AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know.”
“Do you? Because I’ve been here a week, and you let in shots you could have saved because you aren’t moving correctly.” This earns me another scathing look. I leave the crease and wave a hand for him to take my place. He does, and I have him repeat the drill for twice as long as I would with any other player. “Okay, stop.”
We spend the first half of practice focusing only on movement drills. After a while, his frown is replaced with a look of concentration and his motions become more fluid. After another water break, I place two pucks on the top corners of the crease and skate back between the pipes to outline another drill for him.
“Alright, now we’re going to work on the butterfly slide.”
“I already know—,” he challenges, before I cut him off.
“I swear to god, if you tell me you already know something one more time, I’m going to have you doing nothing but bag skates for the rest of the week.” He huffs, banging his stick against the front of his pads in agitation. “Iknowyou know this stuff, but I’ve also been watching you in scrimmage and know what needs work. Okay?”
I wait for him to give me a reluctant nod before continuing my demonstration. Starting at the top of the crease, I T-push to one of the pucks before sinking into a butterfly push toward the opposite post. Regaining my feet, I shuffle back to the other post before doing another T-push to the top of the crease where I started. Then, just to make sure he gets it, I perform the same maneuver on the opposite side.
“The point is to have good control of the butterfly slide,” I explain. “Make sure the puck is centered between your skates when you cover it at the top of the crease.”
I tap my stick on one of the pucks and he nods, again. I want him to have these motions so ingrained in his muscle memory that they are second nature. More natural to him than breathing. He’s got the makings of being a talented netminder, and I’m determined to get him there this summer.
“Alright, that’s enough for today.” After a while, I stop him even though his movements are still strong. Pushing him to the point of exhaustion won’t help him learn. I tap my stick against the front of his leg pads. “Good job.”
He grunts, but knocks my own leg pads in response. Because I can’t help myself, I take a moment to find Nico across the ice. He’s working with some centers on puck control during draws. As if he can feel me staring, he looks over. A shiver of anticipation dances down my spine. Practice is almost over, which hopefully means other activities will be beginning.
“How are classes going?” I ask, turning back to Morgan.
“I hate class,” he says, baldly. “I just want to play hockey.”
“You can do both,” I tell him, gently. “In fact, it’s a good idea to do both. You can’t play hockey forever; you need a backup plan.”
“I won’t get to play hockey at all,” he mutters, half under his breath. He looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him, blue eyes flashing defiantly and chin tipped up haughtily, as though I’m the one who told him he couldn’t play hockey.
He’s removed his mask, laying it atop the netting on the goal. His blonde hair is half-shaved, but for the top portion which is long enough for him to pull into a bun at the back of his head. He reaches up to fix it, sleeves pulling up to show tattooed forearms. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’s got two full sleeves of ink. He appears nothing like what I would imagine someone named Carter Morgan III would look like, but maybe that’s by design.
“Why can’t you play hockey?”
“Because I’m aMorgan,” he sneers, “and a Morgan has to uphold the family name and further the family business. A Morgan can’t do anything as base as play a professional sport. That’s not arealjob.”
The vitriol with which this is spoken is impressive. Also, worrying. No eighteen-year-old kid should bethisunhappy. “What’s the family business?”
“My dad steals land from people and then puts up a fancy hotel that nobody with a blue-collar job can afford to stay at. Sometimes he adds a golf course, because he’s an asshole.”
Oh boy. “Maybe, once you get close to finishing your studies, Coach Mackenzie could have a talk with your dad? It’s early days, but if you start getting scouted it might be worth having a chat with your parents. Or I could, if you wanted.”
He stares at me, eyes narrowed and lips pursed in a blatant expression of mistrust. Reaching up, he scratches absently at a silver hoop in his nose. I’ve told him not to wear that fucking thing to practice a dozen times.Pick your battles, today is not the day.
“No, that won’t work.” He deflates, slightly, a little bit of the ire seeping away. I wonder what he would be like ifallof the anger was absent. “It’s fine, I’ll figure it out myself.”
“Alright. But you have my number. Don’t hesitate to call.” Nico had provided the team with all of our contact information on the first day, in the event that there was an emergency that prevented the boys from making it to practice. Or, if any of them got themselves into trouble, they’d have a few lifelines they could tug on in a bind. I try to make that portion clear to Morgan. “For any reason, day or night. You can call me.”
“I don’t need you,” he tells me, but shoots me a side-eyed glance that is lacking the usual hostility. Across the ice, Nico blows his whistle and calls an end to practice. I wave Morgan off, indicating that I’ll clean up our stray pucks. As he goes, I hear a mumbled: “Thanks, Tony.”
Saving him from feeling embarrassed, I hide my smile and pretend I didn’t hear. I do watch him go, though, trying to think of the best way to help him without being too obvious about it. It’s clear the kid needs someone in his corner. Vasel skates by, and I’m hit with a sudden inspiration.
“Hey, Vas. Hold on for a second.”
Vasel slides over, looking politely curious. “Coach? May I help you with something?” He asks, in perfect, accented English.
“Actually, yes. I need you to take Carter Morgan out.” He stares at me, and I wait. He’s too polite to tell me to fuck off. Poor kid just backed himself into a corner.
“I do not think he will want me to take him out,” he says, which is fair.
