Page 33 of Coach Sully

When I feel well enough to move, I rinse the taste of bile out of my mouth at the sink. Fuck. It’s a strange feeling between hunger and nausea. Do I eat something and risk it coming back up? Sully would chastise me if he knew how many meals I’ve been skipping. It’s not intentional, nothing appeals to me lately. I think it’s this stomach bug. The only thing that sounds appetizing is a long nap. I’m not a person who naps, but lately, the idea of stretching out like a cat all afternoon and sleeping sounds fantastic.

When I exit the bathroom, I startle at the massive, unexpected wall of Sully blocking my path.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at me.

“I’m fine. Why aren’t you with Candace? Do you need something?”Shit, what did I miss because of this stupid nausea?My salty feelings breed jealous, impulsive thoughts. It’s unfair to both of the cast members.Grow up, Kendra.

“You’re ashen.”

“Uh, thanks?” I say, brushing past him back to my post in the corner of the restaurant. Then I spot Lance at the end of the hallway with his camera trained on us. It doesn’t look good with the way Sully was standing so close to me.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

It pisses me off. I’ve already been kicking my own ass about it, I don’t need his help.He has to stop checking in on me, it’s none of his business. I grit my teeth and spin to face him. “Sully, I need you to sit down at your table so I can do my job. Do you understand me?” My voice is stern.

He glares at me. His jaw tics, and the anger comes off him in waves. I’m acutely aware of the camera fifteen feet behind me. Sully rubs the back of his neck, and his shoulders relax. His gaze drops to the floor when he realizes this isn’t something we’re going to argue about.

“Yeah. I understand,” he says.

“Good. Is the date going okay?”

His eyes find mine again. “Well, she’s not you.”

The words make me want to throw up all over again. I’m well aware that woman is not me. The reminder is cruel. I scoff and turn around, putting on a tight smile for the camera as I find my place next to the crew, not looking back.

After a few seconds, he strides back to his seat. Rachel hands me the antacids, and I pop them in my mouth. It takes the edge off some of the nausea.

“He’s good now,” I say to Rachel. “Growing pains, ya know?” I want Rachel and Lance to believe our close conversation was simply a pep talk from me, rather than the awkward confrontation it was.

“Three-on-twos!” I shout to my players.

Three play offense against two defense to protect the net. I want them to push harder. “Where’s your grit? Take up space!”

They run the drill, and after each shot on goal, a new set of offense and defense jump in to run it.

“New puck, new puck!” I shoot another one out to center ice for the next set of players. “Let’s go!”

On the ice, the cameras don’t bother me. I’m used to being on camera on the ice. It’s a relief from the other night with that shitshow of a date.What even was that?And the way she looked at me when she told me to get back to my table… Shit. Those eyes were empty, like I was nothing to her. Like we were strangers.

If we’re to survive these upcoming months, I will have to place some distance between us. She clearly has. This show isher priority; she’s young and career focused. I understand that mentality and respect it. When I was younger, that was me too. I can’t hinder what she’s working toward. We can get along and wrap up this contract.

Jeanine, the assistant coach, who’s been covering defense, positions herself next to me. “We have a weak corner. Let’s swap out Grattle for Skarbakka.”

I nod. “Affirm.”

“Out of play! New puck!” I yell, shooting another one across the ice. I need to be as focused on my team as Kendra is on this show. These players didn’t fight like hell to get here so I could give them less than one hundred percent of my attention. I run the three-on-two drill over and over until they’re getting a little sloppy.

“Go hydrate!”

The speed skating stops, and they turn on the edge of their skates back to the bench. While they take a break and grab water, I collect the pucks. I encourage them to bond with each other as much as possible, which happens best if I’m not around. I’ve even set mandatory nights they go out together so they can connect off the ice. By game one, they should be thick as thieves. I smile when I hear mostly laughter from the bench. That’s a good sign. I let them have a few more minutes while I set up the drill again. Giving them a demo will help them visualize the issue we’re trying to correct.

“Okay, everybody back to the net. Skarbakka, you’re on D with Breck.”

“Let’s go, Trainwreck!” one of the girls hollers, and Joey laughs, finding her spot on the ice.

“Here’s what’s happening.” I skate to center ice, then toward them as a demonstration. “Here comes offense, it’s coming in hot.” I navigate between my players who are standing still. Joey gets into position along with Skarbakka. “Right there! Stop!” Imove to the open area, where we’re having a problem. “Right here, there is no presence. We have a huge open pocket. Delta, I want you making sure these holes are getting plugged up. You should all be taking up space. Everybody got it?”

“Yes, Coach.”

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