Page 34 of Facing Off
“This isour third meeting this week,” says Coach Forrester. “Have you taken any proper time off this month?”
I haven’t.
Not really.
“It’s the off-season,” he reminds me. “Son, you need to rest and recover.”
I will…when we come up with a proper game plan so the Vancouver Wings win again.
Until then, I can’t afford to relax.
From the outside, my limbs appear loose because I’m lounging on his office chair, but worry dries my throat. “Coach, I heard more rumors that the GM wants to make changes to the roster. Sooner rather than later. Tell me it isn’t true.”
Forrester pinches the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t have faith that we can pull it together.”
“So?” I lean forward, bracing my hands on the edge of his desk. “Aren’t you always telling us that the bonds between us matter? That we can make it work together?”
He grimaces. I’m throwing his words back at him. “For the record, you don’t have anything to worry about. Your contract is safe, if that’s your concern?—”
Once upon a time, itwouldhave been, for a lot of reasons. The house that I grew up in was loud, poor, and crowded. My mom kept believing in love, but never had any real luck with it. By the time I was eighteen, she was raising kids from three different marriages by herself.
Now I’d never trade being the only boy in a house full of sisters for anything, but back then I felt like an outcast who didn’t fit in. I couldn’t find my place in the middle of all that crowded noise until…
Hockey. It just clicked. It was all mine, and I didn’t want to lose it. I prioritized it over everything else in my life.
Shame burns the back of my neck as I push back what happened afterwards. I can’t remember the past and how selfish I used to be, because if I do, I’ll break apart. And then I’m useless to my team.
“This isn’t about my contract,” I tell Forrester. “Tell the franchise we need every player we have to win again.”
Forrester doesn’t look my way, shuffling papers. “You can’t protect everyone.”
“Give me a list of everyone they’re considering trading.”
He startles, glancing up. “That’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders, Adrian.”
I know.
It’s a suffocating amount of pressure.
I grin at him. “Coach, what happens when I’m put under pressure? We get results! Don’t you like results?”
That earns me a laugh, but Coach still hesitates.
I stare back at him, seemingly unfazed. “The list.”
Begrudgingly, Forrester pushes a folder across his desk toward me.
I open it and skim the contents. My heart jams up into my throat.There are more names than I thought there would be.
“The first one on the top…” I say.
“Eric Jung.”
“The rookie?”
“They’re talking about releasing his contract first.”
“That’s worse than trading him.”
