35
For the Love of the Game
Is it bad that whenever an adult asks to talk to me, I instantly start to think about what it is I could have done. No matter who it is, it's like you're being asked to talk to the principal. The only thing worse than that is getting a lecture from my mom.
Maybe it's a good thing I'm not the only one that Coach Orion has asked to meet with him. At least in that case, there'd be enough witnesses to whatever it is he's got planned for us. No matter what the reason was, it's always good to be around my friends.
Charlie tightly gripped the plastic cup in his hand wondering when it was that he could make his escape from the Orion house. Surprisingly, the place wasn't as dark and depressing as he imagined it would be. He wasn't surprised at how big the place was, with how many professional games he had taken part of, the guy could certainly afford a pretty extravagant place.
"You think because he doesn't have any pictures of his family up it could mean he's a psychopath?" Averman asked in a low voice from where he sat on the floor.
"Shut up, Averman," Julie groaned, smoothing the end of her skirt out across her legs.
"What?" Averman asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "I mean, think about it, whenever someone goes crazy, there are always those people who talk about how the person seemed so normal before he snapped." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that."
Charlie snorted. "It would explain a lot, that's for sure," he muttered. He glanced around the room for the umpteenth time from the shelves of books, to the matching furniture, to the pillows lined neatly on the seat of the bay window leading to the front yard. "I thought being in a teacher's house was weird, but this is just creepy."
"His house is pretty nice," Connie said before leaning over her paper plate, carefully taking a bite out of the cracker she held in her hand.
Living in this area of town, Charlie wasn't too surprised, but it was more of the fact that Coach Orion was open to having them all in his house for a team party that was really creepy. There were no put downs, no loud stern talks, and Charlie was sure he saw a hint of a smile (which looked more like a grimace) when he was greeted at the door.
"Kind of big for one person, though," Guy commented, his nose wrinkling.
Charlie shrugged, moving the rim of his cup to his lips. Taking a big gulp of his Hawaiian Punch, he looked around at his other former teammates. They were all sitting around the living room on the floor, in chairs, or on fold out chairs. Normally, they would all be talking and laughing and enjoying each other's company, but now they were strangely quiet. In between making sure they didn't spill any food or drinks there were just pauses of silence.
Eerily so.
Especially since Portman wasn't there with the group. Fulton sat off to the side more to himself, looking even more down than Charlie had ever seen him. Having gone back to join the Ducks in their more recent games, he seemed to have his spirits lifted. As he said, he could "deal" with Coach Orion being as demanding as he always was, and he seemed to be doing pretty well with it. Until they had all found out that Portman wouldn't be continuing to play.
The whole team was going to shambles; why would Charlie choose to go back to it? Why was he even here?
He quickly finished his drink before getting to his feet. "I'll be right back," Charlie mumbled, heading into the kitchen. Letting out a heavy sigh, he stepped over towards the punch bowl sitting on the kitchen counter.
"You ok?" Charlie took his time filling up his cup before he faced Coach Bombay who was staring out the kitchen window into the backyard. Lifting his own cup of punch to his mouth, Coach Bombay took a long sip, keeping his eyes on the young hockey player. "Since Hans…and everything?" He smacked his lips, the red beverage staining his upper lips just slightly. "I haven't asked."
"Hard to do when you're not around, don't you think?" Charlie asked, countering Coach Bombay's curiosity with a blasé tone.
"I deserve that," Coach Bombay said, his eyebrows twitching upwards. "I can't say that I left without your interests at heart, though." Charlie scoffed, shaking his head. "As long as you've known me, have I ever lied to you? I may have kept information from you, from all of you, but I've never lied to you."
Charlie closed his open mouth. Jutting out his chin, he gave a slight nod of his head. As mad as he was at his ex-coach, he knew Coach Bombay was telling him the truth. There hadn't been one instance since he first met the guy where he was lied to. Was he taught how to cheat in games? Yes. Were they terrorized by Captain Blood? Sure. Despite all that, and any name that Charlie may have mentally called him, the word "liar" was never uttered or thought.
"So, I'm not going to lie to you when I tell you that I'm not ok, either," Bombay replied. Charlie made a humming sound in the back of his throat. Of course, everything would be made about him. "I got in way over my head at my job in California, and I turned back to drinking to deal with it." He made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Or avoid it as the case may be."
"Wait…" Charlie said, blinking in surprise. "Your drinking was what caused you to get that DUI in the first place."
"That's correct." Coach Bombay nodded his head. "And I'm not proud of it."
