Page 74 of Penalty Box
We lined up. Coach tossed pucks from the blue line, calling for one-timers. I nailed the first two although they were far from clean. Hallie would call them gritty. I was just happy something went in. The happiness didn’t last, because when I wound up forthe third, the blinding pain took over. My shot went wide and bounced off the boards with a dullthunk.
“Get off,” Coach’s voice rang out. Like he was just waiting for this moment.
I pulled off my helmet. “What? That was one shot. I—”
“Off my ice. Now.”
“I can keep going, Coach,” I said, feeling the team’s attention zeroed in on me. “Let me take that last one again.”
“Sure, keep going,” he said sternly. “And I’ll show you how I keep you on the bench until the next two games are over.”
The warning cracked like a whip.
“Coach—”
“You’re heading for wood, Calder. Sit down!”
The whole rink went silent. Even the sound of sticks tapping on the ice stopped. I clenched my jaw and skated toward the boards without another word. This time, nobody looked at me. Probably sensing the foul mood Coach was in, and wanting to avoid the same punishment.
I grabbed the water bottle from my gym bag just to hide the fact that I was sulking. I’d never hear the end of it if they noticed. That’s when my phone buzzed. We weren’t supposed to have our shit out here, so I kept it low where Coach couldn’t see.
Cass: Proposal: I’ll run your drills if you come down here and fix the gears on the vending machine.
I didn’t really register what she’d said, fingers frantic over the keypad.
Me: I think he knows.
Three dots, then nothing. No response.
I stared at my phone until the screen dimmed. Those three dots never came back.
I looked up and caught Coach staring at me. I took a long sip from my water bottle to hide the movement of me dropping my phone back in my bag. The buzz I wanted didn’t come, no matter how hard I trained my ears for it.
Shit.
Maybe it was paranoia. Coach could’ve been riding me this hard because he was depending on me to pull through for the team. Playoffs were around the corner, after all.
But maybe I wasn’t just being paranoid.
He’d told me to keep my hands off his daughter, and if the rumors had reached him—he was the man with all the power. He could bench me. Freeze me out of the game for good. He could single-handedly blow up everything I’d worked for.
The locker room was dead quiet after practice.
Skates clattered against tile, but that was it. Nobody said a word. They kept their heads down, focused on unlacing gear, packing up, getting out.
I peeled off my pads, arms burning from the effort. Sweat soaked through my shirt, and my shoulder throbbed like it had its own pulse.
Grayson slammed his helmet into his locker so hard the sound cracked through the silence.
“You done?” he barked.
I glared at him. “If you have something to say to me, just say it.”
“I want you to wake the fuck up, man,” he scoffed. “You think this shit just works itself out? You think you can half-ass your way to staying power?”
“I didn’t—”
“Do you know how many guys dream of getting drafted?” Even though Grayson was lecturing me, everyone in the room watched him. “Do you have any idea how many of them never even get close? They train their whole damn lives and still come up short.”
