Page 91 of Puck'n Bully
“I was in bed for the entire weekend,” he says, frowning. “I’ve had enough rest. It’s time I got to practicing but Coach won’t hear about it. He wants me to wait another two weeks.”
“I heard you tore your ligaments, man,” I tell him in a grim tone. “That shit takes time to heal.”
“I know,” he accepts, clenching his jaw. “We’ve got to win the next two games so we can play those assholes from Silverlake again. Nothing’s going to make me feel better until we’ve destroyed them. Also, this is the final time you, I, and Mitchikov will be playing as the Thunder Knights. We’ve got to win the championship this year too.”
I meet his steely gaze and give a nod. “We will win,” I vow to him.
Stepping closer, he slaps my back. “Good to see you’re back in form, Bastian.”
I smirk. “I’m always in form.”
“Asshole,” he mumbles, shaking his head but I catch his lips quirk into a grin. “By the way, I’m here to take you to Coach Sullivan. He wants to talk to you.”
I glance around my teammates who’re all in varying states of nudeness.
“Just me?” I ask, looking back at Logan.
“Just you. Come along now.” Turning around, he walks out of the changing room. There’s a noticeable limp in his gait. He really shouldn’t be pushing it. Only proper rest can help him heal from his injuries quickly.
Letting out a sigh, I follow him to Coach’s office.
The moment I enter the room, I’m greeted by royal blue walls and a gold-painted ceiling. Light glints off the various trophies and medals kept inside glass shelves. Walking in here feels like catching a glimpse of the team’s history over the decades.
“Johnson. Bastian.” Coach greets us, gesturing toward the chairs by his desk.
I sit down in one of the chairs, expecting a routine talk about the next game. Except, Coach’s gaze is unreadable at the moment as he stares at me with a serious look in his eyes.
Suddenly, the air feels thick.
I catch Logan exchange a glance with Coach and suddenly, I feel anxious.
Do they know where I was over the weekend? Do they knowwhoI was hanging out with?
I force myself to keep an even expression while my heart pounds in my chest.
“Congratulations, Bastian,” Coach Sullivan says. “You have an offer.”
Wait. What?
Coach’s mouth twitches in what could barely be considered a smile. “An NHL scout was at the game against Silverlake.”
I glance toward Logan who grins back at me.
“Even though we lost the game,” Coach continues, drawing my attention back on him. “They were impressed by how you held your ground and kept fighting. No matter how many times you were hit, you got back up again. And even though you lost the game, you scored some amazing goals.” Folding his arms, he leans forward. “They want to draft you.”
For a long moment, I’m rendered speechless.
The NHL.
My dream.
It’s finally happening.
After all the grueling practices and pushing my body past its limits, of never giving myself the luxury to break down—this is finally happening.
I take in a sharp breath as a slow grin spreads across my face. “Are you serious, Coach?”
Coach nods. “Yep. You did it, Bastian.”