"What about when we were at the Junior Goodwill Games?" Charlie asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Coach Bombay shook his head from side to side. "So Captain Blood wasn't your withdrawal alter ego or something?" Charlie's eyes narrowed when Coach Bombay started laughing. "It's not funny."
"You're right, it's not," Coach Bombay agreed. He set down his punch and crossed his arms over his chest, stepping closer to Charlie. "There is nothing funny about depending on alcohol. No, I was way too busy trying to make that Bombay Loafer to get drunk. That's not to say I didn't have a lot of opportunities."
"Why did you even start drinking in the first place?" Charlie asked.
"Stress relief," Coach Bombay instantly replied. "As I got older, growing up without my dad, it really stuck out that he wasn't around. He wasn't there for the big moments of my life so I had to do what I could to help mom. Hans was there to help out of course, but I didn't want him to have to do so much for us." His lips lifted just slightly. "Without him, though, I never would have gotten into Eden Hall, law school, or even my position at Ducksworth Saver & Gross."
He laughed quietly a second time. " It's why I never wanted him to know I had that problem. But, you know how Hans is; he found out and he wasn't happy about it. That's part of the reason why I took the position at the Junior Goodwill Games. I didn't want him to know I had started drinking again." There was silence as he sucked in a deep breath of air before it was broken with his long sigh. "I also didn't want to be around with his health deteriorating so much. I couldn't watch it."
"Oh." Charlie bowed his head before shifting his gaze over to the window. "You knew Hans was sick?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't say anything?"
"None of us wanted you kids to worry," Coach Bombay replied. "We thought we had more time to convince him to go see a doctor but he had already made up his mind." Charlie heard him let out a second sigh. "I felt so guilty that I wasn't here helping to take care of him. He talked me into taking the job, but I still felt guilty. I felt guilty for leaving and guilty for wanting to stay away."
"You didn't seem to have any problem leaving us behind," Charlie commented.
"That was the hardest part about it, Charlie." Charlie snorted. "I'm serious. I really thought I was leaving you in great hands with Coach Orion."
"Ha." Charlie's lips parted into a mocking smile. "That's funny."
"There was no one else I thought could teach you the game better than him," Coach Bombay explained. Offering up no other explanation, Charlie turned his gaze from the window and found Coach Bombay staring back at him. "Ted really knows what he's talking about."
"He doesn't talk, he shouts," Charlie protested. "He never gives any of us a break."
"I was surprised to hear you quit, Charlie," Coach Bombay commented. "If there was anyone I was sure could learn a lot from Ted, it was you." Charlie shook his head and Coach Bombay lifted his eyebrows. "Oh, you don't believe me?"
"No," Charlie replied, evenly.
"Hmmm." Coach Bombay pressed his lips together for a moment. "Follow me." He used his hand to beckon Charlie to follow him. Charlie hesitated for a moment before he set down his plastic cup and followed his former coach. "I'm not supposed to show you this, but I'll take all the flack later for it."
Charlie slid his hands into his pants pockets, annoyed that he even had to dress up so much in the first place. Stepping over the wooden flooring, which creaked with each step, he shuffled behind Coach Bombay up the stairs by the front door and onto the second level of the house. It looked just as clean and spacious as the lower level did. Even more noticeable, everything up here was all hardwood flooring as well. No carpets.
Coach Bombay opened the first door to the right of the stairs. "Come here, Charlie," he said quietly. Twisting his mouth to the side, Charlie stepped across the landing and peered into the open door of the very pink bedroom. Eyebrows knitted together, Charlie gazed at the stack of dolls in the corner, to the frills on the canopy above the bed, and over to the drawings hanging up on the wall. "When I talked to Ted about taking the position of coach for you guys, he didn't want to do it at first. He wanted to make sure he could provide for his daughter and a coach's salary couldn't do a lot. So, I talked Dean Buckley into helping with their medical expenses and transportation in the event of an emergency. Ted has a lot on his plate but he still chose to partake in his favorite sport."
Briefly closing his eyes, Charlie felt like he was punched in the stomach. "What happened to her?" he asked quietly.
"He was out partying with his team one night after a win and his ex-wife had an emergency and needed him to take their daughter for a few days," Coach Bombay explained, leaning against the door jamb. Charlie leaned against the opposite side, watching his coach's profile. "He was distracted at the wheel, coming off the high of the win, and there was an accident, and now she's going to be in a wheel chair for the rest of her life."
"Oh my god," Charlie whispered.
