Page 14 of Puck It

“It’ll be good to be out there.” And it will. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for weeks. It used to seem so far away, even impossible. At my lowest moments, I was sure I would never be here again. Fully dressed, ready to get out there and win one.

If only I wasn't so unsure of what the hell is going on with the coach.

If only Harlow were here. In those fantasies of mine, Harlow is always cheering me on from the seats behind the bench. Never once did I imagine her not being here. Now, she's at home, probably watching some gruesome serial killer documentary and demolishing a bag of Doritos or something.

While the three of us get to skate around like nothing happened.

If only he would say something. Anything. If only he would acknowledge what happened and why Harlow isn't here. We know he knows. He has to know we know he knows. It's damn confusing, downright baffling. Never knowing where we stand with him. Or if today is the day he's going to go public with what he knows.

So yeah, I'm not exactly feeling confident by the time everybody's dressed in the final minutes before we head out of the locker room.

“Hey, Coach.” The crowd of excited, maybe nervous players parts as Coach Kozak enters the room. Nobody would ever know he's carrying a secret. I can't believe it takes conscious effort to smile the way everybody else is, when what I want to do is call him out. Not that I want to start trouble or anything, but I would like some answers.

When I exchange a glance with Soren, it's obvious I'm not the only one. He looks puzzled, almost angry. And Ryder? I hope he realizes he looks like he wants to start a fight. He needs to fix his face if he doesn't want shit to blow up a couple of minutes before the game starts.

“Here we are.” Coach sets down his clipboard, then removes his ball cap and runs a hand over his thinning hair. “I have to tell you, I wondered for a while there if I'd ever see all of us together again. It takes an injury like the one Ash sustained to put things in perspective and remind a coach how fragile our lives are. We can't afford to take anything for granted.”

I glance to my left, then to my right, and I see nothing but plain adoration. I'm not saying the man doesn't make a good point, but there's still an elephant in the room he doesn't have the balls to address.

“I've watched you men work harder than I've ever seen a team work. These past several months have been some of the most challenging and rewarding of my career. I have had the privilege and the pleasure of watching you as you begin living up to your potential. That has to be the toughest thing for a coach, when you know your players have it in them to be winners, only they're not working up to their potential. But you finally are. I don't want you to forget that when you go out there today. You have it in you to win. You know what it takes. Each game is its own battle, but when you walk out of a locker room knowingyou have what it takes to win that battle, you're already halfway there. And I know you have it in you to put another win in the books today. You're going to show this entire league what you're made of by the time this season's over. And damn it, I am so proud to be your coach, I can hardly stand it. Now get out there and prove me right by believing in yourselves and believing in each other. Can you do that for me?”

Two dozen voices answer in unison. “Yes, Coach.”

I was one of those voices. How could I not be? But my response wasn't quite as loud as the others.

Does he really believe his own bullshit? I have no doubt he means it when he says he's proud of us. But for fuck’s sake, the one person most responsible for the way we've turned things around isn't here, and he hasn't said a word about her. It's like she never existed. Like now that he has the team he's always wanted, he can leave her living in limbo for the rest of her life.

As much as I want to see us win—and I do, that will never change—I would hate to think the coach is covering up what went down for the sake of keeping things moving smoothly around here. I don't want to succeed by sacrificing Harlow. Is this why they tell you to be careful what you wish for? Because I want a championship, but it'll feel pretty damn hollow if Harlow is the price required.

Snap out of it. I have a responsibility not only to myself but to the team. All of that needs to be set aside right now, especially if I'm going to keep myself healthy out there. No more letting my demons get in the way.

It takes all of three seconds for my nerves to dissipate. Muscle memory is no joke, and it carries me through even when I'mfeeling awkward and slow. But once the game gets moving and there’s no time to overthink anything, I fall right back into my old groove. The less I think about what I'm doing, the better I play.

Is that what I needed to learn? To stop overthinking? There had to be an easier way for me to arrive at that conclusion, but we don't get to decide how life lessons will show up.

By the time the final buzzer sounds, we're up two goals to one. It's a rush, especially considering I didn't think I'd ever play again. As my teammates huddle together and celebrate while the crowd roars its approval, only one thought repeats in my head.I'm never going to take this for granted again.

But damn it, she's not here. I wanted her to see me win this game, but she won't step foot in the building. And there's the coach, beaming, laughing, clapping us on the back as we head to the locker room. He's on top of the world. He has what he wanted; a winning team that plays cohesively, a team where we back each other up and balance each other out. A team that believes it can win.

Right now, I feel like it's all built on a lie.

It's clear to me by the time we’re showered and dressed that I need to have a talk with Ryder and Soren. This has gone on long enough. It's time to put everything on the table and find out what the coach is thinking.

Not just for Harlow's sake, either, but for all of us.

11

RYDER

Iwish I could share in the excitement all around me. The sort of goodwill that spreads through a locker room after a win. It's like I'm here, but I'm also far away, observing everything around me while I finish getting dressed after my shower. I’m sore from head to toe and worn the hell out, but that's nothing new. I'd rather be worn out after a win than after a loss. It always feels worse, for obvious reasons.

But my cheerful grin is empty. It takes effort to force it onto my face. I don't want the rest of the team knowing something's going on, hence the reason I'm working so hard to hide my feelings. It's freaking exhausting. Like living a double life, almost. There are people in this world who do that kind of thing for a living, like spies and whatnot. I don't know how they manage it.

My heart might as well be dragging on the floor. That's how it feels to walk around with all of this weighing on me. The sight of Ash or Soren still makes me grind my teeth—it would have been nice, having a little solidarity among us when Harlow was suffering. She still is, too. The little bit of information I get fromher is always edged with sadness. Ash said she's basically living in bed.

And here we are, celebrating a win. She might not have been out there with us, but she was just as responsible as anybody else on the team. We can't even thank her. Pretty soon, there's going to be questions—there already are, but everybody's accepted the coach's excuse so far. She's on a leave of absence.

How much longer will that be a good enough excuse?

---