Page 53 of Full Tilt
TOMMY
Drunk texting is probably the worst idea I’ve had all year.
That’s what enters my head as I hit Send on a second message to Jenna.
Me
Did you fuck Curtis Freeman and then use his phone to post on social media about me?
You did, didn’t you?
Tossing back another bourbon in a seedy bar on the opposite side of town from my apartment, I raise a finger at the bartender, who strolls across with the bottle, ready to refill my glass. Either he recognizes me and has wisely chosen to keep his mouth shut or he knows nothing about hockey.
When he tips the spout toward my glass, I wrap an unsteady hand around the bottle neck.
“Just leave the whole thing here and put it on my tab.” I slur out the demand.
Whichever part of my conscience remains sober knows that I’m going to regret this decision tomorrow. Trouble is, I can’t find it in me to care tonight.
Throughout my hockey career, the one thing I’ve always done right is look after my body, but tonight, I’m punishing it.
The bartender shrugs and walks away, and I refill my glass, setting the bottle down with a thud before downing the shot. The liquor burns as it glides down into my stomach, strong enough to numb some of the anger I still feel from the game earlier.
It was fucking humiliating to be sat on that bench, all padded up, knowing that Coach had zero intention of calling my name. The smirk on my captain’s face said it all, along with the rest of the team. They got exactly what they wanted, and so did Curtis Freeman.
And the kicker? The team actually played well tonight.
I huff out a laugh into the darkened bar; only the bartender and another guy a couple of tables away are witnesses to my spiral. It’s like the entire team waited until I got dropped and then all came together to put in their best performance of the season against one of the league favorites, Colorado.
They want me out of the team, out of Brooklyn, out of hockey altogether.
Hellion
Yeah, that’s right. I fucked a guy just so I could get ahold of his phone and screw you over.
With numbing lips and clumsy fingers, I snatch up my phone and type out a response.
Me
You have a history of fucking players and throwing me under the bus. Well, congratulations because I think you just put the final nail in my coffin.
Hellion
I don’t care about you enough to go to all that effort. Sorry to break it to you.
A slow smile creeps across my lips.
Me
Where are you?
Hellion
Heading home. It’s been a day.
Me
I thought you’d be out celebrating. You just won a key game and actually played pretty well from what I saw.