"Since then, fun hasn't exactly been in his vocabulary," Coach Bombay explained and Charlie held back a snort. That was for sure. Ted Orion and the word "fun" didn't ever go anywhere near each other. "Since that night, his focus has always been on his daughter and providing for her. It's why he stayed behind instead of moving with his team to Texas. He wanted to keep her comfortable in the environment she was already used to."
"But…that doesn't mean that he can treat us like he does," Charlie protested. He knew he was grasping at straws. He felt like a jerk knowing what he knew now about the man. It wasn't like he expected Coach Orion to give his team his life story from the beginning, but he should have known that being a hard ass wasn't going to get him anywhere either. He could at least show that he cared. "It sucks."
"I can agree that Ted Orion can go overboard with how he treats you, but not every coach you work with will coach you how I did," Coach Bombay said, with a small frown. "Maybe I was too easy on you guys. I was too busy having fun instead of teaching you what a real game of hockey was played."
"All that fun was helped us get to where we were, Coach," Charlie protested. "We wouldn't have gotten anywhere without your help."
"I appreciate that, Charlie," Coach Bombay said, turning to face his friend. "But I know in some instances, my teachings have let you all down. Because of that, I know Coach Orion was the best choice to teach you all how to play the game." He lifted an eyebrow and scratched at his jaw. "Actually, from a player's standpoint, I'm surprised you don't agree."
"How do you mean?" Charlie asked.
A hint of a smile came to Coach Bombay's face. "Do you remember that game I took you all to back in Pee Wees?" he asked.
"Where we met Basil McRae and Mike Modano, yeah," Charlie replied with a nod of his head. "Basil was the one who gave you a shot in the minors." Coach Bombay pressed his lips together, the corners lifting up into a smile. Charlie blinked, a small gasp slipping past his lips. "That was his game. Coach Orion was playing in the game that day."
"Exactly," Coach Bombay replied. "So you can see why I thought he would be a good fit for you guys?" He tilted his head to the side. "I know you can learn something from him, if you would just give him a chance."
"The guy took away my 'C'," Charlie muttered. He felt silly as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "It was like he was taking away everything we had worked for, and accomplished and wanted us to change into something we weren't."
"Or maybe he was trying to build on top of what you already knew," Coach Bombay explained. "Maybe he wanted to see who could step forward when times got tough and really band everyone together. After what I had told him about you, I can't say I wouldn't take your C away, too."
"What?" Charlie asked, taken aback.
"Charlie, he took the name 'captain' away from you," Coach Bombay replied quietly. "I think Guy or Adam has every right to go by that title as well." He shrugged his shoulders. "What I think happened once you all got here, and saw how different things were, you all lost your confidence."
Charlie bowed his head, scratching the back of his neck. It was hard to be confident at a place like Eden Hall where everybody had better clothes than you did, better equipment, and had no problem letting you know about it. The second he had set foot on Eden Hall's campus, he was told he didn't belong there. It was bad enough he already felt that way, but to have it be confirmed over and over again was hard to sit through.
"That's ok," Coach Bombay continued in Charlie's silence. "Everyone loses their confidence sometimes. It's how you bounce back that's impressive." Charlie lifted his head and found Coach Bombay's intense gaze on him. "You all weren't the best team the Pee Wee league had seen, but you gained your confidence back and ended up winning. You can do that again now."
"Really?" Charlie asked.
"Really." Coach Bombay reached out a hand and clapped Charlie on the shoulder. "I know you all can do it. I know you can do it, Charlie." He gently squeezed Charlie's shoulder. "It might take a miracle, but I know it can happen. Because I believe you were the real 'Minnesota Miracle Man', Charlie. Not me." Charlie nodded his head, shaking out the tears that suddenly pooled in his eyes. He sniffed as his hot tears burned trails down his cheeks and then pulled Coach Bombay towards him in a hug. "I really am sorry you all have had a hard time here."
"It's 'kay," Charlie replied, his throat thick.
"But," Coach Bombay said as he stepped back, an amused smile on his face, "I've heard it hasn't been too hard? There was something about the Varsity players turning orange?"
Charlie laughed. "It's a long story," he said. Shoving his hand into the bottom of his shirt, he used his hem to wipe at his eyes. "A long story."
"We've got time," Coach Bombay said quietly. He closed Coach Orion's daughter's bedroom door before moving to sit on the top step of the staircase.
"We wouldn't have gotten back at them if they didn't start the chocolate fight to begin with," Charlie said, dropping onto the step next to him.
"Chocolate fight?" Coach Bombay's eyebrows lifted. "I think you better start at the beginning."
