Page 123 of Unbreakable
Colt was an interesting guy. He had a contagious smile that, even as a straight dude I could admit, was very handsome. While he could be very jovial, he also had a serious side. All his jokes and kidding around aside, he took his role as captain seriously.
My name was called and while I smiled at the same barista, I clearly didn’t have the game I once did. “What the hell? You got a smile, a second look, and a sweet little ‘you’re welcome!’”
“You trying to pick up dudes in Buffalo?” Colton asked. “I didn’t peg you for a cheater, Pickles.”
“I’m not! I just like to know I’ve still got it. The world has moved on from me. Sucks.”
“Hard getting old, bud,” Colt said, patting my back as we headed for the door.
“I’m only four years older than you!” I objected. “When does the silver fox thing kick in?”
He grimaced, glancing at my hair. “When you stop being in denial and dyeing your hair shoe polish black to cover your grays.”
“Fuck off! I do not!” I argued, giving him a shove. “Alright, let’s talk captain shit. What’s going on?”
Colt groaned. “I don’t know how to whip everybody out of this funk. It’s like before we take the ice, we’re resigned to the other team being better than us, even if they’re not.”
“Do you want my advice, or are you going to tell me to fuck off?”
“No, I’m all ears. I feel like I’m fucking up the whole thing.”
I pushed the button at the walk light to cross the street. “You’re too fucking nice.”
“What do you mean?” he scoffed. “I did fine being semi-nice as college captain.”
“This ain’t Harvard?—”
“Alden,” he corrected me. “But go on.”
“Don’t immediately start making excuses. Fire ‘em up a little. If we suck, tell us we suck! If we’re fucking around, call it out. If you don’t do it, everyone takes it upon themselves to do it. That’s how you get everybody picking and falling apart. And—” I said, taking a sip of my iced coffee, “tell everybody to have fun. It’s a fucking game. We can win it if we act like it’s our game and they’re just playing it.”
He walked in step with me in silence, mulling it over.
“Right?” I barked.
“Right,” he responded, jumping to the side with a little fear in his eyes.
“Fuckin’ right?” I yelled louder, a pigeon taking flight at my voice.
“Fuckin’ right!” he yelled back.
“Let’s fuckin’ go!”
“Let’s! Fuckin’! Go!” Colt said, holding his throat from straining his voice.
“There ya go, bud,” I patted his back and rubbed his shoulders while we walked through the hotel’s sliding doors. “Let’s go work for it.”
With shaking hands,I dialed the second contact on my favorites list. I put this off, not wanting to ruin the holidays with a big change. I also wanted a little time to myself on the road to make sure this was what I wanted. Since I made my decision on Christmas night, I’d been sleeping poorly.
But that gave me my answer. I was making the right decision. I had to pull the plug.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Dylan, what a surprise!” Mom said through the phone. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this week.”
I sat in a hotel room in Buffalo, getting up from my pre-game nap. I tossed and turned until my alarm went off, too anxious about this conversation.
“I had a minute, and um, I wanted to talk to you.”
