I say warmly. Obviously, the wave of public support was the impetus, but Bryce might have succeeded in making it disappear if not for Jaz’s intervention.

She shrugs. While I appreciate your return, please don’t mistake this for favouritism. Bryce was extremely difficult to work with, and his actions were damaging the Messenger. Yours was the most blatant case of mismanagement and therefore the most convincing for my purposes.

Whoosh. The real Jaz has landed, and she’s ruthless. She pins me with a hard stare. We both know that your relationship with Jack Sinclair could lead to a conflict of interest, and I want your guarantee that you will come to me if anything, no matter how mundane, presents itself.

While her words are harsh, her honesty is refreshing. Dealing with someone who can be open with praise and criticism is exactly what I want after all I’ve endured.

Of course. Now that Bryce is gone, I can spend more time at the Messenger office. It will make it easier to run things by you casually.

Fine. But don’t expect any hand-holding. You’ve already been doing a good job on your own. She stands to leave, then pauses. You have excellent journalistic instincts. When Bryce was elected as EIC, he seemed like the right candidate. But now I’m wondering if his apparent competence was due to your influence.

I’m surprised by this insight. Yes, I helped to brainstorm ideas for the Messenger, but that was a team effort—I didn’t get any credit for his editorial vision. But I’d forgotten how he used to vent to me first, and we’d figure out solutions together. Would he have been a better manager if we had stayed together?

You may be right, I say slowly.

You should have been EIC. Why didn’t you run? Did Bryce discourage you?

No, I did consider it. But, as you know, it’s so much work. I like to have time for other activities. I enjoy feeling on top of my schoolwork and extracurriculars, rather than stressed out by too many deadlines.

Jaz snorts. Sure. Fucking hot hockey players is a tough job, but someone has to do it.

And she’s gone before I can even laugh in response. I lean back in my chair, taking a moment to digest everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. I should be elated that I’ve been vindicated and got my editor position back. But I’m not, and that’s because of the Jack-shaped hole in my life.

First, Emily and Dawn are right. Bryce has done a bunch of horrible things to me, and I’ve dealt with every single one. I’m strong enough to withstand turmoil in my life.

Second, was I the key to Bryce’s success? Did he need a tempering force to be a successful editor-in-chief? For all his claims of intellectual superiority, he turned out to be an overly emotional leader.

This revelation sets off other ones—the most important being that my relationship with Jack is part of who I am. Like my RA work, I offer advice. I enjoy helping other people solve their problems. That doesn’t make me Jack’s bossy mom—I’m his partner. Yes, I support him, but he supports me too. He cheers on my accomplishments, he reads everything I write, and he looks after me when I’m down.

It’s simple: all I have to do is allow myself to trust someone who has never let me down. Besides, even if something does go wrong, I’ll survive. Look at the way I’ve handled Bryce.

I haven’t been truly happy since Jack walked out of my room.

But I can be. All I have to do is ask.

23

THE GOOD GUYS ARE WINNING

JACK

GOOD GAME, GUYS, Coach Norman calls out as we file off the bench and head towards the dressing room after a 4-3 win over the Wisconsin River Otters. I’ve been looking forward to the Walleye Tournament. For once, we’re on an actual road trip this weekend, with hotels and everything. Lots of team bonding time.

Coach Ferris pulls me aside in the hall. Our defensive coach has a big smile as he claps me on the shoulder. Sinc, that was your best game this year. You’ve earned yourself a promotion for tomorrow night’s game.

Thanks, Coach. I grin back, then wonder if he means what I think he means. I’ve already worked my way up to the second defence pairing, so…there’s only one spot above that. If I’m in the top pair, I’ll get to play with Coty. Not only will I get more ice time, but we’re a great team. We read off each other well—he covers me when I jump up into the offence, and vice versa.

Of course, what I want to do right now is call Andy and tell her. But I’m supposed to be giving her space and not bothering her with every tiny milestone in my life. I don’t regret standing up for myself, but I’m worried about Andy. She looked so lost this afternoon.

In the dressing room I pass by O.D., and he starts jawing about talentless rookies getting unearned minutes. I’m tempted to let it go, but after I bulldozed poor Andy, why should I let this asshole off the hook?

I stop in front of him. If you’ve got an issue, why don’t you say it to my face instead of bitching behind my back?

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