Page 77 of Unforgettable Player

“You still there?”

“Yes, sorry. I …” I scrub a hand over my face, trying to formulate a response. “I think I might be going back to school in the fall, or at least I’m trying to.”

“I see.”

Disappointing people always feels like a gut punch. I have to bite my tongue to stop from apologizing or telling him I’ll do what he asks.

“Well, I’m sure we could have this chat again in seven or eight months’ time. You will be playing hockey at Harvard I assume?”

I’m so surprised by his response that it’s hard to find my words. “Yeah, um … I mean, I hope so. Nothing’s been arranged yet.”

“Do you have any idea when you’ll know? If you don’t go back to school, we’d like you now. If you do, we’ll review after next season. How does that sound?”

“It sounds … amazing.” As soon as I say it, I’m filled with this lightness. Like it’s the first truly honest thing I’ve said in years.

“Great. We’re not talking a three-month contract here, Connor. We like the way you play, and your style and your specialties are exactly what we need here on the team.”

When was the last time someone made me feel truly wanted like this? Outside of this casual hook up situation with Eli?

“We’re right at the start of a re-build, so this is a long-term thing and we’re willing to be patient. We have a few young players starting next season, you’ll be right at home.”

He keeps on giving me the sales pitch, but it doesn’t sound like bullshit, like most of the sales pitches I gave to my customers.

He’s still talking when I notice the cars in the parking lot driving away without their kids.

“I’m just about to go into the rink—” I start.

“Of course, don’t let me delay you. Just keep me posted, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Coach’s head snaps up when I rush out onto the ice. The kids are already in their gear and practicing their stick handling.

“What are you smiling about, Coach Ryan?” he asks.

“I’ll tell you later.”

For the rest of practice, my legs feel like they could skate for eternity. The kids don’t feel like they’ll be getting away from me in a couple of years. Hell, I even delude myself that I could chase down McDavid in this mood and win.

I’m still buzzing with energy when Coach Garvin blows his whistle to signal the end of practice.

He waits until the kids are all in the locker rooms getting changed to speak to me. I feel him watching me as I scoop up some cones and throw them into the box.

“I just spoke to the scout from Worcester.”

“Oh yeah?”

“They’re interested in offering me a long-term contract.”

Coach’s face lights up. I go on before he can get too excited.

“But I think I wanna go back to school first, finish my degree, see if I can get back on the team there first.”

Coach is nodding when I look at him. “That’s smart.”

“Is it? I’ll be giving up a well-paid job with free travel in California for winter in Massachusetts as a penniless student.”

Coach laughs, slapping me on the back. “But you’ll be happier, right?”