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24
BANKS
Coach sent a text late the other night letting me know about Lynx Adams coming back to the team. I’ll need to set up a meeting with him, review his classes, and make a game plan to keep him on track. He also warned me about some line changes, so come Monday, a few guys could be in bad moods and to not take it personally. I appreciated the heads up.
I’m still recovering from the shit the guys injected me with yesterday. I barely slept. Even when my eyes were closed, vivid images would wash over me. It felt like if I reached out, I could touch the stars. They were blue and pink and the moon was bright yellow. All of it surrounding me as I lay in bed.
Anytime I moved my head, they would move too, following me like I was their center. I should have felt honored having an entire universe focused on me, but in reality, it only made me feel dizzy and nauseous.
I hated it so much.
I felt like I was on the verge of crying, but I couldn’t, it wouldn’t let me. And my heart left my chest, floating in front of me, dark blue and red, beating rapidly. My hands tried to move it back inside of me, but it wouldn’t go back. By the time the tripended, it was well into the night. I was exhausted but still afraid to close my eyes.
Coach is the only person I’ve heard from since getting my phone back. A part of me was hopeful the guys would check in, make sure I was alive.
I’m only kidding myself with those thoughts, that will never happen. Delusional as the drugs. That’s me.
But as my mind wanders, I cannot help but think back on these past couple of weeks. Underneath all the ego, the mystery, and athletics, they are just two men who deserve the same love, compassion and protection from evil that the rest of us have. But what does one do when they are evil, and you crave more and more of it? When you don’t want protection from their evil, from them?
Standing up out of frustration, with myself and this entire fucking mess, I go to the kitchen and open my junk drawer. It’s where I put the money after I found it under my door that morning. They even divided it up perfectly for me. No math needed, all I had to do was hand it off to their professors.
Easy, right?
Not for me because here it sits in my home. Squeezing my eyes shut, I place my head down on the counter. I had no idea. If I had, I would have done it, maybe? The me of two weeks ago wouldn’t have. Who am I kidding? But I would have given their money back to them, told them they were out of their ever loving minds if they thought I would be their mule. Current me might have done it. Knowing what I know now, there is a strong possibility I would have helped those boys. It’s why I’m their advisor, to help them, to get them to graduation and walk across that stage collecting their degrees. To be able to play the sport they love and to fucking succeed. That is my job.
I have to do it when midterms come. Again for finals. May as well get used to the idea of it now.
I should be so mad right now. Should be enraged. I should be going to the police and reporting these sick and depraved bastards. They should be getting their daddy to pay for the best attorney money can buy to keep them out of jail.
The school and hockey association should be notified. Show them my scars, the brandings they placed on my body. Lifting my head up, I take a deep breath and open my eyes. I should be really fucking pissed, but… I’m not.
This person, this strange fucking person I have become, isn’t mad. She sees past their tough exterior. She sees all their broken pieces that lead them to the place they are now.
Does this make me broken too?
I slam the drawer closed. It’s settled.
Fuck the moral high ground.
Monday morning has comeand gone. I’ve been in my office the entire time, pulling Lynx’s grades, class schedule, and reading the notes on his file. All his previous professors say he was always quiet in class, keeping to himself and maintained decent grades.
The grades piece surprises me.
Addiction, combined with playing hockey, and staying on top of school isn’t the norm. He is Hudson’s winger, his go-to person. With my knowledge of addiction, it takes over your entire life, so the fact that he managed to stick with it all until it ultimately became too much is impressive. He went into rehab voluntarily too. He seems like a genuinely good kid that just got caught up in some bad shit.
It also notes that he is close with Raiden King, one of our defenseman, on the same line as Landon. Put those two together on ice, and watch out. It’s really an impressive showing.
He may just need some meetings at the beginning to get him used to being back, the routine and schedule. Then maybe move it to bi-weekly check-ins if everything seems like it is on track.
The guys haven’t popped in at all. Every so often, I hear someone walking by and I look up, wondering if it’s them. Coach checked in earlier; his mood seemed different. Maybe he had a rough holiday on top of the line changes. I lied about mine, obviously.
What was I going to say?Oh boy, I had the best time ever. I was forced to spend it in a cold basement and was practically naked all break. Let me tell you, the bed was a five-star stay. The best part was when I had to shit in a bucket with dried cum on my body. Highly recommend staying at the Cooper boys’ house the next chance you get.
Instead, I told him it was quiet, hung out at home, and relaxed. It was anything but that. If he only knew what lays beneath my sweater.
It’s getting cold in Groveton, colder than it was in December. Perfect for hockey season.
Getting up and deciding to escape the four walls I have barricaded myself in most of the day, I’m not paying attention when I bump into a strong body.
