Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“No, I’m not one of them,” he replies. I want to smile but his next words take it all back. “But I’m also going to say that I’ve started to change my mind.” I put my hands on my head and all I want to do is charge out there and tell him that he’s wrong. He’s so, so wrong.
twenty-five
Zane
I sit across from Jaxon on the couch, watching him try not to make eye contact with me. The whole conversation guts me, to be honest. It’s one thing for the headlines to tell you that you aren’t fit for the job. It’s one thing for your boss to shit on you and tell you that maybe you aren’t up to his standards. It’s a whole different thing when one of the players, who is supposed to be standing with you, tells you that you might not be right for the job.
“Are you one of them?” I ask him the question and wait for his answer.
“No, I’m not one of them,” he answers as he shakes his head and looks down and then he looks back up—man-to-man, eye to eye. “But I’m also going to say that I’ve started to change my mind.”
“You think it was easy sitting up in the press box watching my team on the ice, knowing I couldn’t do anything?” I let that linger in the air for a minute. “Because let me fucking tell you, it was fucking hard to watch. It’s the same feeling you must get when you are in the box and not able to help your team.” I stick him, knowing that is going to bug him. “You think because you guys won one game when I wasn’t behind the bench that it means I’m not good for the job?” I ask him.
“It’s more than that and you know it.”
“Is it?” I ask him, getting pissed now. Hurt still lingers there under the surface because I thought we were friends. “What does it say about you?” I ask him. “You’re captain of this team,” I point out. “You are supposed to lead the team.” His jaw gets tight. “I don’t see that happening. You see cracks in the foundation just as me.”
“Now, wait just a minute.”
“Not such a good feeling, having something like that thrown in your face.” He doesn’t say anything. “I’ve had people telling me from day one that I shouldn’t be in this position. That I shouldn’t have gotten the job. I started this fucking job with two strikes already on my back. One, that I was the youngest one out there and two, people didn’t think I could do the job.” The statement shocks him. “Yeah, so I’ve been dealing with trying to prove them all wrong, while trying to guide a group of men to play to their best ability. What have you done? These guys”—I put my elbows on my knees—“some of the best guys I’ve seen on the ice. Best rookies I’ve ever seen play. I can only help steer them, but you—” I point to him. “You need to lead them on that ice. You want to point the finger at me and blame me?” I shrug. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I’m not good for the job. Maybe there are other people out there more qualified. But I’m here and I’m going to fucking fight to stay here. What are you going to do? Tell me, what are you going to do?” I wait a second to see if he will answer me, but he doesn’t. “Or better yet, if you were me, what would you do? Would you just bow your head and walk away, or would you stay and fight?” He opens his mouth. “If you tell me you would bow your head and walk away, that’s a fucking lie.”
“I was going to say I would stay and fight,” he admits.
“But you want me to pack it up and move on.” I point to myself and shake my head. “Well, I’m not going to do it. I might not be the right man for the job,” my voice gets tight, “but it’s my job for however long they let me have it. I’m asking you to fucking work with me.” He doesn’t say anything. “Something is going on in that locker room, and I don’t know what it is.”
“You.” He points to me. “You are what’s going on.”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not me. It might be about me, but it’s not me. There is a divide and one side is working with me and one side is working against me. I don’t know who is on either side.” He raises his eyebrows. “What side are you on?”
“I’m on the team’s side,” he snaps.
“Then find out what the fuck is going on and lead the fucking team.” He gets up, his eyes in slits as he turns to walk out of the room. “And try not to fuck it up by taking penalties.” I try to hide the smirk. “I need you on the ice and not in the box.”