Page 79 of The Game
My insides are a puddle of mush. He’s got to stop saying things like that or I’ll never be able to move on. Our conversation about the future was a stark reminder that this might not last, even if I’m starting to think that I could stay with him forever.
Chapter 28
Game Misconduct
Cole
I drag myself outof bed, not looking forward to the day ahead. I’ve got my “date” from the bachelor auction today. My stomach feels like a churning cement mixer full of guilt and frustration at the thought of spending a second of alone time with her. There’s a sour taste at the back of my throat that leaves me uninterested in breakfast. At least I have practice first. That’ll help take my mind off my impending doom.
I’ve hardly had enough time with Jazz this week either. Seeing her in passing between classes and for brief snatches of food before one of us is rushing off is not enough to get my Coffee Girl fix. I actually ordered a pumpkin spice latte from All Capps the other day, hoping it would make me feel closer to her, but it wasn’t the same, and just left me lonelier.
She’s been working on finishing up her report for the charity event, as well as other class projects, and I’ve been balls deep inessays and hockey. I’ve been running the same drills with Hail so much that I’m passing pucks in my dreams.
“Man, you look exhausted. Better down some fuel before we hit the ice, or coach is going to work you twice as hard.” I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. He’s right. Coach’s solution if you show up for practice tired is to double your laps. He always assumes that if you’re too tired to show up for him, then you’re screwing around, drinking or fucking. Not that maybe you’re pulling all nighters to finish an assignment or that you don’t sleep as well as usual when you can’t have your girl in your bed.
“I’ll try to pretend.”
“You do that. Now eat up.” He slaps me on the back, steering me in the direction of the kitchen.
I grab a ride with Beau and Dev, because I don’t think I’m in any condition to drive, and he squeals into a parking spot with little concern for his brakes or tires. He’s barely jammed his car into park when I’m leaping out, snagging my bag out of the trunk and slinging it over my shoulder.
I haven’t even had time to strip my shirt off when coach walks in, eyes on me. My stomach twists at the serious look on his face.
“Schaeffer, my office, now.”
Dread leaves my hands numb and a little shaky, but I head to his office. He’s sitting there with Assistant Coach Jones and they’ve both got deadly serious looks on their faces.
“We’ve had a complaint about you, Schaeffer, and as per the athletic department’s policy, we are required to investigate.”
“A complaint?” My mind races through our last few games, looking for something, anything, that could be worthy of a complaint. A check that could have caused injury. A hit that was too hard. Some kind of rule violation. But I come up empty. I’ve been squeaky clean since I joined the Lightning. I’ve never been a bruiser, but my old team had a tendency to play a bit on the dirty side sometimes. Skating on the edge of legal, but still a bit dirty. I didn’t embrace it, but made the occasional move, as per my coach’s request. Not now though. I’ve been a freaking angel, because I literally can’t afford any mistakes.
“Yes, from a Darryl Lawrence. Sound familiar.”
Shit, shit, shit. A vivid picture of my fist slamming into that asshole’s face comes flooding back to me. “Yes, I did punch him, but I had a very good reason.”
“There is no excuse for punching anyone ever. Until you get to the pros. Then you might have to play to the crowd and take the gloves off sometimes. People like to see a little blood on the ice now and again, but until then it’s a hard no. Especially for you.”
“I brought you onto this team with a level of trust you hadn’t earned, but I understand the circumstances surrounding that incident. I’ve always genuinely thought you weren’t in thewrong on that occasion, but now. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe you bear more responsibility than I originally allowed for. And with that past, you’ve got no leeway.”
“He was harassing my girlfriend. He showed up at her house and if I hadn’t walked in, who knows what could have happened? She could have been hurt.” I’m so agitated I’m tearing at my hair. Thinking of what he could have done to her has my blood pressure rising and my stomach roiling. I can’t believe I’m here again. Defending myself. And in the last situation, I take full responsibility. I was angry, and I let my anger get the better of me, but this. He could have hurt her, and I’m not going to lie. I would do it all over again. Figures that ass wipe would tattle on me, though. What a douche bag. Not even man enough to stand up for himself. He has to squeal on me to my coach. Put my entire career on the line. All because he’s not man enough to be able to take no for an answer.
My hand is trembling and all I want to do is slam it into his desk, but that move. That would get me nowhere. All it would do is make things worse for me.
“So, what does this mean?”
“You’re benched for our next game pending the investigation. If you can prove some sort of wrongdoing on his part, I might be able to get you out of this after that, but let me tell you, it’s not looking good for you right now.”
It takes everything inside me to keep calm, not blow up on coach. It’s not his fault, but why won’t he even hear me out? He should stand up for me too, and more importantly, Jazz.
“You can’t do this to me. I’ve had enough setbacks. If I’m not out there proving myself, it could end my career before it starts. I need to be out on the ice. Every game counts.” If my career is over, all my dreams of helping my siblings through college are gone. Helping my dad escape the endless grind of multiple jobs that’s aging him way too fast. That’s gone too.
“I’m sorry, Schaeffer. My hands are tied. The athletics department has a zero-tolerance policy for violence.”
“I’ll figure this out. I’ll fix it. I promise. I can’t lose this.” Everybody in my life is counting on me. From my family to Beau and my teammates. I can’t let that asshole take everything from me. “Can I at least stay for practice? I need the ice time.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. You can’t be here until this is resolved. Go home, get some rest, and see if you can figure this out. Let me know as soon as you have something for me.”
The thump of my head hitting my hands on the desk doesn’t even startle me. I don’t look up when I hear the shuffling sounds of both my coaches getting up to leave.