Ted massaged his temples as he paced back and forth in the dining room. This get together was a bad idea. What with everyone on his team practically eating him out of his home (which he should have seen coming what with the team being made up mainly by young men), and the silence from said hockey players, he wasn't sure how much longer he would last. Even the strongest guy would crack eventually under the right circumstances.
This was the wrong time, though. Just when it seemed like everything was starting to turn around, he had to end up being the bad guy again. First his team was mad at him for allowing Adam and Guy to be given to the Varsity team, then he was the cause for having some players quit, and when they were finally coming back, he had to tell them it was all for nothing. But no one was going to blame Eden Hall, they were going to blame him.
"This is my team now," he had said to Coach Bombay after the younger man tried to give him some advice, "I know how to handle them." But he didn't know how to navigate through politics. It wasn't his forte. He was a hockey player first and last. Maybe it was time to have someone with some Eden Hall know-how to help him out.
"I understand that," Coach Bombay had said, nodding his head. "It's just hard to let go sometimes."
"I know." And he did know. It was hard to watch his team leave to go to Texas leaving him behind. It was hard to take on the sole responsibility of childcare by himself. It was hard to leave the sport behind. It was harder to juggle work and any emergency that could come up at any second, but it was his life now.
"Hey." Ted jumped when he heard Gordon's voice from behind him. "I just talked to Charlie." Gordon gave Ted a grimace of apology for scaring him. "I think he understands things a bit more. I know you wanted to be the one to explain to him what was going on in your life—"
"It's ok." Ted lifted a hand in the air before he dropped it to his side with a soft slap. "I think it's for the best." He paced a couple more laps before facing his fellow coach. "I still need to explain to them everything else, anyway. I think it's better if that at least comes from me."
"I agree." Gordon nodded his head. "Listen, I can still help you out if you want." His face scrunched up with uncertainty for a brief moment. "I haven't entirely forgotten everything I've learned."
"I think we are going to need to use you," Ted replied, nodding his head. "Dean Buckley had it out for Portman the minute he got onto campus."
"This whole team has been on his radar," Gordon pointed out to him. "What with the big press event and everything, I'm not too surprised." He shook his head back and forth. "Man, that school has changed a lot since I've been there."
What with all of the pranks and the fights, Dean Buckley had all the teachers reporting to him at every small ounce of things going wrong," Ted explained and Gordon lifted his eyebrows.
"Here I thought quacking at the principal was the worst thing they could do," he said quietly.
"…What?" Ted asked and Gordon chuckled.
"That's a story for a different time," Gordon replied, shaking his head back and forth. "I knew Dean Buckley was going to use this as a big publicity thing, which I have to commend them for, but I didn't know it would go this extent." He lifted his hands and brushed his hair back from his face.
"Neither did I," Ted replied. "Even if it went south, as these past actions have shown they think it has, they're going to easily cover it up somehow." He didn't know how he was so naive about everything surrounding the politics of the sport. Moving to Texas wasn't a big deal to him back in his prime; if it meant he could continue to play hockey, he'd go all the way to Antarctica. "They see that they have every reason to do this to the team, but they never gave them a chance to begin with."
"We can change that now," Gordon replied. A thoughtful look came to his face. "Leave it to me, I think I have an idea."
"Thanks." Ted blinked his appreciation.
"Sure." Gordon paused. "I just have to practice a bit, though. I'm pretty rusty."
"Don't worry about it," Ted replied. "Anything from you would be a big help."
Ted moved past the former Ducks coach before he reclaimed his seat in the living room. He picked at his food, trying to find a good time to address everyone. He speared a piece of strawberry, muttering under his breath as the prongs of his fork went through the piece of fruit and out the other end of his plate. Tossing his fork down onto the paper dishware, he gave up on trying to eat. There wasn't any point with how tightly his stomach was twisting with nervousness. Truth be told he wasn't hungry at all, just trying to keep himself busy instead of having to deliver any bad news.
He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of bad news.
When he was told his daughter would never be able to walk again and was in emergency surgery, he felt like he wanted to throw up and like every muscle in his body was tightly seizing all at one time. He was surprised his heart hadn't stopped upon the words spilling out of the doctor's mouth. Not that he could hear much with how loudly his heart was pounding, how loud the blood rushing in his ears were. Or maybe it was the sound of blood gushing out of the gash in his forehead.
It was all his fault. Everything leading up to the accident was his responsibility. He was the one dodging his ex-wife's calls. He was the one out drinking late one night with his friends after a win. He was the one who wanted to put his dad duties aside just for one night. It was his selfishness to have fun that made him get in the car that night and speed just to try and get back to a night of fun.
