“Fuck this,” he says, skating away.
“Either come back tomorrow ready to play, or be prepared to watch from the bench.”
He doesn’t say a word, just skates off the ice and disappears.
The rest of the practice runs smoothly, but you can feel the tension in the air. Brayden and I can’t continue like this. If something doesn’t change, we can consider this season over before it even begins.
Figuring it’s best to talk to him without the other guys there, I pull up his schedule and see he has classes in the morning and then his afternoon is free. The guys usually use that time to get a workout in. Maybe I can pull him aside so we can talk.
When I get to the rink, he’s skating the ice with a couple other guys. Not wanting to interrupt, I have a seat and watch. Much like every time I’ve seen him practicing this week, he doesn’t laugh or joke with the guys. He doesn’t smile or say anything positive. He focuses on what he needs to do and keeps to himself. He’s nothing like the guy I used to play hockey with before—
“Andrew Thompson, is that you?”
I glance up and find Brayden’s dad standing over me. “Mr. Murphy.” I stand and extend my hand. Growing up, I practically lived at the Murphys’. Even after everything went down with Brayden and me, they would still insist I come over for the holidays. After my dad passed away in high school, they went to the funeral. Mr. Murphy helped me handle everything legally, and Mrs. Murphy made sure I was situated at my grandmother’s.
“Please, Son, it might’ve been a minute, but you’re still family. Call me Tim.”
“Tim, how are you?” We both have a seat, facing the ice.
“Okay,” he says. “Keeping busy with the firm.” Tim is a lawyer with a small law firm in town. He dedicates most of his time to helping those who can’t afford representation. Brayden always complained his dad was a waste of a law degree. He could easily make more money, but he chose to use his license for good.
“How’s Molly?”
“Still teaching at the preschool.” He smiles lovingly at the mention of his wife. “Loves it.”
“You come here to watch Brayden often?”
When we were younger, it was always Brayden’s parents who were at our practices and games. Brayden’s mom who would organize the end of the season parties. My dad would call from the road asking how it was going, fund whatever our team needed, but he was never hands-on, and because of that, I always envied Brayden and his family, wishing I had a piece of what they had.
“Not enough,” Tim admits sadly. “It’s been a while since he’s come home, though. Isn’t answering our calls. So I thought I would drop by, that way he couldn’t ignore me. His mother is worried and asked me to drag him home for dinner.” He sighs. “She misses him. We both do.”
I nod, suddenly pissed at Brayden for the way he’s acting toward his parents. Here he is with two parents who are alive and want to be a part of his life, and he’s pushing them both away. Not that my dad wasn’t a good dad. He was, but he was a young, single father in the NHL, which meant I was raised more by nannies than my own dad.
“I heard you were the new coach,” Tim says, cutting me from the thoughts. “How’s it going?”
“It’s been… challenging.” I scrub my hand over my scruffy face.
“I bet Brayden isn’t making it any easier.”
“Oh, uh, well… He’s…”
Tim glances my way and smirks. “You don’t have to try to cover for my son. I know how much of a pain in the ass he can be.”
“Let’s just say he isn’t thrilled I’m here.”
Tim nods in understanding. “Come to dinner tonight.”
“Oh, I’m not sure—”
“Six o’clock,” he adds, cutting me off. “Molly will be thrilled to see you again. It’s been too long.” Then he stands and exits before I can argue.
Well, okay then. I guess I’ll be having dinner with the Murphys tonight.This is not happening.
Unbelievable.
“Your mother is going to be thrilled,” Dad says, grinning. “See you at six.”
After saying goodbye to my dad, I head for the showers. The guys joke around with me, but I’m not interested. I quickly shower and then dress. When I finish, I see Drew talking to Holden and one of the other guys. I want to ask him how the hell he managed to weasel his way into having dinner at my house, but I don’t bother. It won’t change anything, and I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me riled up.
I’ve got a few hours to kill until dinner, so I head over to the tutoring center. My grades aren’t going to raise themselves.