It’s a process, one that is only marginally easier now that I’m an adult and my father no longer has a say-so in anything I do. Right now, he is nothing more than hot air and a painful reminder of my awful childhood.
But maybe one day…if things keep getting better and better as they seem to be doing of late.
“Crossman…need a word,” Coach yells from the visiting coach’s office.
“Uh-oh,” Garrett teases in a singsong voice. “Someone’s in trouble.”
Picking my jockstrap up as I stand from the bench, I throw it at Garrett and snicker when it smacks him in the face.
“He shoots, he scores!” I yell with my hands raised in victory, and several of my teammates burst out laughing. I note with amusement that some of them are looking at me like I grew a pair of antlers out of my head or something, shocked that the most valuable prick actually might have some humor deep within his bones.
Walking over to the office that sits off the locker room, I enter and close the door. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Just wanted to pass on to you that the Board has been very pleased with your work of late.”
“Just doing my job,” I say, honestly not caring if they’re impressed with my game or not.
“It’s not just how you’re playing. They’re very impressed with your work on the outreach campaign.”
I stare blankly at my coach, because for the life of me I can’t figure out how in the hell they even know what I’m doing. Coach decides to fill me in.
“Seems that woman you’re working with over there sent an email to Walt Prestonwood, extolling your virtues or some shit like that. Even said something like you were a role model for other players,” he says with an amused smirk on his face.
I have to lower my head and bite down on my tongue so as not to snicker. God love Sutton and her attempts to make me look good to the brass.
When I raise my head, Coach is still smiling at me. “Seriously though, I’ve noticed a difference too. You’re actually ‘present’ during the games and at practice, and by that I mean your head is f**king present. You were a great player before, but you’re on fire now, Alex. Keep up the good work.”
I actually feel my cheeks get a little hot from the blatant praise and rather than roll my eyes as I normally do when I feel like someone is blowing rainbows up my ass, I actually feel a pleasant warmth creep through me. Standing up from my chair, I say, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Turning to walk out of his office, I hear Coach say, “Oh, and do me a favor tonight. Try to kick some ass out there and bring the win home for us.”
By the time I make it out of Coach’s office and to the locker room, I have no time to send a text to Sutton. I quickly strip down and start dressing for the game. Jockstrap, shin pads, socks, pants, shoulder pads, and elbow pads all firmly strapped into place. I put my jersey over my head and pull it down, securing the ends of the fight straps to my pants.
Sitting back down on the bench, I pull my skates on and start lacing them up.
“So, what’s up with you and Cassie?” I hear Kyle Steppernech ask from the bench opposite me.
Raising my head, I give him a cursory glance before turning my attention back to my laces. “Nothing’s up. I broke it off.”
“Why, dude? She’s a prime piece.”
“That’s all she is,” I grumble as I finish the first skate and turn my attention to the other.
“And what…the great loner, Alex Crossman, is looking for something more?” Kyle sneers. “Wake up, dude. You had it perfect. Free pu**y whenever you wanted it and no nagging or bitching to go along with it.”
Shaking my head, I don’t respond but finish tying the second skate. When I lift my head and glance at Kyle, he’s staring at me with eyebrows raised, waiting for me to deny what he’s said.
“What’s the deal with you, Steppernech?” I ask, trying to keep the derision out of my voice. “You talk about free pu**y and no-strings sex, yet you got yourself shackled to a woman who spends all your money and squirted a couple of kids out. You want to live vicariously through me or something?”
Kyle snorts and then throws his head back in laughter. “I don’t need to live vicariously through you, man. I get all the free I want when I’m road-tripping with the team.”
He says it with such pride, cheating on his wife, that it makes me a little sick to my stomach. I mean, I wasn’t monogamous when I was with Cassie, but I was up-front about that. I didn’t trade rings with her or even any promises I’d buy her dinner.
“The ladies must really love you,” I hear Garrett say from my left. He’s looking at Kyle with disgust on his face, and it’s certainly prevalent in his voice.
Steppernech turns his gaze onto Garrett and his eyes narrow. “You’re one to be looking down your nose, Samuelson. You seem to f**k a lot of strange.”
Garrett just gives an easygoing smile to Kyle. “Dude, I like it varied, no doubt, but I treat every lady I’m with with respect. Look it up sometime. I’m sure your wife might appreciate it.”
“You f**king ass**le,” Kyle growls as he lunges from the bench. I immediately step in front of Garrett, I guess to protect him, and it’s f**king weird that I would do that. Just two weeks ago, I would have sat on the bench and played a game on my iPhone while they tore each other to pieces.
Luckily, a few of the other players near Kyle jump up and grab at his elbows. Luca Brassard, our team captain walks into the middle and shouts, “Knock it off and get your heads out of your asses. We’re here to play hockey, not have a f**king gossip session.”
