Page 45 of Power Play

“Hey, uh... coach?”

“Yeah, Daniels?” I ask, glancing up from the clipboard that has the teams on it for drills.

Max stares up at the ceiling like he’s looking for an answer written up there. “Is everything alright?” He finally asks.

“Yeah? What do you mean?”

“You just don’t seem yourself... you are kind of—”

“He’s trying to tell you that you’re being a fucking prick,” a voice I know all too well cuts Max off.

Turning to face the voice, I find Trevor standing there with his signature smile, trying not to laugh at the shocked look on Max’s face.

“Coach, that is not what I meant. I could just tell something is... off,” Max says as he turns around and glares at Trevor. Trevor just laughs.

These two are annoying and remind me why I don’t go out and interact with people often.

Doing my best to hide my annoyance from Max, I sigh. He’s right... well, I guess Trevor’s right. But I’ll be damned if I tell him that. I am in a shitty mood, and I’m probably being an asshole, but that doesn’t change the fact that they need the practice. I could be less of a dick about it, though. “It’s all good Max. This here,” I gesture towards Trevor who still thinks this is funny. “Is Trevor. He’s Bernard’s son and unfortunately, my best friend. Apparently, that gives him the delusion that he can talk shit no matter where we are.”

“It most certainly does. About time you caught up. Besides, I wouldn’t call it talking shit. I’m merely pointing out the obvious and enjoying calling you out on your shit.” He retorts before turning to shake Max’s hand. “I’m Trevor. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Max Daniels. Likewise, man,” Max says, seeming uneasy about this whole situation.

“Look, man, you’re probably right. I’m being a dick today, well more so than usual. I get it. I’ve got a lot of shit going on, and I guess I let it get in my head,” I say, trying to sound apologetic.

“Not a problem. I just wanted to make sure you were good. We can take it, and if they can’t they need to figure that shit out now,” Max responds.

“Thanks,” I tell him, I’m impressed he stood up to me, but I’m not going to tell him that. Show’s good leadership on his part.

“It’s woman problems,” Trevor pipes in, his fucking happy grin so bright that I’m daydreaming about punching the fucker right here.

“The fucking worst,” Max groans. “Girl’s suck.”

“They’re both the problem and the solution, Max,” Trevor winks, unable to act mature even here.

“Shut the fuck up, Trevor. We’re not having this conversation,” I groan.

“Why not? Maybe you need to hear someone else tell you you’re being ridiculous and it’s affecting you outside of your personal life. Besides, I’m just saying, kicking a girl out after a hookup is brutal shit, man. I thought you might’ve actually liked her too.”

God damn. Out of anyone he could talk about this in front of, it had to be Sawyer’s fucking brother.

“Damn, that is fucking brutal, man,” Max exclaims.

Rubbing my brows, I find it hard not to agree with Max. Kicking her out wasn’t fun. “Yeah, not exactly my finest moment. But, again, we’re not talking about this. This is practice, not an afternoon gossip session, Trevor. Max, thanks for calling me on my shit. I respect that. Go get the team started on small area games with the same teams as last time. I’ll be over in five,” I tell him, nodding toward the ice.

With a quick nod, Max skates off, leaving me with Trevor.

“What the fuck, man?” I bark at Trevor.

“What do you mean?” he asks, clueless.

“Max is Sawyer’s brother you fucking idiot. Which is why I didn’t want you to bring up my ‘woman problems’ or whatever bullshit you’d call this,” I snap, rubbing my hand down my face.

“Fuck,” Trevor mumbles, realization finally sinking in.

Trevor is literally the polar opposite of me, which might be why we’ve been best friends since we were five. While I’m known for being a dick with a piss-poor attitude and apparently sporting a constant frown, Trevor is all smiles and happiness, to everyone. All. The. Time. Except now. Right now, he looks apologetic and a little disheartened, which is confusing.

“Yeah, basically. Why do you look like I just pissed in your Wheaties?” I ask.

---