Page 8 of Slap Shot Scandal
Never satisfied.
So why the hell am I still trying?
Staring at the litany of messages, I debate how to respond. He’s going to hear about the contract soon—it’s best if the news comes from me. But I don’t have a phone call in me right now, every bone in my body aching from exhaustion.
I tap out a text.
Harbor: Thanks for the interview offer, but I took the job
Harbor: Huge contract with benefits. Best deal I’ve landed
Holding my breath, I watch the swirling dots as my dad types his response. Nausea rolls over me and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I should be excited, happy, celebrating the win. Instead, I’m sitting here sweating, my stomach in knots.
Dad: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?
Dad: I told you not to sign anything
Dad: I’ll call my lawyer. We can get you out of this
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Harbor: No, Dad. This is happening and it’s going to be great
Harbor: I’m going to make this team into the next big thing
Dad: Right, Harbor. And hell’s freezing over tomorrow
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. God, why is he always such a dick? I should cut him off, but my mother would never forgive me. Not to mention my sister.
No, I won’t cut him off.
I’ll do better than that.
I’m going to prove him wrong.
The Coastal Crushers are going to be big. Huge. The next great US hockey team. They’ll win the championship. And when they do, whenImake it happen, he can finally shut the hell up and let me live my life.
CHAPTER 3
WESTON
Atension headache’s dogged me all damn day. The persistent throbbing started the second the bubbly PR consultant—with the too-bright smile and unshakable confidence—began dismantling everything I knew about my team’s future at the emergency meeting. Try as I might, I can’t shake the dull ache behind my eyes, or the knot of anxiety tightening in my gut.
I’ve cycled through all the usual methods—hit the team gym for a workout, then the sauna. Refueled at the juice bar, but the kale and pineapple smoothie did nothing to calm my stomach. I visited the trainer for a massage.
Pound, pound, pound.
Headache still fucking there.
I went to the meditation room and sat in the dark.
My worst idea yet because sitting in the quiet room alone, my mind flew straight to the scandal.
I can’t believe Coach would do this to us.
To me.
Clips from the season ran through my head, a highlight reel of Coach Evans with the team.