Fun. He didn't know how to have that much fun anymore. His daughter was great to bring him smiles and to help him relax after a tough day, but it was hard to ignore that wheelchair she was confined to. She didn't seem to have a problem with it, she always went around singing and smiling happily at him, and he tried to reciprocate that easygoing feeling. It was hard to do and he'll admit he took all the stress out on his hockey players.
"Hey!" Goldberg's voice called out from the kitchen. "Who ate the last bacon wrapped chicken? I called it!"
"You mean just like I called the rest of the peanut butter marshmallow crackers?" Russ shot back from where he was sitting on the floor with a plate full of grease stained toothpicks.
"I had to eat those, Danni was scarfing them down," Goldberg protested.
"He ran out of Oatmeal Crème Pies, ok," Danielle grumbled. She made it a point to take the cracker sandwich on her plate and shoving it into her mouth. She started talking around her chewing. "This guz a vast resort."
Last resort. Just like that hearing he had set up with the Dean and the school board coming up. Letting out a heavy sigh, Ted made up his mind. It was time to explain it all to his team. "Hey, listen up," he said, instantly getting everyone's attention. He cleared his throat, getting to his feet. "I know you all are wondering why I asked you to join me here today. Don't worry, you're not in trouble."
His lips twitched into a half smile. He could've sworn he could see his team letting out a collective sigh of relief, seeming to relax their postures at the comment. "But, I do have some bad news for you guys," he said. "I had recently received a phone call from Dean Buckley and, it seems, due to some recent events, and the outcomes of your most recent games, they're pulling your scholarships to Eden Hall."
"What does that mean?" Dwayne asked after a pause of silence.
"It means, we were just pawns being used to bring in money to the school," Averman replied, dryly. Dwayne silently looked over at Russ who rolled his eyes.
"It means, you'll be seeing those big blue skies of Texas real soon, my friend," Russ replied.
"So…what, we came all the way out here for nothing?" Ken asked, his nose wrinkled.
"Sure feels like it," Luis muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
"Don't beat yourselves up about this," Ted said in a firm tone. "None of this was your fault. They were the ones who didn't believe in you in the first place."
"It's not like you did either," Fulton spoke up, tilting his head backwards just slightly, lifting his chin in the air. "Huh? Ever since our first practice all you've done is try and change everything about us. Like there was nothing good about us to begin with."
"I'll admit we got off on the wrong foot," Ted said after a moment of silence. Still after all this time, he was taken aback from Fulton's ability to be brave enough to call anyone out on things he had a problem with. "But, I did believe that you all had the skills and abilities to go far in the sport otherwise I would have never agreed to coach you."
Snorts and mutters of "Yeah right" went around the room. He understood their disbelief, but there was something to be said when they decided to stick by him despite all that. Maybe because it was the only way for them to continue playing the sport. He wasn't sure.
"Is this why Portman isn't here?" Guy asked.
"No," Ted replied with a shake of his head. His gaze shifted over to Danielle who suddenly became interested in the swirling design of the wood flooring. She traced it with the pad of her index finger.
"Portman decided on his own not to come," Coach Bombay explained, speaking up for the first time since Ted started talking.
"Dean and everyone on the school board think you're a bad publicity stunt gone wrong," Ted explained. "It pains me to say it, but this sport isn't just a sport anymore." He looked each of his players in the eye. "Maybe you've all figured that out earlier than I did, but it's a good thing that you know. The board have been using their knowhow about the politics to try and get more money for the school and to have future players come to continue the streak of winning the titles for their hockey program."
"But, that's not fair," Connie complained.
"Exactly," Ted replied with a nod. "It's not fair. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to anyone else looking to play for Eden Hall, and this whole thing certainly doesn't feel fair for those JV players who were suddenly booted out of their spot to play this year." He twisted his mouth to the side. "Dean Buckley has said that you can stay through the rest of the semester. That has also been graciously offered to me. But, I told him that it was either you guys or me."
"So what are we going to do?" Julie asked.
Ted lifted an eyebrow. "Fight back of course," he replied. "Anyone can get into politics and it's not fair how they used you like they did. You're not just names on paper they can shuffle around, you're people." He relaxed his facial features and openly smiled. "But right now…how about we just go play some hockey? I'm tired of being cooped up in this place."
For the first time since setting foot in his home, he saw genuine smiles appear on his team's faces. Talking excitedly with each other and exchanging meeting times, he flagged Danielle down before she could make it out the door.
