Page 77 of Sidelined Love

“Off your game?” he snorts. “You're damn right you were off your game! That was a piss-poor performance. What's wrong with you? You've been playing like shit.”

His words feel like a slap in the face as his criticism slices me in the heart. It hurts even more so because hockey is so much a part of my identity and my father's approval means everything, even though his love feels conditional.

“Things have been… rough lately,” I admit.

“Rough?” He shakes his head, dismissing my response. “Do you think anyone gives a damn about your problems off the ice? Get your head straight and leave whatever is happening to you off the ice. I didn't raise a quitter.”

I flinch at his words. The truth is, I don't know how to get my head straight these days. Between my father's expectations, my trying to figure out things with Hailey, and the pressure I put on myself, I feel stretched thin, like I might flip out at any moment. But I know better than to talk back or make excuses.

I clench my jaw and stare at the ground, telling myself I shouldn't respond. Arguing will only make things worse.

“Are you even listening to me?” my dad asks. More like demands, if I'm being honest.

“Yes sir,” I mutter, avoiding his gaze. “I hear you and it won't happen again.”

“See that it doesn't.” He waits a beat before he turns and walks away, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Of course he doesn't. It would be too much like doing the right thing and having compassion for the only child he has left.

I readjust my duffel before shoving my hands into my pockets and leaving the arena.

I start the walk back to the bus, replaying the game in my head. Each missed shot, each fuckup—it's all there inexcruciating detail. All I want to do is get back to my apartment so I can be alone to lick my wounds. The only thing I can think of that can possibly help me feel better is Hailey, but I also don't want her to see me in this state.

Lost in thought, I barely notice when Asher catches up to me halfway to the bus.

“Hey,” he says as he falls into step beside me. “You gonna talk about it or are we gonna pretend everything's fine?”

I give a halfhearted shrug but don’t say anything.

Asher's silence is needed. He doesn't push like others might; he waits because he knows eventually, I'll crack.

Finally, I let out a long sigh. “Tonight was a shit show,” I confess without looking at him.

“But it happens. We'll kick ass and win our next game.”

I glance at him out of the side of my eye. “I know you're trying to be cheerful to help me feel better, but you feel as shitty as I do after that game.”

“But as Coach likes to tell us, one game doesn't define us.”

I shake my head, understanding what he is doing but also not believing him. “Easy for you to say. You didn't play the worst game of your career and didn't have your father waiting for you after the game so that he could tell you how much of a disappointment you are.”

“I know this is easier said than done, but fuck what your father thinks of you. You know we've all had those games where we can't seem to do anything right. Doesn't change the fact that you're a damn good captain.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Thanks, Ash.” I run a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration about this week's events clinging to me like a second skin. “It feels like I'm carrying around this… I dunno, this expectation that I should always be at the top of everything for who knows how long, and some days it all tumbles down.”

“That's because you usually are, man. But you're human, and it's okay to have off days. Besides,” he adds with a lopsided grin, “there's more to life than hockey, although it's hard for us to remember that at times.”

We arrive at the bus, and I turn to look at him. “What, like classes? Had a hell of a week with them as is. I'm also trying to not fuck up things with a girl who deserves someone with less baggage.”

“Since you brought her up, how are things going with Hailey?”

“It’s… complicated and I know that is shocking,” I say sarcastically.

“What isn't complicated at this point?” Asher asks as we slowly walk onto the bus.

“Touché.” I finally give in to a small smile. “She’s amazing, man. Different from anyone I’ve ever met.”

“That’s a good thing?”

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