Page 53 of The Comeback

“Fine.”

I shut my eyes, testing out the first note. The words were mostly already in place, but I changed the ending. It’s an aching melody that drains and fills me up at same time.

Creating new songs is such a strange experience. Knowing that other people will hear your words. They might interpret them in a completely different way than you originally intended. The melodies might bring them great joy or aching sadness. We all interpret creative works through the lens of our own experiences, so they’re getting a piece of me and blending it with a piece of themselves. It’s beautiful. There’s so much division in the world I love the thought of two people in different cities, countries, or continents listening to the same song at the same time. There’s magic in that.

My voice breaks on the last line, and I swipe at the hot trail of tears on my cheeks. I didn’t even realize I was crying. Good thing I got that out of my system. Better to cry in front of Ree than when I’m singing it for Dax tomorrow.

When I open my eyes I see Ree’s face pressed into her hand, a little drool escaping her smudged lips. Her chest is rising and falling with rumbly snores too loud for her slim frame. Nothing shatters your grand musical pretensions than your drunk best friend passing out in the middle of the song that tore your soul to shreds to create. I’ll remember this when she’s on her first red carpet.

“Ree. C’mon. Get up. Let’s get you to bed.”

Chapter 40

Sebastian

"Whatthehell?"Coleshoots me a surprised look.

My arm's tingling, Coach is screaming at me, and my teammates are closing in, but it's all worth it. I'm looking for a fight, and Cole happened to get in my cross hairs. I figure he's a safe bet given his reputation.

I'm already dropping my gloves, but he disappoints me throwing his hands up in the air and shaking his head. I ignore his blatant anger closing in on him when I'm yanked back by a hand on my jersey.

"The fuck, man." Perfect. It’s Devlin growling in my ear as he pulls me into his chest. Lucy won't stand for any sass.

I duck under his arm pulling free from his hold and sending a fist into his side. He grunts, trying to grab me, but I skate out of reach. Closing back in to try to land another blow. Before I can get in there, my ears are ringing from coach's whistle and the rest of the team has closed in. Someone's got their arms locked around my torso. Nobody is holding Lucy back. He's advancing on me, glowering.

Dev is the biggest D man in the division. I don't even struggle against the hold, waiting for the pain. Needing to feel something physical to take my mind off the ache in my heart. The anger that she left. The knowledge that it was my fault all along. I deserved it.

I close my eyes, waiting. For nothing. The punch never lands. When I open my eyes Devlin is right there, helmet off, dark eyes burning with rage, but also something else I don't want to identify. "I'm not hitting you."

"You sure as shit aren't." Coach says. "Fleet, get to my office now. The rest of you, laps." He blows his whistle again and skates off without checking to see if I'll follow. He expects blind obedience from us and he usually gets it. When he doesn't, the whole team pays.

"Go talk to Coach, and then swing by my place later. Jordan's going out with some friends, so we'll have the place to ourselves. You need to get your head on straight." The words come from behind, so Aspen's the one who grabbed me. Figures. Team Captain has gotta keep us in line.

"Fine."

I hop the board and stomp to Coach's office, leaving my stick, gloves, and helmet on the ice. I can't seem to control the asshole today. I haven't been this out of control since I first got injured.

I take a few deep breaths, using some of the meditation techniques I learned when I was seeing a team mandated therapy session. It took a while, but as much as I hate to admit it. It helped. Helped me get my head back on straight. Helped me get back on the ice. But now that I'm here I’m still fucking up. I'm still putting myself and career in a precarious situation.

"Fleet!" He barks at me before I've even made it through the door. "You're off the ice for the rest of the day."

"What?!" I was expecting laps, drills. I thought he'd push me until I puked on the ice, not sending me off.

"You're out of control. Trying to start a fight at practice. With the newest member of the team. What the hell were you thinking?"

He doesn't expect an answer and I don't have one. I am acting like a dick.

"Throwing a temper tantrum, attacking teammates. I thought we talked about this. I thought you'd gotten yourself under control. Things seemed better."

My arms are crossed tight against my chest and I'm looking anywhere but at him. He's right. I was starting to get my shit back together and now. I'm blowing it all again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Cole, Dev, the rest of your team. You need this season. You've got something to prove and it's not that your an out of control wild card. No one will touch you with that attitude. Doesn't matter how good you are. And to be frank you haven't even been playing well enough to even consider overlooking that behavior."

"I know. I'm sorry. There was something going on, but it's over now. I'll fix this. There's nothing to worry about now."

Coach sighs, rubbing a hand through his full beard. "is it a girl?" He's fidgeting and not meeting my eyes. He has about as much desire to have this conversation as me.

"It was, but it's over. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." I shift back, hoping he'll let this go.

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