Page 24 of Until We Burn
KAI
You’ll never make it to the NHL like this.
You’re too damn weak and slow.
They have so many draft picks to choose from. Why would they want a player like you?
My jaw tenses. I keep the puck close as I skate with it towards the orange cone. I circle around it fast, my blades kicking up ice. I skate backwards. I wind around the cone placed on the opposite side. I do this again and again until stark figure eights swirl between the cones.
If you worked harder, people would believe in your performance on the ice.
I grit my teeth, pushing forward and curving sharp around the first cone, drawing the puck with me.
They doubt you because you don’t do enough to hone your skills.
I whirl back around the second cone. My breath trembles, a numbness muddying my head. The puck wriggles uncontrollably against my stick.
Face it. You’re not fucking good enough.
My skates knock into the cone. I stumble and skid back, dropping to the ice.
“Shit!”
My hockey stick clatters to the ice. The fluorescent lights glare down at me, searing my eyes. I slip my hand out of my gloves and run a hand over my sweaty face. The clock on the scoreboard slightly blurs as I do, before I blink back up and watch the neon red numbers shift back into focus.
9:42 p.m.
The minute my strategic management class ended, I came to the Balfur Arena to work on my agility. I’ve been doing this since the fallout in first year because it was the only way to shut out the voices in my head.
But they’re a little louder tonight.
I skate towards the player’s bench to take a swig of water. That’s when I decide to be brave and check my phone for the angry leave-the-rink-and-come-home text from Rowan. But this time, another notification catches my attention.
It’s an email from Diana.
[email protected], I know I’m not your favorite person at the moment. But unfortunately, Mellonbaum wants us to work on the midterm project together. I’ve attached the instructions and rubric down below. To make sure we can get this done, I’m proposing to work on the bulk of the project while you can focus on the aspects of the presentation. That way, you can prepare for the game, and we barely need to cross paths.
I roll my eyes and tap on the instructions to skim through the document. My brows furrow, wondering if Diana and I read the same document.
I instantly email her back.
[email protected], the research and analysis is too much for one person to handle. I’m perfectly fine with giving you a hand in that section of the project.
She responds a minute later.
[email protected] don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.
[email protected] give you four days until you crack.
[email protected] four? How little you think of me.
My fingers tighten on my phone. She’s not even here, yet I can hear her voice as if she is. Baiting me. Testing all the patience in my bones.
I sigh, raking my hand through my hair. As angry as I am, I still feel bad about lashing out at her. I was just so stressed and anxious at being shredded apart by her entire family. But a part of me also knows it doesn’t matter how I act. Someone like Diana Huang will never respect me.
I skate back onto the ice. I drag a puck towards me, nudging it still before shooting it into the net.
If Diana doesn’t want me to help her? Fine. I’m done trying to win her favor.
