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Jake

A ny day now Coach Jameson is going to pull me aside and read me the riot act.

The fact that it hasn’t happened yet puts me on edge as I enter the arena for practice.

Around my teammates I’ve acted like my normal cocky self.

No one’s the wiser about how rough things have been for me.

I didn’t want to scare anyone. Having your alternate captain benched would definitely cause a panic amongst our players, which is not what we needed right now.

I needed my teammates to have their sole attention on improving their own game, instead of worrying if I would be playing alongside them.

Adam, my co-captain and roommate, gives me a nod as I walk to my locker to get ready for practice.

On the outside, we couldn’t be more different.

He was an interesting blend of inquisitive and broody.

I was the wild child who couldn’t keep my mouth shut and loved having a good time.

Our differences balanced us out in a way that made us perfect roommates.

Plus, on the ice we were magic together.

I’d never been on the same line with someone who could practically read my mind.

From the corner of my eye, I catch two of the freshmen wrestling over a roll of stick tape and I can’t help but be reminded of the first time Adam and I met.

I nod my head toward the freshman and nudge Adam.

“Remember our first practice together? I ate your last protein bar and you nearly strangled me.” It was the only time I’ve heard Adam raise his voice.

“You mean after you used up all of my stick tape and hid my change of clothes as a ‘prank’?” He rolls his eyes.

“I made it up to you later by getting you a Costco-sized box of your favorite protein bars.”

“I guess putting up with your harassment does have its benefits.”

A wave of silence washes over the locker room, and I turn to see a former Westchester legend.

A guy I looked up to when he made it to the NHL and won the Stanley Cup.

And also felt really bad for when he had to medically retire.

Coach Jameson had warned us he was coming by and I couldn’t wait to pick his brain about how to tighten up my slap shot.

“Holy Shit. We got Mason Hayes back in Westchester. You back to see the new golden age of college hockey?” I couldn’t help my shit-eating grin or my momentary lapse in judgment as I threw my arm around this living legend like we are old pals.

I’m star stuck and handling this the best I can.

“Listen man, any chance you can get me two glass seats to the next Rangers game? There’s this absolute rocket in my marketing class that I’ve been trying to take out and?—"

“Shut your big mouth Jake before you say something that will get us all skating suicides after practice,” Adam hollers over me, rolling his eyes before nodding at Mason. “Adam Reed, right wing, and team captain.”

“And he never lets us forget it, ,” I quip which earns me a laugh from the rest of the team. Adam ignores me as he continues to get dressed.

Coach Jameson bursts into the room right after, clueing us in as to why Mason’s here.

“Alright everyone, listen up. We have some important announcements. As you may know the process of finding a new assistant coach after Coach Whitney retired has been a shit show. Mason will be filling in until we make our final decision.”

Holy shit this is about to be fun. Not only was Mason one of the best players on his team back in the day, he had a killer reputation as a ladies’ man and life of the party at Westchester.

Coach Jameson had a stick up his ass and regularly called us out for our ‘work hard, play hard’ mentality.

Now that Mason was here, I had a feeling that mentality would be more appreciated.

My teammates apparently agreed as cheers echoed throughout the room.

“While I understand all the excitement, I’d like to remind everyone that Mason is here to be a Coach. And not your friend . ” I hold in a snort. Yeah, we’ll see about that.

As the locker room starts to clear out for practice, Mason pulls me aside. “Hey Jake let me talk to you for a second.”

He sounds a little serious. Was asking for Rangers tickets too much? “What’s up coach?”

“We need to talk about your PSYCH101 grade. You know the University has a strict policy on benching players that have any active grades lower than a C-. We’re going to have to take you out of the next game if you don’t get your grade up.” He crosses his arms over his chest — all business.

Dammit. Coach Jameson had already gotten to him.

I was hoping I’d be able to impress Mason with my hockey skills before he learned I was on the brink of being benched.

I hated that he already viewed me as a liability for the team.

He’s also playing his new hard-ass assistant coach role really well, and it feels incredibly hypocritical.

While I understand that he is being forced to follow university policy, from what I heard about Mason’s time on the team, he also dicked around and didn’t take his classes seriously.

My irritation starts to build. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t like this any more than you do,” he confesses.

That softened me up a bit. Coach Jameson probably put Mason up to this as his first big task.

“Go fix the problem child with the bad grades and even worse attitude.” Not exactly the first impression I wanted to have with one of my heroes.

Mason gives me a sheepish look. “But the rules are the rules.”

He just aged himself 10 years with that line.

“We’re going up against Bolton and UCONN soon.

All the scouts are going to be there. I need to be on that ice.

Besides, it’s not even my fault I have a D in that class.

The TA took off all these extra points on my assignment and when I tried to ask her to fix it, she just blew me off.

” I huff in frustration. A therapist would probably have something to say about how easily the lies roll off my tongue when hockey is threatened.

Mason raises an eyebrow at me. ”C’mon man, be real with me here and I’ll do what I can to help get you out of this.”

I give him a rough recap of my meeting with the TA, editing the story to hide how much of an asshole I was.

Storming out of the room and acting like an entitled brat during my conversation with Violet was definitely not something I’m proud of.

But I’m in way over my head and beyond desperate to keep hockey.

So whatever I have to do to keep my time on the ice, I will.

I can see Mason debate whether or not to trust me, when he finally concedes. “How about I talk to your TA? Maybe she’d be more understanding of your situation if it came from your coach.”

The heaviness on my shoulders lightens a bit. “You’d honestly be saving my ass. I can send you her office hours and maybe you can drop by?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I’ll let you know how it goes.

” The sound of the whistle signaling the beginning of practice catches our attention.

“Why don’t you get your ass on the ice and show me— what did you say earlier?

‘The new golden age of college hockey?’” He rolls his eyes at my previous jab.

I flash a smug grin. “You got it Coach.”