Page 124 of Any Second Now
Coach is testing different lines.
It’s not that unusual to switch sides during practice to make sure we’re comfortable playing both positions. Sometimes it even happens in a game situation. But moving Harley down to second? That’s not normal.
I’m hoping it’s just for this scrimmage, and not for the season. Why would he mess with a good thing? Kellen, Harley and I are like a well-oiled machine up here.
But Barrett Steele is really good. And young. And powerful. And I’m sure the Blizzard paid a shit ton of money to get him on the team.
And today, he shows his worth. He does a pretty fucking good job sliding into Harley’s spot. He’s faster and more powerful. It’s obvious.
Fuck.
Is Barrett fucking Steele legit ambidextrous? Why the fuck is that kid so good?
Grayson and Elias—the second line defensemen—do an amazing job keeping us at bay. Looks like some of the other guys have been working hard over the summer. Or are at least coming in with determination.
Things might be different this season. I don’t like change. Especially as I’m on the first line with two of my bestfriends.
The scrimmage ends and Coach Jackson calls us all over.
“Nice work, everyone.” He claps his hands three times. “As you saw, we’re playing around with some of the lines. These charity games are the perfect time to test new lineups and strategies.”
There’s some grumbling from the group, but Coach holds up his hand to stop the noise. I sneak a glance at Harley, but his face holds zero expression. I wonder if he’s going to talk to Coach. Harley’s so close to retirement—still a top hockey player, but it’s hard to compete with twenty-five-year-old bodies when you’re in your mid-thirties. I let my eyes land on Barrett. He’s got the common courtesy to not be smirking.
I guess I’m lucky Coach didn’t push me down to second line today as I’ve crossed that old-as-shit-for-hockey thirty-year-old line in the sand. Because really, Barrett should be the biggest threat to me, not Harley, as we play the same position.
I’m overthinking all of this.
All I can do is play the best hockey I can.
“I want to go over a few things. This here is the group for Skate for Kids, our upcoming tourney.” Coach gestures to us. “This is a fundraiser for several different prominent children’s nonprofits, including one that focuses on childhood cancer, so we want to give our full effort. Consider it a preseason game.”
We all nod and there are some murmurs from around the ice. A few guys glance at Kellen, whose young daughter is a childhood cancer survivor.
“We’ll be playing two games. Thursday we’re against Calgary, and Friday it’ll be Vegas. The private plane will leave to come back to FoCo on Friday right after the game, although I know several of you are spending the weekend in New York City.”
Barrett and Lachlan are staying the weekend, and they’re trying to get Harley and me to as well. Why the fuck not? What else do I have to do? Might as well have some fun in the city. Maybe I’ll meet someone to help me get Raleigh out of my head.
But even thinking that disgusts me.
I don’t want to get her out of my head.
I don’t want to kiss anyone else.
I just want Raleigh.
Ah, fuck.
I hate the tightening of my chest when I think about how I’ve lost her.
“That’s all. Flight leaves in five hours. Don’t be late.”
Coach Jackson dismisses us and we all head to the locker rooms for showers.
No one mentions the line mixups.
“How are you feeling out there, Atter?” Kellen asks me as he slides on his sneakers post-shower.
“Good. Healed.”
