Page 75 of Married As Puck
“Thanks for the encouragement,” I reply, flexing my arm muscle and bouncing on both feet to test my stamina. I have been experiencing multiple waves of dizziness since the accident, and this is the longest I’ve been on my feet since then. My mind says I can make it to the game, but I’m mad at my body for kicking against that and weighing us both down. That’s why I’m out here today. I need to prove my body wrong.
Keith exhales and places a hand on my shoulder. “You know I have your best interest at heart, right?”
I muster a smile. “When have I ever doubted that?”
He chuckles and we head to the rink together.
“Ready?” Keith nudges me with his stick, a small smile on his face. His eyes flicker, a quick check to see if I’m steady.
“Yeah,” I lie, tugging the helmet on and fastening the strap. “Ready.”
I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. We step onto the ice, and I push myself forward with much effort. The coach barks orders and I’m not sure if it’s that or the sound of our sticks hitting the puck that makes me wince.
Every sound suddenly feels more amplified as I dart across the ice. My eyes tear up in that same instant. What’s happening to me? I ask myself but there’s no time to process the thought further as the coach barks an instruction at me. I grit my teeth and push forward. My legs feel heavier and I struggle to maintain my balance. I skate too wide on the corners, catching myself before I stumble. Nobody says anything but I notice the looks.
‘You’ll never be back in shape before the game,’ a nasty voice says in my head.
I groan.
After the warm-up laps come the drills. It’s basically passing and chasing. The puck smacks my stick, I send it forward, but the timing’s too slow. West catches it anyway, shooting me a look that says I’ve got you, but it hurts. I can do better than this so why am I fumbling like a rookie?
“Eyes up, Gray!” Coach’s voice reaches my ears from across the rink. “You look like you’re half-asleep out there!”
I grit my jaw and shove harder into the ice. My lungs burn, my head pounding with each stride.‘You should have just sat your ass home.’ I ignore the voice even though it might be right.
Scrimmage starts and this is where the fear really eats at me. Bodies crash into the boards and sticks clash. The puck flies bymy line of vision in a blur. My chest tightens as players barrel past me, their shoulders brushing mine. Every hit sounds like it’s right inside my head. I freeze in the corner for a second, long enough for someone else to scoop it and dash down the rink.
What’s going on with me? Damn!
Coach blows the whistle at a dangerous length that I know means only one thing––he’s not letting that slide.
“Gray!” He’s glaring now with his jaw clenched. “What the hell was that? You had the lane wide open!”
I open my mouth, but no excuse comes out.
“Get your head in the game or get off the ice!” He barks, a furious finger wagging in my direction.
I want to yell back and tell him that I’m trying my best out here but instead, I force myself back into position, my chest tightening with fury.
The puck comes again and instinctively, I chase it down. My stick swings, ready for the shot and then a shadow comes from the side. I sense that whoever it is will crash into me if I don’t move faster.
I blink and it feels like it was only in my imagination. It’s too late now though, the puck has slipped off my stick. My vision blurs for a second before taking shape.
The whistle shrieks.
“Enough, Gray!” Coach points to the bench. “Sit. Now.”
I don’t argue because I need to take a breather before my lungs collapse. My legs carry me off the ice. I drop onto the bench with the helmet in my hands and rest my head in my palms. I sit there and rethink my choice of coming out today. Keith’s worriedexpression in the locker room earlier flashes through my mind. I shake my head, pushing away the image.
“The team needs me. I can’t be anywhere else but here,” I say aloud to convince myself.
He calls me to join them later, but I don’t fare any better, at least by my standards. A few of my teammates pay me on the back encouragingly and I merely nod.
I feel eyes on me as I’m drinking water. I look up and catch Jack’s eye. He’s smirking and has the guts to throw a mock salute at me. I clench my fists and move towards him to find out what all that is about. I want to confront him so badly about the accident, but I’ll leave that for later. First, this.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Keith asks, walking right into my path.
“I have to deal with him, Keith. He can’t get away with everything every time.”
