Page 95 of Forever Wild
Bridget
Maybe to tell him that you miss him and he’s a big, stubborn fool.
Me
It won’t change anything. He doesn’t want to be with me.
Bridget
I don’t know. He seemssort of lost lately.
I want to believe that has something to do with me, but if it’s true, then why hasn’t he texted? He didn’t want to be with me and that hasn’t changed.
Me
All the guys are lost in the off-season. He’ll be fine now that hockey is back.
Bridget
Do you really believe that?
Me
I do. The team is everything to him.
They’re all he needs.
28
CHOICES
JACK
The night before our home opener, I head to my old high school.
I park behind the hockey arena and go in the back door. As soon as I step inside, I’m overwhelmed with memories. I only played here for two years before I left to play in the junior league, but there’s something about this place that always feels like home.
I find Coach exactly where I expect. He’s sitting on the top row of the bleachers just underneath the announcer’s box. Both arms are crossed over his chest and he leans back watching the players on the ice practice.
I take a seat next to him, letting my gaze take in the action.
“How are they looking?” I ask.
“Like they spent all summer at the beach instead of with a hockey stick in their hands,” he says, finally looking over at me.
A small chuckle escapes my lips. “I think you said that same thing to me once.”
“It was true.” He holds my gaze. “You look tired. What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be home getting your beauty sleep?”
I resist rolling my eyes, but I break his stare so he can’t study me too closely. “I’m good. Ready.”
Coach makes a clicking noise with his tongue. It’s a sound I’m familiar with from the years of him being my coach and looking out for me. I don’t know what I would have done without him. He coached my junior high team and then got moved up to high school the same time I did. I always wondered about that, if part of the reason he did it was to keep an eye on me. He was a hell of a coach though. A lot of people thought he should have gone on to college or junior league, but he never did.
“I’m glad you’re back on the ice. I’m proud of you, always. You work harder than anyone I ever coached. Most talented, too,” Coach says without tearing his gaze off the practice.
His compliments soothe and encourage me. I didn’t have a functioning dad for most of my life, but Coach filled that role in a lot of ways. I’m not sure if it was out of loyalty for my dad or me, but he’s always been there when I needed him. And I needed him a lot back then.
“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?” I ask. “There are no beach days on my schedule. Promise,” I joke.
