Page 40 of Goalie Lessons

Luca takes the puck. He and Callum trade it back and forth, working their magic as usual. I wiggle my fingers in my gloves.

Friday night, Callie came home and declared that she would be dropping out of school, which made Athena declare that she would be doing the same. When Callie turned and informed her sister that she could not, actually, also drop out of school—well, that sent Athena into a fit of hysterics.

We’d gone three whole nights without a crying fit, and I’d foolishly started to think that it might be behind us.

“Eyes up!”

I snap out of the thoughts, heat flushing my face as Maverick skates by, saving my ass by deflecting a puck. It’s only a pre-season game, but it’s my chance to show Coach Vic that I deserve to be out here on the ice. I clear my throat, fix my positioning, keep my eye on the puck as it moves back down the ice, shifting away from me, trading hands but not coming this way.

I worry at my jersey, rolling the fabric between my gloved hands. I worry about the girls with the babysitter right now, worry if they’re behaving. If the babysitter is handling it. If they’re going to eat the pizza when it comes, or claim—suddenly—that they don’t like it, like they’ve been doing a lot lately. If we go to a restaurant, they’ll pick the food, wait for it to come to the table, then decide it’s disgusting, and they don’t want it.

Astrid said it’s normal, that it might be a sign they feel out of control. A lot of times, kids only have control over what they eat. And being picky is a way to exert control over their bodies when it feels gone. I worry about them not eating enough, worry that I’m fucking everything up.

I worry about the way Coach is looking at me right now, like I’m falling apart right in front of him. I straighten up my posture, keep my stick in position.

But, most embarrassingly, I worry about all the information I’ve gathered over the week.

My ex-girlfriends were happy to hear from me. Theylikedme, and most of us split up because of life, not because we had some fight. I never cheated on a single one of them, never crossed their boundaries. And they never had a single complaint about me.

But, apparently, every single one of them was disappointed in our sex life.

Hailey:We were so young, Gray. Everyone is like that freshman year. How’s your mom doing?

Diana:You really, really want me to be honest? Then, yeah, that was the worst part of dating you, but you made up for it with the flowers. My bf now never gets me flowers.

Penelope:There are a lot of things I miss about you, but sex isn’t one of them XD sorry, is that too harsh?

“You’re out, O’Connor.”

I straighten, blinking at Martinez as he comes on the ice, a strange look on his face.

“What?”

He grimaces at me, “Coach said you’re out…he wants to give me some time during the pre-season.”

I have the feeling Martinez added that last bit to make me feel better. If anything, Coach would want me to get more time on the ice to work through this.

But it’s not Martinez’s fault, so I just clap him on the shoulder and skate off the ice. Coach is waiting for me, having ducked out of the bench area.

“O’Connor!” Coach meets me, and I stand next to him, sucking down water. He eyes me, like he thinks if he stares at me long enough, he can see right into my mind. If I could, I’d open it up for him, let him tinker around inside.

“You have to get your head in the game, son,” he says.

I tip the helmet up and off my face so I can breathe. “I know, Coach.”

He pauses, thinks for a moment, then says, “I’ll put you back in for the third period.”

Anticipation grows as I watch Martinez out on the ice. He gets an easy save, pulls it around behind the goal and kicks it out to Luca, who skates it down and takes a quick shot at the goal.

I can already hear people talking about how I was pulled from the pre-season game. It would have been better if Coach Vic had just started Martinez in the beginning.

Four minutes go by before the end of the period, and I go back in, determined to keep my head in the game this time. Martinez returns to his spot in the tunnel, passing me as I skate back onto the ice.

The puck buzzes near me the second I’m in, Maverick fighting for the puck inches from me. I butterfly, blocking the side of the goal, eyes on the puck, following it like my life depends on it. It cracks against my pad and bounces away.

Maverick scoops it out, skates it to the center rink, fires it over to Callum, who gets a slap shot right past the other goalie, and deep into the net.

We’re on the board first.

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