Page 84 of Face Off
“Are you ready for St. Louis on Thursday?” I ask, feeling the need to break up the silence. It’s awkward and heavy, both of us wanting to say something but not knowing what it is. “They’re a good team.”
I cringe.
A good team?
Who the hell am I?
I sound like I’ve never talked about sports before when really I spent all afternoon studying the Pelicans’ statistics.
“A great team.” Maverick rubs his jaw, and there’s a line of scruff there. Dark hair he hasn’t shaved since his face was buried between my legs, and I wonder what it would feel like on the inside of my thighs. “Back-to-back Stanley Cup champs.”
“They’re young, aren’t they?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
The average age of the team is twenty-four, but I’m going to keep asking questions if it means Maverick keeps talking to me like he did before he fucked me into oblivion.
“Second youngest team to reach the playoffs, and the youngest team in history to win it all,” he tells me. “I like what they’re doing out there. There’s no superstar on their roster. They’ve got a lot of talented guys, but one person doesn’t outshine the rest. I was hoping that’s how it would go here when I got drafted, but we’re not there yet.”
“This season isn’t as bad as the last couple of years, is it?” I take a deep breath and get ready to ask the question that’s beenon my mind lately. “Have you seen a weakness I could work on that would be beneficial to the team? An area on the ice I can improve in? I’m not dragging us down, am I?”
“What?” Maverick tugs on my belt loop so I can face him, and I wish he’d keep his fingers there. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know.” I play with the ends of my hair, needing a distraction from his intense stare. “You all were playing well the first few weeks of the season. Then I got here, and everything turned to shit. You said so yourself on the plane.”
“That isnotwhat I said on the plane, and I’d never blame you for things turning to shit. That’s how sports work, Hartwell. It’s an ebb and flow. You know that.”
“We’re doing more ebbing than flowing right now. We’re drowning.”
“The reason we were playing better earlier in the season is because we were in better shape than any of the other teams coming out of the preseason. Coach gives us a regimented strength training plan to follow during the summer, and we all take it seriously. We don’t lose a lot of our fitness in the off season, and we’re able to steal a few wins right off the bat. Now everyone else is caught up.”
“Oh.” I bob my head. “That makes sense.”
“Is something else going on?” he asks, and he takes a step toward me. “I know we’re not friends, but you can talk to me about things.”
What if I want him to be my friend?
What if I want to take back everything I said on that plane ride?
“No. Yes.” I shrug and try to look past his shoulder, but he’s too tall. “After the last couple of games, I’ve been wondering if I should’ve stayed in the ECHL. If coming up was a mistake.”
“Are you happy, Emerson?” Maverick asks. “Does playing in this league bring you joy?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“Then it wasn’t a mistake.”
“Now that I’m here and living out this dream, I just… I don’t want to love it any less,” I confess. “Hockey has been a constant for me, and I don’t know what I’d do without it.”
“That’s how life and sports go. Some days you’re frustrated as hell, and some days you want to throw in the towel. But as long as it still makes your heart beat, you have to keep showing up. You don’t give up on the things you love just because they get hard.”
I grip the counter, and I’m caught off guard by how powerful his words are.
Maverick is right.
I’ve been feeling that I’m not worthy just because I’ve been frustrated lately, but that frustration is normal. It comes with loving something deeply, and I refuse to give up on this opportunity.
“I didn’t expect a pep talk tonight,” I say, and I look at him. “I get in my head sometimes. Thank you for validating me.”
“Have you talked to our sports psychologist, Dr. Jenn? She’s a great resource.”
