Page 74 of Riding Pine
“Okay. Thanks for not ripping me a new one over it.”
He chuckles at my word choice. “There’s no point in yelling. What’s done is done. Just promise me you’ll keep your head down and out of trouble going forward.”
“I will.”
He stands to leave and pats me on the shoulder as he passes.
Once Coach is gone, I finish my drink and head back to my room. Burnsy is still awake, scrolling on his phone. He sits up when I enter.
“You’re in one piece, so that’s a good thing.”
Tossing my suit jacket on a chair, I shrug. “It went better than I thought.”
“But….”
“I’m benched until he looks into it.” I sit on my bed before flopping back.
“Fuck. That sucks, Piney. I’m sorry.”
“Me too. But I get it. I just have to hope this is a temporary thing and I’ll be back before long.”
It feels like an impossible task to undress and move under the covers for sleep. I’ve let my teammates down and maybe even Ben, too. I finally have it all, and now I might lose it because I jumped without looking.
“Lukas,” Burnsy calls softly, and I turn my head. “Get some sleep.”
“Yeah.”
He powers off his phone and switches off the lamp before I’ve even removed myself from the bed. I slip out of my clothes and slide under the covers to the soft sounds of Burnsy snoring.
This road trip will be the longest of my life.
It’s weird not dressing for the game and being in the room with the guys at the same time. It’s not like I have an injury they know about. That would make things easy.
More than once, I’ve gotten some side-eye, but nobody has come right out to ask what’s going on. Until Evans opens his fucking mouth.
“Were you benched for a reason, Pine? Breaking rules or something we should know about? Not very captainly, is it?”
Burnsy glares. “Shut the fuck up, Evans. Don’t start spreading rumours.”
“It’s not a rumour if it’s true.” Evans spits.
A few of the guys around us pause and listen. Burnsy presses his lips together, and I know he wants to come to my defence, but he’s not supposed to know what’s going on either. Being my friend and roommate, though, he knows far more than he should.
Instead, I stand and stare down at Evans. “I’m a healthy scratch. That’s all it is. This team is more than strong enough without me to win a game. Right, boys?”
A chorus of agreement sounds, and I nod to Evans. “I’ll still be here watching. Give ’em hell for me!”
The team heads out of the visitors’ locker room towards the ice until it’s only me and Evans.
“Some captain you are,” he sneers, slapping his helmet on and walking past me. “You’re right, though. We don’t need you to win.”
As the door closes behind him, I let my chin drop. That’s what I’m afraid of.
My phone buzzes halfway through the second period.
Ben:Are you not playing tonight?
I know he listens to a streamed broadcast for most away games, and I didn’t tell him prior because I didn’t know what to say. I’m not sitting in a private box or anything; this arena is rather old and doesn’t have that, so I can’t just call him to explain from my seat either. It’s not the kind of information I want to deliver over text either.
