Page 39 of Game Misconduct

Chapter Four

December

Mike tried not to think about it too much, but it wasn’t fucking easy. He kept working on the drills, running through them like Danny had said. Sometimes he’d skate with Bee, who somehow had the energy to keep up with him despite posting more minutes per game than almost anyone except for Reed and Mäkelä, and sometimes he’d do it on his own. It was exhausting, how much he was working, and he was a wreck at the end of every day, sleeping like the goddamn dead, consistently starving because he was burning so many calories. He force-fed himself more protein shakes in addition to the insane amount of food he already put away.

After that last conversation he stopped trying to update Danny on his progress. Maybe he was still watching Mike’s games, seeing the improvement there. Maybe not.

Toward the end of November, before Thanksgiving, he actually bought a car so he could get to the rink and back more easily instead of just bumming rides from Mäkelä or Singer. He got to know the rink workers, who were kind of confused by how often he was there. Usually players didn’t skate as much as he did now, because they tried to conserve their energy for the games. Eventually they got used to his presence and even started joking around with him if he missed a day here or there, that they were gonna let Coach know.

Mike had just looked at them and said,not funny.

Coach eventually pulled him aside after a morning skate. “I hear you’ve been at the rink.”

Mike wasn’t sure where this was going, so he just nodded.

Coach stared back at him like he was waiting for him to crack and explain. But that wasn’t going to happen, because both Mike’s father and mother were teachers, high school and college, respectively. He was extremely used to being stared down disapprovingly. He usually won because the staring contests required you to give a shit about what the other person thought about you, or at least, to know there was some kind of immediate consequence if you didn’t start talking like, right then.

Coach was giving it a good try, but he was no Dr. Sylvia Sato, who didn’t even need consequences. As much as Mike hated to admit it, he had always cared what she thought. Coach might’ve held the keys to his professional future, but he was a distant second to Mike’s mom.

Finally, Coach said, “You want to tell me why, son?”

Mike shrugged. He didn’t, really. He felt like he was fifteen again, anxious and resentful and fighting anything he could get his fists against. But no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t punch your coach, the same way you couldn’tmakeyour parents proud of you. He said, “Extra practice.”

“You’re not getting enough practiceatpractice?”

“Not really.”

“You wanted to say something to me about that, then?”

Mike weighed his thoughts and his words. He was really fucking tired. He didn’t want to say anything that would fuck up his spot on the team, which was why he hadn’t said anything before. He hadn’t talked to Danny in a week, and he was thinking about how Danny had sounded on the phone the last time they spoke. Completely checked out and drunk and empty and that maybe something Mike had said had made him feel like that. He shouldn’t say anything that would fuck up his place on the team.

What came out of his mouth was, “Why would I? You don’t think I can do it anyway.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t think I’m worth the extra practice.” As he was saying it, he could feel the pit of his stomach drop out, but he couldn’t stop the words once they’d started. This was always how shit went with him when he let his feelings get the better of him. This was why it was better not to have them. “I mean. It’s cool. I get it. You picked me up because you needed a guy who’d drop ’em. That’s me. I fight. I’m a warm body on the blue line. You wanted to be hard to play against. But I’m not worth the extra time. Not like Bee or Reed are worth it.”

“Son, I—”

“Come on,” Mike said. He was really tired. “I’m not yourson, Coach. I know why I’m here. I just thought maybe if I worked hard enough, I could be better. But I didn’t think you’d listen.”

Coach stared at him like he’d never heard Mike speak before. It wasn’t like he talked a lot at practices or during pre-skates or anything. It wasn’t like he had anything anyone wanted to hear. So it wasn’t surprising. Finally, Coach said, “You should have brought your concerns to me. I would have listened.”

Mike stared back at him. “Okay.”

“If what the rink personnel tell me is the case, you’re doing too much. From now on you can work with Smithy if you feel like you need extra work.”

“Okay,” Mike said, already running through the rinks he knew of in Philly, some of them run by parks and rec, most of them open to the public. It wouldn’t be the best option for what he wanted to do because he wouldn’t get any ice time to himself, but if he had to make it work, he’d make it fucking work.

“And youwill notdo more on your own,” Coach said severely.

“Sure,” Mike agreed, because he had no problem lying.

Coach looked at him like he wasn’t sure what planet Mike came from. “Youwill not do more on your own.”

He didn’t actually end up having to do it on his own, because once Coach put in the word, Smith, the d-man’s assistant coach, started him on a more regular regimen. One that didn’t have him passing out as soon as he got home because his body needed sleep so fucking badly. It wasn’t anywhere near as intense as what he’d been doing, but he figured if things started backsliding, there were other rinks in the city he could sneak into.

That was where he was in the week leading up to their next game against the Hornets on December 1. He felt like he was definitely capable of showing Danny on the ice the progress he’d made. But not sure what that would mean, in the end. He knew something was going to happen because it always did whenever he and Danny were in the same city. Even when Mike thought he’d hated him there was something irresistible, something combustible about it. They were going to fight or they were going to fuck or they were going to do both. Or the fightingwasboth. Somehow, he knew that even if Danny was upset with him nothing would change.

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