"Can we talk with you for a minute?" Gordon asked, closing the front door behind the other Ducks.
"Something tells me I don't have a choice," Danielle muttered, looking like she would either throw up on the spot (maybe the marshmallow and peanut butter combination wasn't that great) or wanted to be anywhere else than where she was standing.
"I know you haven't made the best decisions since attending Eden Hall," Ted said getting to the point, "but we're willing to work with you to fix it." Danielle looked back and forth between the two coaches, but stayed silent.
"Not just for you, but for your teammates," Gordon added.
A series of emotions (from fear, to anger, to helplessness, to sadI slid over Danielle's face before it stopped on stony. "And you were the one who was teaching us how to cheat to begin with," she said to Gordon. The corners of her lips lowered as if she regretted the words that came out of her mouth.
"Hey—"
"This isn't about what happened back in Pee Wees," Ted said, talking over Gordon. "It's about you and your team in this moment."
Closing her eyes, Danielle tilted her head back and groaned. Pressing on her temples with her fingertips she acknowledged the two coaches. "I didn't mean to break the rules," she admitted. "I just had to."
"How could you not 'mean' to do it?" Ted asked. "You knew what you were doing the whole time. It was a choice you made."
"I didn't have a choice," Danielle replied.
"There's always a choice, Danni," Gordon replied. "And you chose the wrong one. Even worse, you're letting your whole team down with Portman taking the fall for you."
"I didn't ask him to do that," Danielle protested.
"You didn't stop him and come clean either," Ted pointed out, "that's just as bad."
"This scholarship was the only way I could attend the school and I couldn't keep up with classes and work," Danielle explained. "Ok? It was just too hard to keep up with. "
"That's when you stop and ask us for help," Ted reminded her.
"I know what it's like to be too proud to ask for help," Gordon added. "People will keep giving you chances and then one day they won't be there to offer you the help or even decide to do it when you ask." He put his hands to his chest. "I've recently had to go through that. It's ok to ask for help when you need it. It's a dark place being alone and I know you don' want to be there."
"We're offering you help right now." Ted jabbed his index finger into the palm of his other hand. "The past doesn't matter in this moment. We're talking about going forward. What can we do to help you?"
"You just have to say it," Gordon added.
Danielle's shoulders dropped as she realized there was going to be no way out of the conversation. "I need money. My family needs money To help pay for my mom's medical bills." She opened her arms in a 'There, are you happy?' kind of way. "That's why I got the job in the first place. Then I was just so tired to keep up with anything. Work was the only thing that seemed important."
"Believe me, your education is just a important," Gordon said, placing his hands together. So is Portman's. Eden Hall can give you a great education if you let it."
"Hockey is just a game," Ted added, "just a sport. It took me way too long to realize that."
"Scooter had said that Dean Buckley helped you manage your bills for your daughter while working at the school," Danielle said as more of a question.
"I'm sure he'll be happy to help you too," Ted replied. He paused for a moment, remembering what he had just told his team. "Once we figure all this out, I mean. Dean Buckley isn't a bad guy. He wants to see everyone that walks through his halls succeed."
"He's going to kick me out now." Danielle shook her head, lifting her thumb to her mouth to chew on her nail. "I got called into his office before."
"We don't know what'll happen," Gordon reassured her. "We have to talk to him first, though."
"If you had come to me in the first place, I could've helped you before it got this bad," Ted said, his tone holding slight annoyance.
"You're not exactly the easiest person to come to," Danielle replied, kicking at the ground.
Ted crossed his arms over his chest. She did have a point. "I apologize for that," he admitted. "I know this semester hasn't been easy for any of you, but I'm looking to turn that around. We still have time to turn this around for you and for Portman and for everyone else. We still have the Varsity/JV showdown to play. Just say the word."
Danielle took in a big breath of air before letting it out. "If you're still offering it, I would appreciate and accept your help," she said, sounding like she was fighting to get each word out.
Ted smiled. "Let's go play some hockey first."
"Hey, bud. You ok?"
With a smack, the hockey puck Adam had thrown into the air landed in his palm a split second before he closed his fingers around the hard rubber. Sitting up in his bed, as carefully as he could as to not jostle his injured left hand as it laid on his stomach, Adam nodded towards his brother, Travis.
"You don't look ok," Travis commented as he crossed the carpet of Adam's bedroom to sit on the end of his bed.
