Page 7 of Heartbreak Hockey

“Rise and shine, princess. I’ve got news for you, and you need to be alert for this.”

“Then you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve drank a gallon of coffee.”

Bender never waits though. He gives it to me straight. He’s too busy to sugarcoat things.

“Wildcats don’t want to sign you at the same rate.”

My jaw drops when he relays the amount. It’s a twenty-five percent cut. That’s a fucking lot. “What?”

“After this season, Jack, you’re lucky to get resigned. Take it or leave it? I could try to negotiate with another team—”

“No.No.I’ll stay.” I shouldn’t base my hockey career on where my friends are, but I can’t imagine being without them for anything less than the NHL. “Send me the fucking papers, Bend. I’m going to find a greasy breakfast.”

It’s not the end of the world. It’s better than I could have hoped for. My parents still help me out anyway and I have an off-season job as a bartender that’s always there for me. I’m in a great position. I should be relieved.

But I’m not. Still feels like my life is falling apart. That damn voice starts chirping at me, the one that’s been following me around since last season when I was at my peak, and I should have gotten pulled up but didn’t. The one that’s starting to believe I’m just not good enough. Problem is, hockey is my whole identity. Hell, I gave up the love of my fucking life for hockey.

Hockey’s not giving up its life for me. If I plummet any further, hockey may not want me at all. I crawl back in with Case and Dirk. Tears spill over my lids without permission. “Maybe I should quit hockey altogether and beg Rhett to take me back,” I sob into Casey’s shoulder.

We all know there would be no begging necessary. Rhett hasn’t let me go either.

“Fuck, Rhett. He only wants you if you give up everything for him. That’s not love, Jack,” Casey says.

“Or maybe he’s thought things over. Changed his mind,” Dirk says. “We all make mistakes.”

“Dude, what are you saying? Do you hear yourself right now?” That’s Casey.

“I’m just saying that people change, and hockey leagues are cutthroat. This is Jack’s heart we’re talking about.” He faces me instead of Casey. “You’ve given it another season and things haven’t changed; they’ve gotten worse. I hate seeing you so unhappy. If you didn’t love him anymore that’s one thing, but you still miss him every day.”

Wish I hadn’t told him that.

I also wish I could be as mad at Rhett as Casey is, but I’m not.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stacey says, rubbing his eyes and meandering over to our bed in nothing but a pair of black cotton briefs. His curly hair flops all over the place. “Jack’s come so far. He can’t go back to Rhett now. He’ll be settling because he thinks he has to. Give it one more season, Jack. Things will be better. You’ll see.”

I smile on the inside at the way my friends have taken over my life drama as if it’s their own. They’ll support whichever decision I make, even if they don’t like it, but right now, I wouldn’t mind if they just took it to a vote. I’m that lost. I don’t want to decide.

“Making a big important life decision after so much bad mojo is a terrible idea, Leslie,” Dash chimes in from the other bed. “I veto you making this decision right now.”

“So that’s two votes against Rhett, one in favor and one oracle from Miss Cleo. The room favors no, Rhett.”

“Actually, I change mine,” Dirk says. “Dash is right. Getting back together is a big decision and Casey’s right that you should giveyouanother chance. I think you owe yourself a do-over.”

“All right! Three in favor of no Rhett,” Casey says.

“Um, no. I believe what I said was that I vote for Jack,” Dirk clarifies.

“Same thing.”

Their bickering over what’s best for me fills my aching heart. “Yeah. I like that. A do-over for Jack. Count me as a vote for that,” I say.

“Good. Glad that’s sorted,” Stacey says. “We’re here for you, Jack, and we’ll be here for you while we drink massive amounts of caffeine and shovel bacon into our mouths.”

That’s Stacey for “get your asses in gear, guys”.

Everyone gets moving, except for me and Casey who are naturally belligerent, but in this case, my body is ignoring my brain’s prompting to leave the lush confines of this bed I’ve chosen for my final resting place. I am never drinking again.

Casey pulls me to him and kisses my lips, which is a sign of true love. My mouth tastes like sewage.