Page 37 of Chase
“You all have big dreams and I will do my damndest to help you get to the next level but you all need a back up plan otherwise you’ll be lacing skates your entire lives. I get first week reports on Friday morning and if any of you are missing or late to tutoring I will tie your ass to a chair in the library before every goddamn practice and game until you get your shit together. Do I make myself clear?”
A rubs his palms over his thighs and I’ve got a feeling he hasn’t reported to tutoring once this week. His knee is bouncing a mile a fucking minute and Monroe leans over and says something to him before slapping him on the back.
Monroe is a scholar athlete and he and Drew are always neck and neck for highest GPA in the athletics department. No doubt he can help him out and smooth things over with Coach.
“Ok, go suit up. One last thing, both of you Wiltons, meet me in my office in five.” A looks like he’s about to break out in a cold sweat. He doesn’t get upset about much but hockey getting taken away from him would definitely be one of the few things to rattle his cage.
Coach’s door is open when we both approach and we each take a seat and wait for him to finish up on his tablet.
“I’m going to ask you both a question and I want an honest answer. It’ll determine how your next few hours go so take more than a half a second to think it over,” he states while steepling his fingers in front of his face while his elbows rest on his desk.
“Do you both want to stay on this team?” Coach’s voice is stern and ice cold. Void of all emotions, just straight to the fucking point. No bullshit.
“Of course we do, Coach,” A answers for the both of us and unlike Coach, his voice is full of enough emotion to fill the damn arena.
“Then why haven’t you gotten your ass to tutoring this week? I checked in specifically with the Tutoring Center and you didn’t see your tutor once.”
“It’s not my fault Coach, I’ve texted her and she isn’t getting back to me.” A pulls out his phone and shows Coach the crazy amount of messages he’s sent Edison. He keeps scrolling up to show him how many of them there are. There isn’t a single response from her. It’s honestly hilarious. So this is why he’s had his phone in a death grip for weeks. She’s ghosting him.
“Did you go to the Tutoring Center? Or join in on another session with one of your teammates? Did you bring this to my attention before I had to ask you about it? No you didn’t.”
“I-,” A tries to defend himself but Coach isn’t having it.
“I don’t want to hear one more excuse Hunter. Not one.” Coach turns from A to me and I swear the room warms up slightly. “Have you thought about our conversation yesterday? I’m worried about you and I know your teammates are too.”
“I’ve thought about it a little. I just don’t know how it’s gonna solve anything, Coach.” I can feel my brother burning holes in the side of my head. The NHL has always been a shared dream and I don’t want to let him down but I also don’t see how therapy will help.
“All I’m asking is for you to give it a shot, to give yourself a shot,” he asks and as sincere as he’s being, I feel like he’s trapping me in a corner.
If I say no, everything gets taken away from me. I’m off the team. I’m outta Havenwood. No more Sloane.Oh my fucking God my parents will disown me.
A, Drew, Jake, and Monroe will leave me for the pros. B will marry Max and go live wherever he’s drafted. I’ll really be alone. I’d be abandoned…again.
I feel hot from head to toe. My throat is tight and my mouth is dry. Panic is starting to set in and I grip the sides of the chair to keep myself from toppling over.Fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out.
I faintly hear my brother’s voice, I can’t make it out clearly, I think he’s saying something about breathing but I can’t make it out over the loud-as-hell thoughts running rampant through my head. He sounds like he’s a million miles away...maybe he’s already left me.
The angel’s voice booms over the static and noise that’s at maximum volume in my head. I can see her clear as day, shining her halo and settling into her plush chair on my shoulder so she can comfortably remind me that my sister will leave me too if I go after her friend.
All of a sudden I feel hands gripping my shoulders and my hat is ripped off my head. My dirty ass sweatshirt is being fanned away from my chest and I shiver as the cool air hits my sweaty skin.
I think Coach is talking to someone. I hear the words doctor and trainer but I can’t focus on anything but the black dots in front of me.
“Chase, fucking breathe. Fucking breathe,” Hunter’s voice sounds so close now.Did he come back for me?
“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, open your eyes and breathe for me,” his words are crystal clear
and are exactly what I need. My throat relaxes, my lungs deflate and I take in a big breath of air. My eyes fly open and the spots fade.
“You haven’t done that in years. Fuck, are you okay?” My brother sounds frantic. Like he’s spooked.
“What the fuck just happened? Chase, talk to me, son,” Coach asks and puts his meaty hand on my forehead and pushes my sweat-drenched hair outta the way.
“He had a panic attack. He holds his breath when it happens,” A explains and then asks, “Are they happening again?”
“I don’t know,” I croak out and rub my chest which still feels tight.
“Here drink this, and when was the last time you ate something? You look paler than usual,” Coach asks and I honestly can’t remember eating anything besides a protein shake after weightlifting. I missed breakfast and lunch so that’s probably it.
