Page 5 of The Bro-code

He made my life hell.

Coach made bag skating feel like a walk in the fucking park, believe me.

Have you ever been in a toxic environment? That’s what my team became for me.

Nothing I did was ever right, everything that went wrong with the team in any capacity was always pinned on me. It got to the point that my only options were going to my NHL team early or transferring.

Asking to cut college short when the Heroes and I had an agreement was a dangerous move though.

No NHL team wants to sign a rookie who doesn’t get along with his coach. It doesn’t fucking matter if the coach had a chip on his shoulder the size of South Carolina, it looks bad.

It makes you look way more work than you’re worth.

So I looked at transfers and I lucked out when the coach of Star Cove College heard through a friend of a friend that I was looking for a fresh start.

Apparently he had just suspended his starting center for unsportsmanlike behavior and was looking for an alternative.

So here I am, headed to Star Cove California after attending summer training with the Heroes.

I wish I could have stayed, but Coach said one more year of collegiate hockey under my belt will have me ready for the actual team next year. No farm teams for me, but a NHL rookie season from the get go.

It was about time I got out of here anyway. People at school and in town made it pretty clear what they thought of me when the news of my transfer became public.

Admittedly, deciding not to go to California and not to play against my future team last April in the Frozen Four final didn’t buy me any favors with the locals. But I mean, come on. Would you skate for a team where the Coach hates you and gives you ice time only because you’re the best player on his roster? Would you play when the second you step on home ice the fans boo you and chant “Traitor” every time you touch the puck?

So, yeah.

I’ll be glad to forget South Carolina even exists.

I’m one year away from making my dream come true as a professional hockey player. All I need to do is go to Star Cove and to not screw things over.

And there’s only one fool proof way to make it through my senior year keeping my nose clean.

Avoid women at all costs. It isn’t going to be too hard since I don’t have time for a relationship anyway.

One woman I wasn’t even fucking almost screwed up my life, so this year? No bunnies, no hookups, no nothing.

My left hand and my fleshlight will be my best friends.

Armed with determination, I push the cart with my luggage toward the door marked “Departures” with one objective in mind.

I’m gonna find a comfortable spot to wait for my flight and spend the time eating a cinnamon roll and watching hockey tapes.

The cinnamon roll is a treat I always indulge in when I travel, but aside from that this year I’m gonna eat, sleep and breathe hockey.

I don’t even get to finish that thought when the lady at the check in desk smiles at me. “Here you go, Mr. Moore. Your seat is twenty-seven E and your luggage will be delivered directly to Star Cove. Have a nice flight?—”

Wait a minute…

“Twenty-seven E?” I fight the urge to raise my voice, but this is bullshit. “I booked a first class seat. I should be at the front. Besides, I’m six three, how am I supposed to sit in coach, in a middle seat? I’m not going to fit.”

The lady looks flustered and a part of me feels for her. Probably the part that doesn’t have to spend five hours in coach and crammed into a middle seat.

“Let me check, sir.” There’s the telltale click-click noise that denotes furious typing on her keyboard as she keeps a nervous smile plastered on her face. “I see what happened. The aircraft that was supposed to operate this sector is stuck in Seattle for maintenance and a different model has been destined to your flight. So the previous seat reservations have been?—”

Sure. But I’m still not sitting in twenty-seven fucking E. “I understand that. But surely the system must have taken into account that I booked a first class ticket?”

Her blush deepens. “You’re right, sir. I don’t know what happened. Especially because the first class section is almost empty. Not to worry, you now have one A and I’ll add fifty thousand miles to your frequent flier account as an apology for the inconvenience. Here’s your boarding pass, enjoy your flight.”

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