Page 122 of The Hat Trick

I know everyone is noticing I’m being even more of a dick than usual, and on the ice I’m not any better. I’m not always called for the hits I make even though I fucking should, but I don’t care. I’ll play the game. I’ll spend the time I’m forced to in the box. I just don’t fucking care about what anyone has to say about it.

My phone starts ringing again, and I stare at the screen, knowing he’s in the mood to call me back-to-back. Reluctantly, I answer without saying a word.

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly not sure if I’m there. “Matthew?”

“Mhmm,” I mumble.

“Matthew, what the fuck?” he snaps.

“Going to need you to be more specific, Pops, I do a lot of stuff to piss you off.”

“Well maybe it’s time you fix that and start doing the opposite for once.”

I scoff, “Like what? Go to all the events you tell me to, impress all your bullshit work associates with being the star athlete? Oh wait, I fuckinghaveand it’s never good enough for you. It never will be.”

“Because youembarrass me!” He finally loses his temper, and I wish this was happening in person. I wish he had the guts to face me. “You may think you’ve been the star athlete, but you’re more known for your fighting and your off-ice activities. You think anyone likes you because of how youplay?Please, Matthew, you’re not stupid. I saw that article; you have to share women with your teammates now? You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you. I’m done with this. I’m done being your trophy son. I’m done doing anything for you. You have no idea what you’re talking about. You have no idea about anything in my life and that’s why you’re officially out of it. Don’t ever use my name for yourself ever again.”

I hang up the phone, not needing to hear anything else he’s going to say to me. I mean it, I’m officially done with that man. I throw my phone across the room, not giving a shit if it shatters. It’s not like I want to talk to anyone on it anymore.

The only person I looked forward to hearing from isn’t talking to me, and it’s likely she never will again.

* * *

We are halfwaythrough our road trip, and I know everyone is on edge. We’ve lost every single game so far. It’s a three-game losing streak and it feels like shit. We’re still in a good position for the playoffs, but it’s hard for a team not to be discouraged when it’s loss after loss.

Plus, I know why. Dumont, Collee, and I are playing like shit. Missing passes, missing shots, sloppy penalties. Then there’s me with not so sloppy penalties but spending the most time in the box.

We haven’t talked about Chandler. I don’t know if either of them has talked to her, but I sure haven’t. I do my best not to think about her, but I always fail. Especially since we’ve been on the road, and I end up in my hotel room alone. I struggle to sleep because I can’t stop thinking about her.

I know I need to stop; I’ve never had this happen to me before.Ever. No woman takes over my mind like she does. No one distracts me like she does.

No one has ever made me…love them like she does.

Fuck this shit. I need to stop pining over her and go back to my life before she walked into it. She didn’t even want me at first, she was already fucking Dumont and Collee anyway.

I shake all the thoughts of her away as I try to find sleep before we leave for the next city tomorrow. I don’t even know where we are going, I haven’t been keeping track. I don’t give a shit who the team is or what city we’re in. I’m going to play the same regardless.

The rest of the road trip goes by in a blur. I’m practically a robot. I function on instinct when it comes to the games, and I don’t even care. Luckily, we didn’t end the road trip on a losing streak. We did win one game.

Collee’s distracted, he barely talked to anyone and has been lacking his usual team leading motivational bullshit. I don’t know if it entirely has to do with Chandler, but also, I don’t even care.

Dumont has been mopey, too and neither have talked to me. Really, no one on the team has talked to me at all. Which is fine, I don’t want to talk to them anyway.

Coach said some shit about noticing all of us haven’t been as cohesive as a team, but we just won so he can fuck right off. This game is all I have left, and it’s my only focus so I won’t listen to anyone who claims I’m not doing what needs to be done when I’m on that ice.

My dad hasn’t tried to reach out to me since our last phone call. I hope it stays that way. I don’t want to deal with him to just be his show pony anymore. I don’t want to be that for anyone. Not even my team. Which is why I’ve been uncharacteristically dull in interviews hoping they will just let me get out of them, but no such luck. It’s probably unrealistic to think I could get out of them but doesn’t mean I won’t try.

I just don’t care about anything anymore.

42

We just got back from the road trip, so I do the one thing that is bound to make me feel even slightly better. I go over to my sister’s house. I’m greeted by two excited little girls and it’s the first time I’ve smiled in weeks. My entire life shifted when Chandler ended things with us and even though she said she was only asking for time it has felt like more than that since I haven’t heard from her.

I don’t think Collee or McQuaid have either, but honestly, I haven’t really talked to them. It’s like we are pretending each other doesn’t exist, even if there’s really no reason to. It’s impossible to forget about everything that has happened, and I don’t want to. But the pain it’s caused has sucked.

Josie and Alana beg me to join their tea party, but I need to talk to my sister first.

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