Page 123 of Any Second Now
Wednesday, July 30
“Get your asses moving, gentlemen! Summer is over. Almost.” Coach Jackson projects so impressively from on the bench, it’s like he’s got a bullhorn. “Time to get yourself in gear for hockey. And it’s obvious some of you have been eating too much, drinking too much, and sitting on your asses.”
I growl. It’s still freaking July. But I don’t say it out loud in case it brings Coach’s wrath down on me. As if he hasn’t been lying around and drinking and eating too much? Just because his career doesn’t hinge on how fit he is doesn’t mean he can throw it in our faces.
Well, I guess it does, actually.
Real practices don’t start until pre-season in September, but most of the team steps up their workouts and skates throughout August in preparation. This practice is mostly informal. Not all the players are back or even participating in the upcoming charity event.
We’re on the ice doing two-on-one drills with rotating partners. I attack with Kellen and we attempt to get past Lachlan to shoot on goal. Augustus, our goaltender, stands guard at the net. He looks relaxed and tan after a summer at the beach with some of the other guys. I bet they went for leisurely jogs on the beach every morning and played golf in the afternoon.
That’s what I should’ve done this summer. Gone to the ocean and got a tan and worked on my surfing skills.
Not let myself fall for Raleigh.
I shake my head to get the repeatingI love herout of my head, and instead focus on my next pass to Kellen. After I get him the puck, I skate ahead, but Lachlan knows this play, so when Kellen goes to pass back to me, Lach’s right there and hits the puck past us to clear it from the net.
There are no smiles from Lachlan today. He’s focused and stony-faced, channelling his heartbreak into hockey. That’s the healthy way to handle it. Take it out on the puck.
I, on the other hand, am far too distracted. I can’t focus. I can’t think straight.
My father texted me again yesterday. I’m not a fan of him keeping in touch since Lucy’s not been responding. And this time, when I responded, there was no sarcasm or snark. I told him I needed a break from him.
Because I don’t want a reminder of who I am by nature. I don’t want to see him or talk to him or watch how he treats women. Even if I can’t have Raleigh, he’s not who I am going to let myself be.
And that feels like quite the revelation.
It feels good to understand myself a bit more, but it doesn’t help my current heartache.
I kind of want to kick Lachlan’s ass for even suggesting Raleigh be my dating coach that first day we all hung out at Black Diamond. He was enthralled with his girlfriend and determined to play matchmaker. Maybe if that hadn’t happened, Raleighwould’ve moved on, just using Fort Collins as a brief stopping point since Lucy was out of town for another month. Maybe I wouldn’t have kissed her that night while we were watching the zombie movies.
There’s a twist in my chest. My heart? My belly? Maybe I just need to throw up. Or maybe it’s heartburn.
We skate around to the back of the line and rotate partners so I’m with Harley. His face is a blank slate, and he nods at me while we wait our turn to shoot at Augustus.
“You okay, man?” I ask Harley. He definitely does not look okay. He’s not been acting okay.
He nods. “Fine. Feels good to be back on the ice.” It sounds like he’s talking through gritted teeth.
I think his breakup might have cleared his entire body of any emotions. Permanently. He’s never been the outgoing extrovert, but he at least chatted with us, laughed at jokes, engaged with the guys. Now he’s a robot going through the motions.
“I know what you mean.” It does feel good to be back on the ice and around the team. Hockey season means something huge and all-encompassing to focus on. It’s not just our job, it’s who we are.
This time, I get the puck back to Harley and he manages to sail it past Jasper. It almost goes in, but Augustus makes an impressive save with his glove.
After another ten minutes of this drill, Coach sets us up for a passing drill where we’re all positioned around the ice with the goal of keeping the puck moving in a continuous motion, mimicking the intense pace of passing during a game.
There’s not much time to think. And for that, I’m grateful.
The best part of today’s practice is the fact that I’m pushing myself hard and my body feels one hundred percent ready. Those twinges in my groin that lingered over the summer are gone. Even the phantom ones.
We end the practice with a twenty-minute intense scrimmage.We always take these seriously, but especially during preseason—or pre-pre-season, as this is—because Coach Jackson and sometimes other people from management are on the sidelines assessing us.
But this time, halfway through the scrimmage, Coach Jackson mixes up all the lines in a way that makes me feel sick.
They pull Barrett up to the first line as left wing—even though he normally plays right wing, my position—and move Harley down to second line. Then they move the second line left wing down to third line and swap that dude… it’s a lot of movement.
But the intention is clear.
