Page 20 of Hitting the Goal Line
As I say the words, the beep indicating that I have another call coming in, sounds through my ear. I pull the phone back a bit and sure enough, it’s the same person that was calling earlier. My dad.
“And you don’t want to answer or talk to him so you want your brother to intervene.” Selena concludes, like this is something I call about all the time.
Do I? I don’t think so.
“Yeah, pretty much,” I say letting out a sigh.
“And I’m going to go take a wild guess that the call you have on the other line, is him?”
I nod as if she were in front of me. “He’s been calling all day. He didn’t call for graduation, or hell, even my birthday, but yet he calls today. The day before”
“You see if you will get drafted into the NHL,” Selena finishes for me.
For a while year, I debated on whether or not I was going to join the draft this year or hold off for another year. I saw the benefits of waiting another year, I could get faster and better, but so much could happen in that time that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to risk it. After talking it over with my mom and my stepdad, Hunter and Selena, Sophia, and her dad, I decided to enter.
If I didn’t get drafted this year, I still had a few more chances.
But Isaac, Sophia’s dad, and the man that has not only been my coach since I was little kid, but who has always been like a father to me, and helped raise me and mold me into the almost man that I am today, said that I was ready. That I saw a sure fire pick this time around.
I didn’t believe him, I still don’t, but I’m not going to tell him that because he has already threatened to disown me if I mention any shit about not getting drafted to him.
Either way, I entered. And now I just have to wait and see if I get drafted and hopefully become an NHL player when I leave Montana State.
“Can I ask you a question, Len?” I ask, leaning back on my desk chair, practically testing its limits.
“Anything.”
“Do you really think that I’m good enough to get drafted?” I ask, feeling like I need someone that doesn’t see me play all the time, to give me their honest opinion on where or not I have a future in hockey or not. I’ve asked Sophia countless of time, but she’s biased as hell.
“I’ve only seen you play a handful of times, I don’t know if that gives me the power to answer a question like that.”
“Try?” I urge, messaging the space between my eyebrows, trying to my best to remember that manifestation shit that Soph has been learning lately.
“Fine,” she says but then pausing for a few seconds. “Yeah, I think you’re good enough and I’m not saying that because I’m your brother’s girlfriend. I’m saying that because I may have only seen you play a few times, but in those few times, it seemed like you belong out on the ice. You made your stick an extension of you, and if I’m being honest, not a lot of the players out there did that.”
Since I was a kid, coach has always drilled in my head that my stick is more than a piece of wood. That I needed to treat it as if it was a part of my person and that I needed to protect it at all costs. My stick gets hurt, I get hurt. I guess if Selena, who I’m sure isn’t even a hockey fan, was able to notice something like that, scouts and teams are too.
“Sophia and her dad think that I’m a sure-fire choice,” I say, feeling a bit more confident in my choice to join the draft than I did a few seconds ago.
“I would believe them.”
Yeah, I would too. They are the two people that know me best.
I stay silent, not responding to Selena, just trying to digest everything.
“Look, a lot could happen in the next twenty-four hours. How about you distract yourself a little bit and go into tomorrow witha clear head?” Selena suggests after a few minutes of me not saying anything.
“And how would you suggest I distract myself?” The only way I can think of is with hockey but it’s late and the rink is already closed.
“I don’t know, you’re eighteen, go to party or something. Grab Sophia and go to a movie. Just do something to not think about the what ifs that can come with tomorrow or your dad calling you because he now wants to be in your life because of it.”
I don’t have to even think about it to know that she is right. Hunter wouldn’t have been this damn wise.
“Don’t tell your boyfriend, but I like you better than him.”
“I know you do. Now, go do what I say,” she orders, and by the sound of her voice I know she has a smile on her face.
“Ay ay, captain. See you tomorrow.”
