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“Sorry, Coach,” I mumbled.
“Get off the ice,” he hissed, and I stopped skating.
I hopped over the boards and took a seat, feeling Coach’s presence looming behind me.
“Renshaw.” My name was not a yell. It wasn’t a curse or demand.
Taking a breath, I turned to look at him. Coach was resting against the glass, arms crossed, jaw moving. Surprisingly, he didn’t look mad. He looked…concerned?
“Why don’t we have a chat after practice?” he asked.
It was actually worded as a question, and delivered as one too.
I wanted to say no, because then I would miss getting to talk to Jessa, something I hadn’t been able to do in two weeks. I knew the Power Play deadline was coming up, so she had a lot on her plate, but I was being a selfish prick.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
Coach essentially benched me for the rest of practice. I was out for a few minutes, but I played so poorly, I was drawn off the ice.
I didn’t have to check for Jessa in the stands. If my performance was any indication, my lucky charm was no longer here.
I stayed on the bench when practice was over, watching my teammates pass me and head toward the changeroom, but I remained. Waiting. For Coach to tell me I was being an idiot.
Coach followed the team out, and I wondered if I should have gone as well, but I didn’t. He could come get me if he wanted.
A few minutes later, Coach returned and took a seat next to me on the bench. I peered over, and almost laughed at the sight of him lacing up a pair of skates.
“Come on,” he coaxed when he was laced up. “Let’s skate this out.”
I almost rolled my eyes. Great. So now I got extra work because I couldn’t focus on the game. I stood and followed Coach onto the ice, waiting for him to tell me what to do, but he skated away.
He started skating laps. Around and around, slow, and lax. I watched him for a few laps before I realized he wanted me to join him. So, I did.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I replied honestly.
“You know I want you to do well, right? I ride you hard because you can take it. I push you hard because you listen. I adjust because you make the changes you need. Last season was your best, Renshaw. I don’t want to see you here next year.”
“Thanks,” I scoffed.
“I don’t want to see youhere.” He pointed at the ice below us. “I want to see you on the big screen, tearing it up with the Serpents. I don’t want you getting comfortable with being an AHL wonder boy.”
“I know,” I sighed.
“So…what is it, then? What’s got you skating like a toddler their first time on the ice? Shoulder bugging you?”
“Nah,” I muttered, instinctively working my shoulder joint in a circle, back and forth.
There was no way that Jessa was my lucky charm and also my downfall. She could never be my downfall. A distraction, maybe, but not my downfall…
“A girl, huh?” Coach Wilkens guessed, and when I didn’t reply, he made a noise. “Local?”
“Yep.”
“If you waste your shot over a girl, you’re not the player I thought you were.”
“I’m not going to waste my shot.”
