Page 1 of Frenemies with a Player
CHAPTER ONE
Wyatt
I’m packingup my bag in the locker room after a brutal practice. Christmas break is finally here and I am looking forward to some downtime.
“James, come by my office before you head out,” Coach Darren says as he walks by my locker.
“Sure thing.” I nod.
A ruckus of oohs and ahhs breaks out in the locker room amongst the guys. The thing is, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. I think it has more to do with my future. Everyone who is a senior on the Westfall U hockey team pretty much knows which team they will draft to next year and if they don’t know, they are in several negotiations. Being a senior means it’s our last year on the team. Talks of contracts have been ongoing the last couple of months, but not for me. As a goalie I am less in demand, even if I am doing a bang-up job. Knowing all the talk is going on around me and I’m excluded has my morale feeling low.
“Where you headed for the holiday?” Easton asks.
“Home to Ottawa to help my parents around the house. My dad has a list of chores for me,” I reply dryly.
“Shit, sounds boring.” Easton chuckles as he takes his duffel bag and swings it over his shoulder.
“Tell me about it,” I say. When I was growing up, my parents would head to Grams’s cottage along the Quebec-Ontario border. It was on a lake and the view was spectacular. She had snowmobiles and a firepit. We would make smores and hang with other kids who came to visit their grandparents, but the most fun we had was when we spent our summer vacations up there on the lake. My sister and I would have a blast. When Grams passed, she left the cottage to Mom, but Mom couldn’t bring herself to go back there.
“I’m probably going to get some skiing in over break,” Easton says, which makes sense since he’s from Colorado.
“Sounds a lot better than fixing up my parents’ aging house,” I sigh.
I take my duffel and lift it on my shoulder.
“Well, peace, bro. Have a good holiday,” Easton says. We fist bump each other and Easton heads out while I head over to Coach’s office.
I walk up to Coach’s door and give it a little knock. “Hey, Coach.”
“Come in. Take a seat.” Coach Darren waves me in and I place my duffel on the floor and take a seat and wait. “I just wanted to check in with you. It’s important you keep up some training over break and do your daily stretches. You need to take care of yourself,” Coach advises.
“That’s the plan, Coach. I don’t have much else to do so I’ll keep up with all my stretches and exercises,” I assure.
Coach Darren brings his two hands together, allowing the tips of his fingers to touch. “I know you’re worried about next year, but I really do believe you’re going to be fine.”
“I don’t know, Coach. I’ve been working my ass off, but you know the stats. Each team only needs two goalies.”
“You can still make it,” Coach Darren encourages, “with hard work.” Really what I am hearing is I will probably be taken to one of the farm teams, for a couple of years, before I will be called up to the NHL, or maybe it’sifI will be called up.
“I’m not too hopeful, Coach. I’ve worked my ass off to get to this point. I was hoping I’d be able to help my parents financially. They’re both retired but money is tight.”
“I hear that. I was in a similar situation when I was about your age,” he says. Coach Darren played in the NHL but not for long. Him sympathizing with me isn’t helping. “Look, I think it’s important to be the best you can. Don’t get too far in your head because the negativity will just drag you down. Do you have any special plans over break?”
“Yeah, fixing things around my parents’ house,” I snicker.
His lips turn upside down. “I’ve been to Ottawa. It’s a beautiful place. Do you have some friends back home still?”
I’m starting to get the feeling Coach is worried about my well-being. “Coach, I’ll be all right.”
“I know. You have yourself a merry Christmas. I’m expecting big things for our team when we get back from break.”
“Me too,” I confirm. The Westfall U team is considered one of the stronger teams in the NCAA hockey league. We have a strong record of winning the Frozen Four. If I can show my worth at the Frozen Four, then maybe I’ll have a chance at the NHL during the draft. “Merry Christmas to you.”
With that I take my duffel and head out. I stop by my house to pick up my suitcase, and make some arrangements, before getting on a bus to Boston since I need to fly out of Logan International. When I arrive to the airport, I realize my flight is delayed because of the weather. I head to the food court and grab a hamburger and fries.
My mom’s name pops up on my screen. “Hey, Ma,” I say into the phone.
“You didn’t message you were taking off. I got worried,” she explains.
