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Gwen

“ M ove, move, move,” Coach Hirata yelled, as we pushed weights across some turf in the area the NYIT hockey team used for off-ice conditioning. “Come on, you’d think you worked all day,” she guffawed.

My university team had started formal pre-season conditioning and skills training, which was optional, since classes didn’t start for a month and not everyone was local. Those of us who were in town were all working our asses off with day jobs and internships.

Hence her joke–and why practices were in the early evening, so we could work during the day, and those who also had evening jobs could still hit the night shift.

There’s been informal conditioning and weight training sessions all summer, and while I’d made some, I hadn’t gotten to that many, since they were often when I was working. Still, I was confident that Coach could see that I hadn’t been slacking.

Today was the first day of Squire camp. It was the highlight of the Squire Foundation’s youth program and why so many Knights were around. It was a hockey summer camp where the Knights were the counselors and coaches, and I’d been hired to help.

In the morning, we had younger kids. In the afternoon, the big kids came. These were advanced high schoolers–some were part of the Squire program, some were local junior hockey kids, and others were talented young players that had been invited.

We ran it like a mini version of developmental camp and worked their asses off.

Coach Hirata continued to run us through drills. Finally, she waved us off. “Hit the showers, then there’s dinner for you. Make sure you take home leftovers and stuff your pockets.”

Yes, please. I ate quickly, relishing the time with my teammates, but aware that I needed to get to the rink to work the evening shift.

“Di Rossi, can you stop by my office before you leave?” Coach asked.

“Yes, Coach.” I stuffed a garlic knot in my face. The Knights always had things like salmon and grilled chicken, mushroom risotto, roasted vegetables, and spinach salad. Healthy, tasty food optimized for nutrition. But nothing beats a pasta dinner with garlic knots after a day of hard work.

“Oooh, you’re in trouble.” Maze laughed, dark eyes dancing. She was team captain and had just come back to town. She was one of my teammates who lived in the townhouse I’d looked into moving into.

“Naw. Coach is nice and found me new goalie pads to replace the ones Austin shredded when we broke up,” I replied.

“What? Those were nice and that shit’s expensive. We missed you at camp today,” Bonnie told me. “Also, I don’t like this rink as well as the training center.”

They’d had to move that camp since the rink was busy with squire camp and developmental camp–and I wasn’t working with them this week.

I finished up, threw a bunch of hydrogels and protein bars in my backpack, then ducked into Coach’s office.

“Here’s your laptop.” Coach handed me a thin box.

“Thank you. I’m so relieved to have this.” Now I could give Clark back his computer. I signed the receipt and lovingly tucked it into my backpack. Then I signed for everything else. Our sponsor had been generous, and I had a giant pile of things, which would take a bit of organizing to get back on the subway.

“You looked good out there. You’ve been working hard,” Coach told me.

“Thanks. It’s my last year and I plan on bringing it.” Maybe I’d splurge and order a car, drop this all off at Clark’s, then go to work. Oooh, I could also have the car take me to work, stash it, then bring it all back after my shift.

Yeah. I’d do that.

“Good. There’s interest,” she added. “Did you ever follow up on those agents that were interested in you after the playoffs?”

“Yes, Coach. I’m working on getting one. Teams are interested?” Hope sparked inside me. While I hoped teams were watching me from afar, knowing they were made a big difference.

She nodded. “One wanted to know if you’d grown.”

“The Tigres?” I tried to stuff as much as I could into one equipment bag.

“Yes, I didn’t realize Mexico City was watching you.” She studied me. But then she’d only been my coach for a year.

“I don’t think I’ll grow enough for them.” This wasn’t all going to fit in one bag, even if I took the skates out of the boxes. However, there were two bags.

“Show them wrong.” Coach Hirata was a beta and had played for the Scorpions and the Dinosaurs. She understood what challenges I faced.

“Yes, Coach.”

Make them look. Make them reconsider. Make them regret.

“I’m going to email you a practice plan for the rest of the season, so you can work on things we’ll be focusing on when pre-season officially starts,” she told me. “Also, I have some great news for you.”

“You do?” I zipped up the bag, my heart thundering in my ears. I already got a laptop and gear, what else was there?

“The alumni donor came through.” She beamed at me. “He and his pack were impressed and happy to cover everything. The money hit your student account today. I wanted to confirm it before I told you. I know you’ve been stressing out over this, so I’m happy we were able to get this resolved.”

Joy bubbled inside me, mixing with relief in an effervescent cocktail of happiness. “The donor came through? Really? Tuition is covered and I’m okay? Who is it?”

NYIT Hockey had a number of distinguished alumni.

“They wish to be anonymous, but you should write them a thank you note. Bring it to me next practice and I’ll make sure they get it,” she told me.

“Of course.” I’d be okay. Tuition was covered. I had a place to live. I had clothes, a laptop, and equipment. No more sobbing in my sleep, because I didn’t know what I was going to do.

“Also, he told a few others about you and the business office has had people calling to put money on your student account. So now you’ll have help with housing, living, and all that,” she added. “You live off campus, right? I think they disperse funds a couple weeks into the school year.”

“I do, thanks.” Other people were putting money into my account? How sweet. Tomorrow I’d check up on that. For all I knew, it was just a couple hundred bucks, but hey, even that would help a lot.

Awkwardly, I grabbed all my stuff, and ordered a ride to the rink. When I got there, I rushed to the employee locker room, put on my uniform, stashed my things, and went to clock in.

“Cutting it close, again.” Tony sat at his computer doing schedules.

“Sorry, Coach Hirata wanted to talk to me. The scholarship from the alumni came in. I’m set.” I’d checked my email on the drive over. Sure enough, I had a fancy little award letter, and confirmation that my entire outstanding tuition had been paid in full.

“Great, because I don’t know how much longer I can allow you to work as many hours as you want,” Tony replied.

“Oh. People are complaining? I’ve tried to be willing to trade shifts when people ask, so no one gets mad.” I’d hoped to keep overworking until classes started.

“There are these things called labor laws.” His look went amused. “Also, I’m completely serious that you should work as little as possible this year. Focus on what’s truly important.”

“Let me crunch the numbers, but that might be doable.” I left the office and got back to work. I couldn’t wait to tell Clark.