Page 92 of Safety Net
"And actual practice time." Henrik looked up at the ceiling, trying to do the math in his head. "So, maybe, around thirty hours? Forty tops?"
"That's not even two days when you break it down like that," Sam said. "A commitment of two days isn't going to change someone's opinion. Especially not a guy like Anthony."
I scoffed. "Oh, come on. We all know no one breaks stuff down like that. I've been working for almost two weeks. That's commitment."
"It's progress, definitely," Henrik said quickly. "We're not trying to discount that."
"Sounds like you are," I said with a shrug that made me wince. Finn frowned with a look that told me to keep still.
"We're being realistic," Sam said.
"What's wrong with just starting this season without a personal trainer?" Finn asked. "You've done it before."
"This is different," I reminded him. "It's senior year. I want to get it right."
"You want to fix something you've messed up over the course of months in a matter of days," Sam corrected. "You want results right after you've made the decision. You're conflating instantaneous gratification with right."
"I'm sorry, I thought you guys were encouraging this?" I frowned. "Isn't that the whole reason you agreed to help me with training?"
"Of course, we're encouraging," Henrik said. "I think it's a good idea."
"We're just adjusting your expectations," Sam added.
"So, you got me an in with Anthony, but don't think I should use that in anymore?" I asked.
"Correct," Sam affirmed.
I blinked, surprised at how easily he answered. "Then why encourage me to do it at all?"
Sam sighed and exchanged a look with Henrik. I couldn't decipher what passed between them. Still, they reminded me of parents looking over their kid's head because the kid was too young and naïve to understand. My jaw clenched.
"Hey, I'm some kid you have to protect from the dangers of the world," I said. "Don't look at each other like you're trying to decide which one has to be the mean parent."
"Lincoln, we all know you work better with external motivation," Henrik said.
Sam nodded. "And an opportunity at a second chance is a pretty damn good motivator."
"But in reality…" Henrik shrugged.
"Anthony's not even glancing in your direction for another few months," Sam said. "Maybe not even until we're well into the season."
I scoffed. "What would be the point then? It'd all be over."
And then, I'd be back to square one: aimless in a sea of possibilities that never called to me like hockey did. I hated being this aware of a clock. It was almost as if I can hear the seconds ticking off, time slipping into a bottomless pit, never to recover.
"There's still plenty of point," Finn chimed in. "You'll be able to hone your skills."
"Just in time for me to never play again? Sure, sounds like an incredible use of my energy."
"You can't rush this, Lincoln," Sam said, tone clipped and annoyed. "You can't talk your way out of it. You can't cram all the work in the night before. This is your problem. You think once you decide something, the stars will align. That's never how life worked. Grow up."
My laugh was devoid of any humor. The pain in my joints suddenly can't hold a candle to the piercing headache nudging against my skull. I didn't mind a mirror; a hard truth staring back at me. I did mind when the truth had been held behind a door, waiting for the right moment to make its appearance and put me in my place.
"I would have loved to know all these opinions weeks ago. Because it feels like you guys dangled a carrot, knowing it would distract me. And that's fucking condescending."
"Lincoln!" Henrik called out when I got up from the couch and started out of the room.
"Leave it," Sam said. "Give him space. "
