Page 91 of Faking It with the Forward

What I don’t tell him is that I’m hungover. For the third straight day. And that I skipped two classes and everything is falling apart. “It’s been a bad week.”

“I heard about Pete.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “Green says his ankle should be okay with surgery and PT.”

“He’s still out for the season.”

“It happens,” he shrugs. “He’s young and will bounce back.”

I grunt, not convinced. Dad was young. He didn’t bounce back. But Pete’s not the problem anyway. I felt nothing but relief that Coach Green said he’ll make a full recovery and will probably be back on the ice by next season. No, Pete was the catalyst, not the problem.

Down by the bench I see Twyler’s dark ponytail bob as she carries in a heavy cooler of water. Jonathan runs up behind her and takes the extra weight. I drag my eyes away and stare at my hands.

“Oh, boy,” Dad says, following my gaze, “it’s true.”

“What’s true?”

He nods down at Twyler. “This spiral is about a woman.”

Did Coach tell him that? I swallow the lump that builds in my throat every time I think about her.

“She’s cute.”

Gorgeous.I shake my head. “Well, she’s not mine, that’s for sure.”

“What the hell did you do?”

“Me?” I bark out an incredulous laugh. “I didn’t do anything. Hell, no. It was her decision.” He gives me an expectant look. “She had to choose between her internship and our relationship.” I nod down to her. “You can see which one she chose.”

I’m not happy about it. Fuck, I’ve been drowning my sorrows for days, but Twyler called it. I’d never give up hockey. Not for anyone. And I shouldn’t ask her to do the same thing.

And she wasn’t wrong about Shanna either. She’d given me an ultimatum and I walked because our goals weren’t the same. Who am I to do the same to Twyler?

Next to me my father hums, watching Axel argue with Emerson in front of the goal. Axel’s pointing to the area outside the crease, where Kirby’s been applying pressure all practice, hammering the goal with opportunities to score, including the one I missed. He and I approach playing differently, and it’s been hard for us to find a good groove. It’s also hard for the defenders to block.

“You see that?” he asks, pointing down to the ice where Emerson’s been hovering in front of the net all practice.

“Yeah, they’ve been fighting since the season started.”

“Refusing to compromise is usually about fear. It feels safe to stay in one place, but it can leave you vulnerable to your opponent. Being inflexible and resistant to compromise will limit his options.” He lifts his chin. “That kid needs to make a choice, choose a path, get out of the goal, put some pressure on the forward. Change up the dynamics or he’ll never get what he wants.”

As if my dad’s some kind of hockey whisperer, Emerson finally gets the guts to go after Kirby, leaving Axel alone to defend the net. The result is an impressive deke, and he clears the puck down to the opposite end where Reid is waiting.

Dad stands, clapping his hands, shouting out to Emerson for the good play.

“Don’t limit your options, Son. Not on the ice or with anything that’s important to you.” He glances over at me. “That was a lesson I didn’t learn until it was way too late.”

It’s not unusual for my father to use hockey as an allegory to real life. This is the man who took me aside before my first date, handed me a box of condoms, and explained that wearing one is like a goalie protecting the crease. It’s the last line of defense between an unwanted pregnancy or STI.

This talk about compromise has me thinking about when my mom left. I wasn’t privy to the inner workings of their relationship, but I know one thing: my father didn’t fight for her. He let her make her decision and she never looked back. Although I don’t regret my decision to break up with Shanna, neither of us was willing to make a compromise for the other.

Down below, the players maneuver on the ice, and I realize that the same principle that applies to the game – being willing to adapt and make choices that benefit the team—applies to me and Twyler.

If we’re going to make this, or any relationship work, one of us is going to have to step outside of our comfort zone.

26

Twyler

“You’ve got this.”

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