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“I’m here to stay,” I tell him.
“Then the next time you’re thinking about not passing the puck during a play, erase that thought… and fast. This is a team sport. We travel as a team, we play as a team, we win or lose as a team. If you want to play an individual sport, go play tennis,” he says and then hits play on his tablet and relaxes back against the headrest again, closing his eyes.
That must be the end of his motivational speech.
My guess?
Sam or Coach Bex put him up to it, and he wanted to botch it so badly that he made sure they never asked him to do it again.
Mission accomplished.
For the love of God, no one asks this guy to give a best man speech.
Chapter Seven
Penelope
The team is coming home today after being gone for the last three days.
Autumn, Tessa, Isla, and Berkeley have been over to my apartment for every game, and we’ve cheered on our team to victory for all three games. We’re just that much closer now to making it to the playoffs, and I can feel the nervous energy from all of us girls sitting around the TV as we try not to bite our nails during every play at the net.
I hate to admit that Slade seems to be playing well, and sharing the puck better than I heard he had been last week in practice. However, he still spent more time than Lake and Kaenan combined over the last three games in the penalty box… and that’s an impressive record considering Lake and Kaenan spend a lot of time in the sin bin.
A record that I’m sure is making Coach Bex and my father want to rip out their own hair.
He's supposed to be playing on the ice, not watching from the time-out box like the bad little boy he’s being. Not that there is anything little about Slade Matthews… his size, his hits against the players, his slapshot, or the way the Hawkeyes fans are already going wild for him in the stands.
I head in early this morning to get my morning skate in, happy to know that the team was scheduled to get in at the butt crack of dawn. Therefore, Slade should still be asleep and nowhere near the rink this morning.
I’m surprised when my phone alerts me to an email that comes through my old SkatrGirlPen address. It’s not often that I get messages anymore to this email account. I primarily use it when signing up for bill pay or junk mail, like subscriptions.
Most of my email correspondence is in a professional capacity, which means I usually give out my official Hawkeyes work email.
When I open my inbox to see who the sender is, my heart flutters with excitement.
I never thought I’d hear from him again with how he left things, and I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t wonder about him occasionally.
Where did he end up?
Why couldn’t he email me from there?
Did he get married and start a family?
I have so many questions about the guy that I started tutoring a few weeks into my junior fall semester at the University of Washington. The thoughtful and kind soul of a person who seemed to know me so well and knew exactly what to say when I needed it most, even though we never met in person.
Embarrassingly, I had fallen for a guy that I never met in person while corresponding online. I emailed him, asking to meet up in person, but he pushed off the issue, citing finals before graduation, and though I understood, I still remember what the sting of rejection felt like.
Who has a crush on a person they’ve never even seen at least a picture of?
During the times when Slate was ruining my life, WinTheDay067 knew how to bring me back and calm me. He made me feel understood and seen during a dark time for me when rumors were swirling around that Slade Matthews was my father’s unofficial bodyguard and that any male who got close to me would be clobbered on the spot.
I probably gave too much away about my situation at the college, even though we agreed to stay anonymous at the beginning of our tutoring arrangement. I’m sure he figured out who I was. If that’s the case, maybe he wasn’t attracted to me. Or maybe he didn’t want to be associated with me on campus with all the gossip surrounding the Slade’s threat.
So I didn’t push the issue again. Rejection by the entire male skating community and by any athlete who might have had an interest in dating me before was about as much as I could handle.
The only thing is that it didn’t seem that Win was intimidated by hearing Slade’s threat. He only seemed concerned with how I was handling it. Losing him was my last straw and I dropped out of school promptly after.
I’ve yet to find anyone since that has ever given me that feeling like Win did. He made me feel giddy and excited whenever I saw his email in my inbox. I felt safe to share my hopes, dreams, and even the difficult things I was going through at that time.