"I'm fine," Adam replied, reaching behind him to adjust his pillows. "I think dad's taking it harder than I am to be honest." He gently touched his bandaged wrist and felt it throb under the touch. Luckily, he didn't hit himself hard enough to break his wrist, just sprain it for a second time.
The hospital trip was done in near complete silence. All his dad cared about was when was the earliest time he could get back on the ice to play in the showdown match. If it wasn't that, it was wondering how Adam had gotten injured in the first place (in which he explained it was due to a tough practice), and threatening to have a talk with Coach Wilson and the Varsity players on "roughing up" his son (to which Adam begged him not to say anything).
How would Phillip Banks handle knowing that his own son injured himself on purpose just to get some time away from the pressures of being on the Varsity team? How could Adam even begin to explain to anybody how lonely he felt, how he felt pressure from both his present and former hockey teams to be loyal to them. On top of all of that, his teachers were throwing quizzes, tests, papers, and projects at them left and right.
He knew Eden Hall was a prestigious school and was proud of its academic and athletic achievements, but he didn't know it was going to be that hard. To think, he was the reason why the entire Ducks team was there in the first place. He was the reason why they were all having a crappy time at the school.
Travis laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like him," he agreed. He peered closely at his brother, eyes squinted.
"What?" Adam put more bite into his question then he meant to.
"Come on, little brother, I can tell whenever you're not being yourself," Travis prompted. "I've seen you injured before; you'd be out playing in the driveway, anyway." He twisted his mouth to the side. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much to keep an eye on you."
"That's ok." Adam started throwing the hockey puck into the air again. After his third successful toss and catch, Travis grabbed the hockey puck out of the air. "Give it back."
"You know I always wondered how far I could've gone in hockey if I decided to stick with it," Travis mused aloud, flipping the hockey puck over in his hands. "Dad assumes I could've gone far. Just like he thinks the same of you." Adam stayed silent, cradling his wrist to his chest. He shifted his gaze up to the high ceiling of his room. "Sometimes I think he's pushing you so hard because I stopped playing."
"Yeah, maybe."
Travis lifted an eyebrow before throwing the hockey puck back at Adam. Lifting his non-injured hand, Adam easily snatched the hockey puck out of the air. "You're not upset about this injury at all, are you?" Travis asked. "It wasn't that long ago you were calling me from California upset that Bombay wouldn't play you."
"There were scouts out in California," Adam replied, pushing his eyebrows together. "Any scout that's going to look at the Varsity players won't be looking in my direction. Not with guys like Rick Riley on the team."
"Who says?" Travis asked. Adam snorted. "It's no small thing that you got pulled up at your age."
It's no coincidence either. He was sure his dad had something to do with it. Not that he could really prove it. Or maybe it actually was his talent that gave him the luxury of being picked for Varsity. Guy did get selected to move up too, after all.
"Why did you stop playing, anyway?" Adam asked
"Because it wasn't fun anymore," Travis replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Once I started doing two practices a day, it made it harder to find time to hang out with friends between that and games."
Adam grinned. "You mean it was hard for you to find time to spend with that girl," he teased. "What was her name? Holly?"
Travis rolled his eyes and gave his younger brother an annoyed look. "You know it's Heather."
"Ehh." Adam made a face, shrugging his shoulders. "I knew it was some kind of plant."
"Yeah, well, it was that and my focus was shifting more to the business side of things," Travis said, shaking Adam's leg. "But, I know you love the sport. Even more than I did at your age. You wore out every VHS we ever owned playing back every all star and championship match known to man. You've memorized players, stats, everything. Most importantly, you just loved to play."
"Yeah, well, not so much anymore," Adam said with a sigh. "It's not about the game, it's about who you know, and what you can get out of people." He swallowed, tightening his grip around the puck in his hand. He watched the blood leave his finger tips before it rushed back when he relaxed his grip. Reaching across his chest, carefully putting some weight on his elbow, he set the rounded piece of rubber onto his bedside table. "Hans has barely been gone and the guys expect me to bounce back. Dad, too."
"You know how dad is, he tries to avoid stuff like this. Pretend it doesn't exist," Travis explained. "Remember when grandpa got pneumonia and dad suddenly was assigned to that business venture overseas?" Adam's eyebrows lifted in surprise and Travis nodded his head. "Some people just don't know how to deal with death. Everyone grieves at different times." Adam snorted. He wasn't sure Rick would ever find the time to grieve at all. "I'm sorry I didn't make it back in time for his funeral."
"It was nice," Adam said, "as far as funerals go. The weather was good." Travis laughed. "What?"
