Page 28 of Chase
“Aren’t you with the brother?”
“No, he and I aren’t much of anythin’ so don’t you worry your pretty head about that. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I’m not really up to date on what’s going on here anyway. I just got back last week,” she looks uncomfortable talking about it and I don’t press her. I know from Evie that she’s been fighting for her life in more ways than one since the night of the attack.
She looks good though. She’s gained some weight and looks well-rested. I know Evie would love nothing more than for her to walk into our apartment and make herself at home. It’s been slow to get Edi to warm up to the idea but we’re both willing to keep at it.
“It’s gettin’ late, are you headed out? Want to come back with me, Evie will be happy as a clam to see ya,” I offer with a smile to see if she bites.
As emotionally taxing as my childhood was, I always had a roof over my head, a warm bed to sleep in, clean clothes to wear, water to wash up with, and food to eat. Things I neverthought about ever going a moment without are things that Edi has to seek out every day. It breaks my heart for her, especially knowing we have a third bedroom with her name on it when she’s ready. But it doesn’t seem like today’s that day.
“Yeah, I better get to the shelter before they close the doors. Thanks for uh, helping me, you know, with the phone and shit,” she offers as we walk out onto campus. We split off and I make my way down the paved paths to my apartment.
I feel a warmth spread through me from head to toe as I walk back.It must be him.It’s late and as much of a presence as campus security has been since Evie’s attack, I feel safer with him nearby. I don’t turn around. I don’t scan his usual hiding spots. I know he’s there. I know he’ll stand behind the big oak tree on the side of the building by the woods.
Twenty minutes later, I peek out the window and see him in the shadows I toy with keeping the light on just a little bit longer. If I do, I know he’ll stay and be close.Which is as close as he seems to get.
Chapter Ten
I’M STANDINGin front of Coach’s office door and dig my hand out of my pocket to knock. I feel disconnected from myself standing here waiting to meet my maker. Like I’m watching from outside my body or something. Whatever is about to happen will be life-changing and I know I won’t walk out of here the same as when I walk in after facing him.
Coach has the ability to cut my career, squash my childhood dreams, and obliterate any chances I have of making it to theNHL. His program is nationally recognized for turning more college players into NHL prospects than any other Coach in the country.
He can break me… but I’m already broken. You would think I’d be revolting against this, that I’d be thinking of a thousand ways to save my ass and convince him to keep me but I’m not. I’m numb. Completely fucking numb.
I’ve already shown him and my team that I’m a fuck up. I don’t deserve to be here and it’s finally catching up to me. I’ve been playing on autopilot, relying on years of training, and my instinct for the game to get me through. My heart isn’t in it. My head isn’t focused. I’m dead weight and everyone fucking knows it.
I roll back on my sneakered heels and it intensifies the familiar burn that runs through my feet. They’re sore as hell after my 4 AM run, morning skate, and now standing here on worn-out soles. The cushioning on these sneakers is basically non-existent at this point. I can easily order another pair but I won’t. I like how it hurts and it pulls me back into the present.
Coach’s muffled voice filters through the door and I hear him say my first and last name to whoever he’s talking to.Chase Wilton, what a fucking waste.He says goodbye and I know this is it. He’s gonna open that door and cut my ass.
I’m waiting for my body to break out in a sweat, to feel my protein shake sour in my stomach, or for my mouth to go dry. But I don’t feel a thing besides my feet being on fucking fire.
Coach yanks the door open and fills the entire doorway. He’s a big guy and once upon a time, he scared the shit outta me. I should be scared now but I’m not. I should be on my knees begging for another chance to prove myself, but instead, I slouch in my hoodie and try to make myself as small as possible while he pinches his face together and looks me up and down. Fuck.
“Get in here, Wilton. Sit and keep your mouth shut, I’ve got shit to say to you and you’re gonna listen until I’m done,” he demands and I do what he says. I sit and try to melt into the chair but it’s no use. I’m still here. This is where it all ends. Where he tells me he’s sick and tired of my shit and cuts me from the team.
He rounds the corner of his desk and takes a seat. He leans forward on his elbows and shifts his weight before resting his chin on his left-handed fist. He’s staring at me and I swear he sees right through me. He’s quiet.Too quiet.
I rather have him yelling and screaming than sitting here staring at me in silence. It’s freaking me the fuck out.
“Do you know why you’re here?” he asks with a steady and stern voice.
“Because I’m not playing to the best of my ability, Coach,” that doesn’t seem to be the answer he’s looking for and his eyes slightly soften which surprises the hell outta me.
“That may be true, and we’ll get to that, but in this particular case, your game isn’t my first concern. Your mental health is. We’re here to talk about you and how you’ve been struggling.”What the fuck?My eyes widen and feel permanently stuck.
Of all the things he could’ve led with, I really wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. It was honestly the last fucking thing I thought he would say. This is D1 college hockey, there isn’t room for empathy.
“What your sister went through last semester was hell and I’m glad she’s on the other side of it. You, however, are not. You have struggled every day since you faced those two goddamn animals on the ice. You’ve been on a downward trajectory. You’re stuck in your head and depressed, Chase. I see it and your team sees it. You’ve lost weight, you look like hell, and you’re determined to run yourself into the ground. Everyone is concerned. Your teammates are worried. I’m worried, too.”
My skin feels itchy and my head feels heavy as I listen to his words. It’s too much. I want to get the fuck outta here. Go back home and lock the goddamn world out. Stay in my bed until the day fades away and I can go see her.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of that chair and I don’t blame you. This is hard to talk about, but we need to have this conversation. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you but you can’t see the light right now. You’re so far in the dark that you can’t put one foot in front of the other let alone lace up skates. You’re one of the most talented players I’ve ever coached, but you’re not okay right now.
If you want to stay on this team then you need to do the work and I’m not talking about on the ice, you need to go to therapy. I’ve spoken to the Athletics Department and it’s now a condition of your scholarship. I’ll keep you on my team if you report to the Wellness Center before the end of the week. I was on the phone with them before you walked in, they’re expecting you.”
“I… don’t know what to say, Coach,” the numb feeling I had earlier is replaced with gnawing anxiety. I feel vulnerable as hell and I really don’t fucking like it. I squint my eyes shut and turn my face away from him. It’s like a giant spotlight is showing him every flaw, every fuck up, and every splintered piece of me. He can see every-fucking-thing. I feel so ashamed.And I fucking should be.
