AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A career in hockey was always my dream. Having to fall back on my backup plan and work as a marketing specialist was something I never actually imagined having to do. My ego took a hit and so did my heart. Marketing wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life, but if I wanted to live, I had no choice at this point. I worked hard for that degree, even if I never planned on using it.
If I really wanted to, I could have moved in with my parents and lived off the money they had in a trust for me. After I turned eighteen, I could access the funds they spent years saving for me. While my father played hockey professionally, my parents were smart with their finances. My mom didn’t give up her own dreams and still went on to be a pediatrician.
They made it work. If anything, watching both of them instilled a lot of my own core values. And even though I never had to want for anything while I was growing up, I wanted independence. I didn’t want to live off my parents, and I sure as hell didn’t want to live off of anyone else’s money either.
I was fortunate enough that I went to college on a full-ride scholarship. I didn’t touch the money my parents had saved for me until I moved to Orchid City. I tapped into some of it to use as a down payment on the condo I bought. In a way, it was an impulsive decision. I didn’t know whether or not I would plan to stay here, but my parents were always big on building assets.
Even if I decided Orchid City wasn’t the place for me, I could just rent out the condo instead.
And there was a large part of me that was considering whether or not this was where I belonged.
I wanted to go back up north, back to everything I knew. There were so many more hockey rinks back home. So many more opportunities. Not to mention I could count the friends I had made here on one finger.
After practice ended, I headed into the locker room and helped one of the little ones untie their skates while she waited for her parents to come in and help. She tilted her head back at me, peering up at me with honey brown eyes through the cage of her helmet.
“Coach Jules,” she said softly before glancing around at her teammates in the locker room. She lowered her voice to almost a whisper, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her. “I don’t think I’m very good at this.”
I tilted my head to the side, my brow furrowing. “Sydney, you’re six. I needed help tying my skates until I was almost ten—and even then, I didn’t do a very good job.”
“Not my skates.” She frowned and shook her head. “Hockey. I’m not very good.”
My heart clenched as I heard the sadness in her voice and I slid the blade protectors over her skates before setting them down beside her. Reaching for the straps of her helmet, I unsnapped them and undid her chin strap. Sydney pulled her helmet from her head and cradled it in her lap as she looked back up at me through her thick lashes.
Bending my knees, I crouched back down in front of her. “You’re just getting started, Syd. There aren’t many kids that are very good at hockey this young. I promise if you keep trying, you’ll get better.”
“But you’re really good.”
A soft laugh escaped me. “I’ve been playing hockey for a really long time. I would hope to be good by now.” She still didn’t look convinced even though she cracked a small smile. “Can I tell you a secret?”
She nodded as she chewed on her bottom lip.
“When I was twelve, I tried out for this one team and I didn’t make it.”
A confused look washed over her expression. “What do you mean?”
“I tried out for the team and they told me no. They told me that I wasn’t good enough to play with that team.” It wasn’t a lie. I was shooting for the AA team and ended up being bumped down to A instead.
“So what did you do?”
I smiled at her. “I didn’t give up. I played on a different team and I played even harder. I practiced all the time, so when tryouts came around for the next season I would be good enough.”
Sydney smiled back at me, her lips curving upward as her eyes brightened with hope. “I can do it. I can try harder and be better.”
“As long as you’re having fun, that is the most important thing.”
“Oh, Coach Juliette,” a feminine voice sounded from behind me. I stood up and turned around to meet Sydney’s mother as she walked over to us. “Thank you so much for helping Sydney. I was stuck on a business call.”
“No worries at all,” I assured her with a nod. “Sydney is a great kid,” I told her before winking at Syd. Her mother grinned and I stepped aside as she took my place in front of her daughter. I excused myself, telling all the kids they did great before making my way to the coaches’ locker room.
It was empty when I stepped inside and took off my own skates. I couldn’t help but see a bit of myself in Sydney. She had the drive and the determination. All she needed was confidence, but that would come over time. If she kept up with it, she could be a good player one day. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind about that. She had grit and that would go a long way in an aggressive sport like hockey.
Practice for some of the older kids had already started by the time I was leaving the rink. After putting in a full day of work at the hospital and coming straight here for practice, I was exhausted by the time I reached my condo building. After letting myself in through the front, I stopped by the mail room to get my stuff. There was an email I saw this morning saying the book I had ordered was delivered yesterday, but I forgot to check for it earlier.
I opened my box and disappointment washed over me as I saw there were only two pieces of junk mail inside. Typically if there was a package delivered that didn’t fit inside, they would leave a little slip for it to be picked up in the security office in the lobby. There wasn’t even a slip in there. It was after hours, so I wouldn’t be able to call the delivery company, but I would have to check tomorrow. There was always a chance of things getting lost in the mail, but I was really looking forward to reading my new book.
After closing the small door of my mailbox and locking it, I made my way to the elevator and leaned against the wall as I rode up to my floor. I loathed cooking. The only thing I couldn’t burn was toast and pasta. I had no desire to make anything for myself and I had gotten into the bad habit of ordering out almost every single day.
Sometimes I wondered how the hell I fully functioned as an adult.
