“Okay, what else?”
Before GG could add anything, a loud voice from down the bench spoke up.
“New guy takes advice?”
GG’s jaw clicked, but he had an almost-smile when he turned around to address Mags. He appraised the defenseman, one of the guys Nick hadn’t really had a chance to talk, before he answered.
“Not from defensemen he doesn’t. This is just between linemates, trying to work out the kinks.”
Mags ignored him. “Send the puck back to the D, let us get a decent point shot. Get yourself some points and the team some goals.”
Young Greg and Donno, a forward from Benns’s line, booed together.
“This isn’t the NHL, bro,” Young Greg said while laughingly shaking his head. “Your shot’s too weak. They knock it down every time.”
“You’d be better off holding it and then passing it back to one of us,” Donno added. “We don’t pass it back for y’all to just lose it.”
Mags ignored them, too.
“It’s a team game, right?” he said, and looked Nick dead in the eye. “Passing it to your D is part of that teamwork.”
Nick had the feeling he’d waded into some sort of team drama that he wasn’t ready for.
“Uhhh…” He looked around for help, always mindful of Mags’s eyes boring into his head while he stalled. He saw several defensemen watching him with interest, the other forwards with encouraging smiles, and then he caught Brady whispering something under his breath to Gail. Nick’s cheeks colored and he looked away, not sure he wanted to know what Brady had said about him. “I mean… I guess I—”
“Stop acting like you know shit about how to play up,” Gail drawled. “You scored on your own net once, so maybe leave the forwards alone? They seem to at least find the other team’s net just fine without your help.”
Mags went pale and choked on his surprise. The forwards snickered, the defense withdrew their silent support in embarrassment, and Nick was free from having to answer.
The tension didn’t dissipate until Lexi grabbed a beer, shook it unnecessarily, and then opened the can with the spray aimed toward his mouth. That earned laughs and groans at his antics, and Nick had a feeling Lexi made a spectacle of himself often for the sake of ending an argument.
Right now, hereallyappreciated it.
Nick rushed out of the locker room (while trying to make it look like hewasn’trushing) and the muggy night air hit him. For the first time, it meant relief instead of that small disappointment that hockey was over.
As he walked briskly to his car, Nick was startled to hear footsteps falling into stride with his.
“You want advice?” Brady said, shocking Nick so much he nearly dropped his stick.
Nick swallowed and nodded. As long as it wasn’t anything drastic like “quit the team,” he could probably handle the criticism.
“Justpractice. Play more. You’re new, right? You’ll figure it out faster on your own than with people trying to curate your play in a way that suits their own interests.”
Nick found his voice again. “So no ulterior motives from you? You’re not looking for an extra pass?”
Brady snorted. “I can get the puck just fine if I want it, thanks. Get better at controlling the puck the wayyouwant to.”
And with that, Brady turned to the far end of the parking lot, leaving Nick with the soundest advice he’d gotten all evening.
Even if it was from the least likely source.
*
A week later, Nick was still mulling over how he could get better.
He’d started the season on a high note, and it’d given him a much-needed confidence boost. The more recent games were a mixed bag; there were team losses and team wins, but it was Nick’s personal gameplay that bothered him. There were moves he’d practiced so hard that he could do in drills but couldn’t quite get a handle on during a game.
Brady was right: he still needed practice. His teammates’ advice could only get him so far; he needed to work on his muscle memory. He wasn’tterrible, and sometimes he flattered himself that players on other teams (and sometimes his own) were worse than him, but he was nowhere near where he wanted to be. Where hecouldbe.