But maybe one day…if things keep getting better and better as they seem to be doing of late.
“Crossman…need a word,” Coach yells from the visiting coach’s office.
“Uh-oh,” Garrett teases in a singsong voice. “Someone’s in trouble.”
Picking my jockstrap up as I stand from the bench, I throw it at Garrett and snicker when it smacks him in the face.
“He shoots, he scores!” I yell with my hands raised in victory, and several of my teammates burst out laughing. I note with amusement that some of them are looking at me like I grew a pair of antlers out of my head or something, shocked that the most valuable prick actually might have some humor deep within his bones.
Walking over to the office that sits off the locker room, I enter and close the door. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Just wanted to pass on to you that the Board has been very pleased with your work of late.”
“Just doing my job,” I say, honestly not caring if they’re impressed with my game or not.
“It’s not just how you’re playing. They’re very impressed with your work on the outreach campaign.”
I stare blankly at my coach, because for the life of me I can’t figure out how in the hell they even know what I’m doing. Coach decides to fill me in.
“Seems that woman you’re working with over there sent an email to Walt Prestonwood, extolling your virtues or some shit like that. Even said something like you were a role model for other players,” he says with an amused smirk on his face.
I have to lower my head and bite down on my tongue so as not to snicker. God love Sutton and her attempts to make me look good to the brass.
When I raise my head, Coach is still smiling at me. “Seriously though, I’ve noticed a difference too. You’re actually ‘present’ during the games and at practice, and by that I mean your head is f**king present. You were a great player before, but you’re on fire now, Alex. Keep up the good work.”
I actually feel my cheeks get a little hot from the blatant praise and rather than roll my eyes as I normally do when I feel like someone is blowing rainbows up my ass, I actually feel a pleasant warmth creep through me. Standing up from my chair, I say, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Turning to walk out of his office, I hear Coach say, “Oh, and do me a favor tonight. Try to kick some ass out there and bring the win home for us.”
By the time I make it out of Coach’s office and to the locker room, I have no time to send a text to Sutton. I quickly strip down and start dressing for the game. Jockstrap, shin pads, socks, pants, shoulder pads, and elbow pads all firmly strapped into place. I put my jersey over my head and pull it down, securing the ends of the fight straps to my pants.
Sitting back down on the bench, I pull my skates on and start lacing them up.
“So, what’s up with you and Cassie?” I hear Kyle Steppernech ask from the bench opposite me.
Raising my head, I give him a cursory glance before turning my attention back to my laces. “Nothing’s up. I broke it off.”
“Why, dude? She’s a prime piece.”
“That’s all she is,” I grumble as I finish the first skate and turn my attention to the other.
“And what…the great loner, Alex Crossman, is looking for something more?” Kyle sneers. “Wake up, dude. You had it perfect. Free pu**y whenever you wanted it and no nagging or bitching to go along with it.”
Shaking my head, I don’t respond but finish tying the second skate. When I lift my head and glance at Kyle, he’s staring at me with eyebrows raised, waiting for me to deny what he’s said.
“What’s the deal with you, Steppernech?” I ask, trying to keep the derision out of my voice. “You talk about free pu**y and no-strings sex, yet you got yourself shackled to a woman who spends all your money and squirted a couple of kids out. You want to live vicariously through me or something?”
Kyle snorts and then throws his head back in laughter. “I don’t need to live vicariously through you, man. I get all the free I want when I’m road-tripping with the team.”
He says it with such pride, cheating on his wife, that it makes me a little sick to my stomach. I mean, I wasn’t monogamous when I was with Cassie, but I was up-front about that. I didn’t trade rings with her or even any promises I’d buy her dinner.
“The ladies must really love you,” I hear Garrett say from my left. He’s looking at Kyle with disgust on his face, and it’s certainly prevalent in his voice.
Steppernech turns his gaze onto Garrett and his eyes narrow. “You’re one to be looking down your nose, Samuelson. You seem to f**k a lot of strange.”
Garrett just gives an easygoing smile to Kyle. “Dude, I like it varied, no doubt, but I treat every lady I’m with with respect. Look it up sometime. I’m sure your wife might appreciate it.”
“You f**king ass**le,” Kyle growls as he lunges from the bench. I immediately step in front of Garrett, I guess to protect him, and it’s f**king weird that I would do that. Just two weeks ago, I would have sat on the bench and played a game on my iPhone while they tore each other to pieces.
Luckily, a few of the other players near Kyle jump up and grab at his elbows. Luca Brassard, our team captain walks into the middle and shouts, “Knock it off and get your heads out of your asses. We’re here to play hockey, not have a f**king gossip session.”
