AllFreeNovel
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“Thank you, boys. I can take it from here.” He shoos Paul and Jeremy, leaving me alone with the man. He’s a good guy from what I can tell. Doesn’t take any shit, but he’s friendly and approachable.
“What brings you to my office, Mr. Oiler?” He gives me a quick glance over, probably checking for blood.
“I threw up on the ice.”
“Did you hit your head during the game?” He pushes on my neck, takes my helmet off and feels around in my sweaty hair, and flicks a pen light between my eyes.
“No.”
“Eat anything weird? How does your stomach feel now? Any other symptoms?” He motions for me to lay down and lifts my jersey when I do, pushing on my abdomen.
“No, I’m fine.”If by fine I mean on the edge of a nervous fucking breakdown because I’m a big baby and seeing my old bully has turned me back into a freak, then yeah. I’m fine.
“Hmm. Well, take it easy on your stomach tonight and check in with me in the morning.” He helps me sit up, and I head to the locker room to get changed.
The team is rowdy after the win, which I expected, but it’s overwhelming to my busy mind. I flinch when someone yells and head to my cubby to strip down. Paul sees me and comes over in just his compression shorts. It’s sexy as fuck to see him like this, despite the bruise forming on his arm from a hit he took in the second period, but my head is too busy to let my body respond.
He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I jerk out from under it without thinking about it. His hand hovers there in the air for a second before he drops it back to his side, confusion, hurt, and concern on his face. No one here knows what really happened on that team. I thought I was over it, that I had moved on, but apparently not.
“What did the doctor say?”
“That I’m fine,” I snap the same words I’ve said a dozen times tonight and pull my jersey off. I wrap that irritation around me like a shield to stop my hands from trembling. Frustration is so much easier than fear. I don’t have time to be sucked down into that headspace right now. It has to wait.
Someone pats my back, and I quickly shrug it off. Jeremy steps into view with confusion on his face, and I have to grit my teeth together so I don’t go off. Why can’t they all just fuck off and leave me alone? I just want to be left alone!
I pull on my suit without showering, which gets some raised eyebrows, but no one asks about it, thank fuck. I can’t shower in here. I need the privacy and safety of my own bathroom with a locking door. Once I’m dressed, I quickly exit and damn near run back to the dorms. My lungs burn and my legs protest the effort after the game, but I force my body to move anyway. I need to get to safety.
With every step I take, I feel like I’m being watched. As if people all around me are whispering and laughing about me.Make it stop.I just need it all to stop.
Someone tries to talk to me in the hallway, but I ignore them and burst into my dorm room like my ass is on fire, slamming the door behind me and leaning against it. I check under the beds, in the closets, and the bathroom to make sure I’m alone, then pull out the rum from under Paul’s bed and chug as much as I can stand. On my empty stomach, it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to hit me, but instead of the happy drunk I usually am, tears start falling down my face in chest-rattling sobs.
Freak. Weak. Birdy.
I manage to get mostly undressed and head into the bathroom with one sock and my underwear still on. I give zero fucks. The warm water has my eyes closing as it rinses the day and the game from my skin. Finally, I’m warm, no one is touching me, and I can’t hear anyone talking about me. Peace. I found peace.
* * *
After passing out drunk, my stomach isn’t happy with me this morning—neither is Paul, if I’m being honest—but I’m pushing through. Doc cleared me to play, and when my skates hit the ice for warmups, an anxiety I haven’t felt in a long time settles on my shoulders. I’m actually afraid of what will happen this game. Will I have to see Coach Williams? Will Fenwick get under my skin again and fuck up my head?
Paul and Jeremy are watching me like they would an animal at the zoo, like they don’t know what to do with me or if I’m dangerous. My skin is too tight, the pressure on my chest too heavy, and I can feel every pair of eyes on me. I know it’s stupid and not accurate logically, but that doesn’t mean anything to the panic.
Will Jeremy and Paul laugh at the stupid nicknames too? Will they start making fun of me for things I’ve worked so fucking hard to mask?
Shaking my head, I force myself into character. These guys expect me to act like a dumbass, and I’ll throw everything off if I don’t. I was already weird yesterday. I can’t risk being off today. But now I don’t know what’s too much or too loud or too weird. I’m second-guessing everything.
As we stand in the hallway waiting for the pregame to start, I slap sticks with Paul and Jeremy, then shove my stick between my legs and ride it like a horse. Why? No idea. But I hear the laughter of the crowd, and it makes me feel worse. I should be used to being laughed at. I’m always doing shit that makes the crowd laugh, but it doesn’t feel right today. Doing weird shit is what I’m known for, and it happens more and more when I’m stressed.
Paul slides up next to me, pulling my helmet to his and slaps the back of my head.
“We got this.”
After introductions, the game starts, and our assistant coach offers water and snacks to those of us on the bench. Willis eats a banana before he gets on the ice, Riggs eats a damn Snickers bar, and I’m offered a Payday.
“Fuck yeah! I love Paydays!” I grab the candy bar and rip it open with my teeth since my gloves are useless right now. I shove the salted peanut-covered caramel candy bar into my mouth and groan.
“Jesus, Oiler, you gonna deep throat that thing?” Matthews, one of our D men, laughs.
“You wish,” I toss back around a mouthful of candy. “You know you’re jealous of this nut in my mouth.” I send him a wink. Paul snorts to hide his laughter, and Matthews just shakes his head at me. They’re all used to me by now and don’t really take me seriously. If they hear the shit Chad says, will that change? Will I become the outcast again?
