Forever Pucked (Pucked 4)

Training with the team is good and bad, because I can see how much ground I’ve lost being out the past six weeks.

Coach wants me to have realistic expectations, as does my team of doctors and the physical therapist. My right shoulder is weak, and reconditioning is going to be slow. But I didn’t get where I am by taking things easy, and I definitely don’t plan to start now. At least there’s no figure skating required for rehab.

Next week I’m allowed back on the ice for practice, but on game days I’ll continue to sit my ass on the bench and watch everyone else doing what I should be.

The team dynamic has shifted; Ballistic seems to be a new favorite. He’s getting lots of ice time and scoring goals almost every game. He’s an excellent player, and the team is solid. Playoffs are on the horizon, and it looks like we might make it. And that would be primarily because of him.

I really want to hate him. Part of me does because he threatens my position, but the other part of me is glad he’s meshing with the team and we’re not lagging behind as bad as we were in the middle of the season. We’re still not in a great place, though, so who knows what will happen. If we make it far enough, I might have a chance to play at least a couple of games. Maybe. If I’m lucky.

“You all right, man?” Darren asks.

“Eh?” I realize I’m staring out the window.

“You’re awfully distracted. You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just thinking.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t buy that for a second, but nice try. What’s the problem?”

I shrug.

“You worried about rehab?” He’s going to push me until I talk. That’s why we’re tight.

“Yeah.”

“Wanna give me more than that, Waters?” He stops at a light, watching me carefully.

“It’s the same concerns. Nothing new.”

He taps the steering wheel. “I think you need to stop focusing on what you’re not accomplishing and start looking at what you are.”

“I know I’m lucky it’s not worse than it is. I get that, but Ballistic is running the game out there, and I’m on the sidelines watching it happen.”

He nods, and the silence extends, which isn’t unusual with Darren. He weighs his words before he uses them. “You also need to consider that all this time watching is giving you a different perspective on the team. When you’re back on the ice, you’re going to know what to expect and how to plan for it. Randy’s not going to usurp you because he’s had one good season.”

He’s right, but it still sucks. I run a frustrated hand through my hair. Soon I’ll be able to make one of those man bun things like Ballistic if I don’t get it cut.

At my silence, he continues. “Just take it slow, Alex. You don’t want to push too hard too fast and end up setting yourself back.”

“I just want to be with my team.”

He pats my shoulder. “I know, man, and you will. It’s just not gonna happen as fast as you’d like.”

Everything he says is true, but it doesn’t make me feel better.

I prepare myself for the back pats I know are coming when I join the team in the training room. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been at it for a while now; every training session is hard. Especially since I’m unable to keep up with the rest of the team.

Miller drops down beside me on the bench while I do forearm curls with weights Violet could probably use.

“How’s it goin’?”

“All right.” My prior hockey injuries have been minor compared to this, with rehab being limited to weeks, not months before I was back in the game.

“This isn’t easy, huh?” He gestures to the weight I’m holding.

“It’ll get easier.” I change the subject to avoid discussing how long recovery is going to take and what I’m going to miss out on because of it. I’m lucky this isn’t ending my career, I remind myself. “How’s my sister doing this morning?” I haven’t had a chance to check in with her today, though that’s become a habit.

“Good. Great.” He moves to the edge of the bench and gets into position for triceps dips. “The morning sickness phase has finally passed. I don’t know why they call it that. I mean, the barfing isn’t limited to the morning. It was, like, all day, every day for a while. Anyway, she’s not hurling anymore, so I’m glad about that. Apparently Skye barfed every day with Vi, so it could be worse, right?”

This really isn’t a conversation I ever expected to have with Miller. At least not this soon. “I’m glad that part is over.”

“She’s feeling great these days. Lots of energy. Horny as he—” He cringes. “Sorry.”

“Violet says a lot worse.”