Page 135 of Slapshot Baby

His mouth tightens. “Kai…”

“I mentored every young player who came through that door for four seasons, and I did it on my own time."

"All of that is reflected in your personnel file." He stands, extends his hand. "Report to camp and show me what you've told me. Six weeks."

I shake his hand and leave.

When I pass my framed jersey again, my gaze goes to the C on the chest. It’s sharp and clean behind glass, preserved like a museum specimen.

The parking garage is cold. I get in my car, close the door, and press both hands flat against the steering wheel until the leather warms under my palms.

Everything I've done since I woke up in that hospital bed has been aimed at getting the version of my life I had before the hit.

I got the game and the roster back.

But not the captaincy.

I pull out my phone, see Ava's name sitting at the top of my messages and send her a message.

Kai:

Got the roster spot. They're holding the captaincy.

Her reply is immediate.

Ava:

Holding it how?

Kai:

It’s under review for six weeks.

Ava:

That's garbage.

Kai:

Yeah.

Ava:

You’re the captain, Kai. Don’t let them tell you anything different.

The knot in my chest loosens by a fraction. I drive home. The moment I step into my apartment, Mom calls.

"Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?"

"Got cleared for the roster."

“Then why do you sound so miserable?”

I tell her about the captaincy. She moves through the kitchen, cutlery clanging.

"Your father is going to blow a gasket."

"Tell him not to call Hargrove."