Page 69 of Bad Teammate
Motherfucker!
Snow sprayed through the air as I desperately hit the brakes and braced for impact—but my power stop was too aggressive, and I lost an edge and fell to the ice.
Cameron’s big body hurtled overhead, right where I’d been standing. A crippling wave of kinetic energy blew past me in his wake, making every hair on my body stand on edge.
Turns out, that accidental slip was what saved me. If I hadn’t fallen? Well, I didn’t exactly see my lifeflash before my eyes, but I sure saw all my previousinjuriesflash before my eyes. I was mere inches away from getting wrecked and missing another season—maybe my last.
Jesus.
Niko is gonna get me killed out here.
I was still shaken when I made it back to the bench.
Coach Q was livid. He paced up and down the length of the bench, ranting.
“What in the livingfuckwas that pass, Niko? Are youtryingto get your teammates killed out there? Pull your fuckin’ head of yourass! Understand,comrade?” He grabbed me by the shoulder. “Reavo, I don’t know what’s going on out there, but you two don’t have it today. You’re with Parisi now.”
Never thought I’d be so happy to be demoted to the third line.
But, like it or not, Niko had made his point, and I knew what I had to do when I got home.
***
With me and Niko on separate lines, we managed to stop the bleeding and play some actual hockey. It was too little, too late, however, and we lost the game by a score of 5–2.
I don’t think I talked to anyone in the room after the game. I was the first out of the shower and the first to leave the rink.
I drove straight home.
The elevator doors opened on my floor. I slowly made my way down the long hallway. I got a whiff of something delicious, and I sniffed at the air. A spicy, savory aroma filled the hallway, growing more irresistible with each step I took. By the time I made it to the door, I was salivating.
Man.
I knew it was Katerina’s cooking. Whoever got to come home to smells like that for the rest of his life was a lucky guy.
He wasn’t me, though.
Hecouldn’tbe me.
I pushed the door open just as Katerina pulled a tray out of the oven. Little wisps of steam rose from the piping hot pastries. She set the tray on the counter, along with a whole arrangement of foods she’d made. Meats and pastries and kebabs and pancake-looking things. It all looked and smelled so good.
“Derek!” she said, glowing as she smiled at me. She tossed off her oven mitts and rushed over to me, threw herself in my arms, and planted her lips against mine.
Reluctantly, I held her. But I couldn’t kiss her back. My conscience was too guilty, my heart too heavy.
“Aw, what’s the matter, my sweet guy? Is it because of your game?” she asked with a sympathetic frown. “I’m sorry you lost. I know you must be so disappointed.” She escaped my grasp and grabbed a fried pastry from a platter. “Here. Try this. It’s apirozhki.I promise it will make you feel better.”
God.
She was perfect.
She was perfect, and I wanted her all to myself.
But I couldn’t have her. She wasn’t mine to have.
“Open your mouth!” she demanded, bouncing with excitement.
I opened my mouth and she popped the pastry in with a giggle.