"Now I know there's something bothering you," Travis teased. "Of all the topics in the world to talk about and you want to talk about the weather." Adam smiled. "You know this is me you're talking to?"
"I just feel bad that you came all the way out here to see me in the showdown game for nothing," Adam replied.
"Like I said, squirt, I know you," Travis said, reaching out a hand to muss Adam's hair. Making a face, Adam moved his head this way and that to try and keep away from his brother's hand. "Ah, I forgot, you're a grown man, now." His eyes gleamed. "So, who's the girl?"
"Stop," Adam groaned.
Travis pulled his hand back, putting both his hands up defensively in front of his chest. "Ok, ok," he replied. "But if I know you as well as I know I do, you'll do anything and everything you can to get back on the ice when that game comes around."
Adam let out a sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. "Not if you took yourself out in the first place," he replied. Travis's smile faded just slightly as a confused look came to his face. Adam lifted his injured hand in the air, carefully twisting it. "I did this on purpose."
"You told dad you took a hard check at practice," Travis said slowly. "Adam, you hurt yourself on purpose?" Adam set his gaze back on the ceiling but nodded his head. "At least when I beat you up as a kid, I didn't do it to give any lasting damage. Are you crazy?"
"No, I'm tired," Adam replied. "I'm tired of being yelled at, and I'm tired of my friends hating me, and I'm tired of dad trying to control my career before it even starts. I'm just tired."
"But that doesn't mean you give up, Adam," Travis protested. "You were born to play hockey. In fact, I've always been jealous of how naturally gifted you are at the sport. You've always been 10 times better than I ever could have been and I've always been proud of how much passion and love you've had for the game. Apart from now, I don't think I've ever heard you complain once. That's always impressed me."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't know that."
"Yeah, well, I can't let you get a big head about it, can I?"
Adam gave a wry smile. It'd at least match the rest of my body that shot up like a beanstalk over the years. He felt awkward in his body, but he knew it at least helped him on the ice. There was more of his body to use to protect the puck in play, but that also meant there was more space for his Varsity teammates to target. He had the bruises all over his body from being slammed into the boards enough times to prove it.
"Go on," Travis shoved him. "Just get some fresh air for a while."
"All right, all right," Adam said, carefully rolling out of bed. He grabbed his shoes and put them on as best he could with one hand. Once he was ready, he made his way down the stairs through the foyer and opened the front door where he was greeted with a loud chorus of "Banksie!" and "Cake Eater!". Blinking at the sudden cry, he said, "Hey, guys."
"How're you doing?" Charlie asked, nodding his head towards the injured arm Adam was resting on the doorjamb.
"It kind of hurts, but it's ok," Adam replied. "My brother said you all were going to play hockey?"
"Yeah, Cake Eater, we wanted to see if you wanted to join," Russ replied, leaning against the hockey stick he held in his hands. "It's not like it'd be the first time you played in pain, eh?"
"Yeah, no kidding," Adam said with a small laugh. "I'll go, but I think I'm just going to watch, ok?"
"You?" Connie asked with a look of surprise. "Skipping out on a game of hockey?"
"Well…I can't really help you guys in the Showdown if I don't rest up, right?" Adam asked. There was a pause of silence as his teammates took in what he said. He slowly smiled and laughed as his old team started cheering and tapping the ground with their hockey sticks and the wheels on their skates. "I mean, if you guys will have me back."
"Um, duh, dude," Guy said with a nod. "When did you decide on that?"
"My brother and I were just talking," Adam replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "and he helped me realize that the only time I was really having fun was when I was playing with you guys."
"Yeah, but how's your dad going to take it?" Goldberg asked. "He's more stiff than a backboard."
"Hopefully my brother can deal with it," Adam replied stepping out onto the porch. He reached for the doorknob and pulled the door shut behind him. "He's going to talk to my dad for me and I thought it'd be a good idea to not be here when it happens. So are we going or what?" His eyes darted from face to face of his team. "Where's Portman?"
"He's not coming," Fulton replied. "Said he had a lot of homework to do." Adam made a face. That certainly didn't sound like Portman. But no one else was offering him anymore information. "At least we all have plenty of time to do it." At Adam's look of confusion, he lifted an eyebrow. "Our scholarships have been pulled."
Adam opened and closed his mouth. "Don't worry," Julie reassured him. "We have a plan. But right now, we just want to have fun. So are you in or not?"
He had a feeling that the question had a double meaning. Nevertheless, he said without hesitation, "Yeah, I'm in" before joining his friends as they started making their way down the street.