Page 2 of Unlovable Player

I’m disoriented, but not hurt. Jordan - our main enforcer - is throwing his gloves off and shoving Huntington back against the boards. Huntington flashing him that same shit-eating grin I’m treated to every game.

The ref breaks it up and while Jordan’s back’s turned, Huntington grins at me.

Fucking dick.

We manage to get two more goals in the last ten minutes and win the game 3-0, but I’m still pissed. Despite scoring the first goal and getting an assist, that asshole really got under my skin.

Back in the locker room, Coach tells us we did a good job and debriefs us about what we could have done better for next time before letting us go.

I call my ma as soon as I get out of the arena and she picks up on the first ring. I can imagine her in the living room with a bowl of popcorn, screaming at the TV.

She whoops as soon as she picks up. “Well done baby, that goal was amazing.”

“Thanks, how are you?”

“Fine, fine, are you okay?”

“I’m good.”

“You didn’t get hurt when you went down?”

“Nope. Don’t worry Ma, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She’s trying to sound cool about it when I know how much she stresses.

“That Huntington guy’s a real asshole huh?”

“The fucking worst.”

“Hey, language!”

“Sorry.”

“Leave that shit on the ice.”

I laugh. “How come it’s okay for you to curse but not me?”

“Because I’m your mother, that’s why.”

“Uh huh.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Going home to eat a shit ton of food before crashing into bed. You?”

“Same.”

I laugh. “You working tomorrow?”

“I’m on the late shift, so I’ll just talk to you Monday or something.”

“Alright, love you Ma.”

“Love you too.”

I see Yale’s coach parked outside the arena as I put the phone down and wish I could slash their tires. I know it’s unsportsmanlike, but I’d love to rub something in Huntington’s smug, rich face. Yeah we won, but he’s a dick, and he’ll keep being a dick unless someone teaches him a lesson.

I walk past and wait for the bus home instead, doing the right thing.

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