adam
Like I've said a million times before, there's something so relaxing about skating on an empty rink.
It's like my version of the old saying, "the calm after the storm." Something about it just relaxes me in ways I can't explain, and I don't think any feeling will ever be able to compare to this. It's one of those things you know you'll miss once it's gone, and I know that I'm going to more than I can imagine when I eventually stop playing.
While that isn't something I see happening anytime soon, I can't help but let my mind wander and imagine what would happen if hockey was just taken away from me one day. I don't know what I'd do if my career suddenly ended, and I'd be put in the same situation as my dad. Maybe that's why he's always been so hard on my brother and I, he sees himself in us and what he was before the knee injury that ruined his career.
I don't know why I'm being so philosophical all of a sudden, because this isn't usually like me. Maybe it's the weed, but I can't be too sure though. I'd never smoked before Saint Patrick's Day, and it's become a habit even though I've tried not to make it one. I know it's bad, but it helps me deal with the stresses of life when I need an escape.
Fuckin' Larson. I was too drunk to say no when he offered me some and I've never really had another coping mechanism other than hockey, so I caved. I don't think he meant it in a bad way, especially because he's been smoking way longer than I have. At least I'm not looking at it as a bad thing, because it's the only thing that's been stopping me from giving him another bloody nose.
Practice isn't for another hour, but I want to take advantage of the fresh ice while I can. I know Orion would be annoyed if he found out that I've been cutting up the ice before every practice, so that's why every time I'm here, I always slip the zamboni guy a few bills to go over it again once I finish up. He's a good guy and doesn't get paid enough for what he does, so I don't think he minds the extra cash. Besides, I like helping him out when I can.
I spend my time skating aimlessly, with really no end goal in mind. Just circles and circles around the rink, letting the cool breeze zip by me as I pick up speed. There really is nothing like skating on freshly zambonied ice. There are no cracks to mess you up and nothing to throw off your stride. Everything is just so... perfect.
When I've finally worked up a sweat, I skate over to the exit and slow myself down, sending a flurry of snow onto the rubber floor beneath me. Bill, the zamboni driver, chuckles to himself as I give him a smirk and a wad of cash. "You might want to work on your stop there, eh kid?"
"Oh please." I fire back, the smirk on my face growing into a smile. "I'm committed to the number one college hockey school in the nation. I think my stop is just fine."
"Go get ready for practice." he says, giving me little shove as I walk past him. "I'd pay to see Orion kick your ass one of these days, even though you've been good about not getting caught."
I turn around and flip him the bird, but he knows I'm joking. "Well good thing today isn't that day, Mr. Nelson. Have a good day."
"Go get 'em kid!" I hear him call as I walk down the hallway and into the locker room. I love the relationship I've built with him over these past few years, this one especially. He's one of the few people I go to when I'm upset, because I know he won't judge me for how I feel. That, and he doesn't sugarcoat anything. He'll tell me the truth no matter how much I don't want to hear it, and I have so much respect for him because of it.
I'm the first one in the locker room, like I always am after I free skate. I throw on my equipment and tape up my stick, enjoying the peace and quiet while I can. It's honestly nice having the quiet time to myself, because it can get pretty rowdy at times with my teammates around.
My relaxation period lasts for maybe another twenty seconds until the door suddenly slams open and a bunch of my teammates shuffle in, hooting and hollering as they make their way to their stalls and start suiting up. I should be more used to this, but I can't stop myself from looking over at Connie with a confused expression. Of course, she just shrugs, smiles at me and looks away, her not so subtle way of telling me to deal with it.
Soon enough, we're on the ice and doing some three-on-two drill Orion loves. He splits the team in half and throws one half behind the net to play defense, and the other half near the blue line to play forward. About halfway through, we'll switch sides, so that way everyone can play both positions.
It's a simple drill really, the three forwards start with the puck and make up some sort of play while the two defenders try and stop them. We go through the first rotation like normal, because all of us are playing our normal positions. When we switch is when it always gets interesting.
Of course, my plays are the most creative of the first rotation, especially when I'm paired up with Charlie and Guy. Even though Charlie and I are both centers, whenever we're paired up together we create the most unreal plays. Maybe I should convince him to switch to wing.
I don't think that would make a difference now, considering the season ended months ago and he already committed to play center at Princeton. I don't know how that fucker even convinced the coaching staff to sign him, considering he's passing by the skin of his teeth in every class but math, but who knows. From what my mom says, they'll hire him a tutor to get him where he needs to be, but it's still hard to believe.
Anyway, once the first rotation has gone on for enough time, Orion makes all of the defenseman go to the blue line and all of the forwards go behind the net. The first pair to skate out for D is Connie and myself, her on the left and me on the right when you're looking at us from the blue line. Our opponents are Fulton, Dean, and Teddy, and I can't lie and say I'm not nervous. They all have a rocket of a shot and the last thing I need right now is to get hurt.
When the whistle blows, I take off towards the puck. Fulton had it, but dropped it off to Teddy who crossed behind him. Since Connie went to cover Teddy, the entire right side is open, where Dean's currently waiting. I read Teddy's pass to Dean, and dive as I throw my body onto the ice so that I can block the shot.
Time almost seemed to move in slow motion as I watched Dean's stick wind back, heard the crack of the shot, and prepared myself for the pain that would come when some part of my arm would block the shot. It'd sting for a second, I'd be fine, and move on.
However, that didn't happen. Not even close to what I prepared myself for. The puck strikes my right wrist, my good wrist, right on the part that isn't covered by my glove.
And suddenly, nothing is the same.
I crumble into a ball as I slide across the ice, barely hearing Orion's whistle blow and his worried yell that follows. "BANKS! You alright kid? Where did it hit?"
I ignore his questions, instead sitting up and cradling my wrist with my other arm. I don't think I can support it without having my arm under it, which is all I need to know to realize it's bad. Now the only thing I need to know is how long I'm going to be out for, because I really can't afford a setback like this.
I don't even notice Orion until he's right beside me with his hand on my shoulder. He takes one look at my face and barks out an order for help, and within seconds Dean and Fulton are by his side. "I'm so fucking sorry Banksie." Dean rushes out, looking as white as a ghost. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you with that shot. If I saw you earlier I wouldn't have shot it, I swear."
"Don't sweat it." I manage to get out, my face twisting in pain as the three of them help me to my feet. Since I don't exactly have use of my arms at the moment and I'm also on fucking skates, getting to my feet is a struggle. When I'm standing upright, I skate right off the ice and head to Tavia's office. I don't bother to grab any of my street clothes because I know she's going to call my parents anyway.
"What's shakin' Superstar?" Tavia asks with a smile as I walk in, but that quickly falls as she sees my current state. Her eyes go wide and she silently walks to the phone, nodding her head towards the chairs as she silently tells me to take a seat.
The loud ring of the phone echos throughout the room, and my stomach drops when I hear Tavia say, "Hi, Mr. Banks?"
"Speaking." my dad answers from the other end. "What can I do for you?"
"My name is Tavia, and I'm calling from the athletic center at Eden Hall. Adam has gotten into a pretty bad accident during hockey practice and has a very clear wrist injury. Although he is a senior, I still do have to contact a parent because he isn't yet eighteen and can't leave campus on his own. Not only that, but I really don't think he's in any position to do anything due to his injury.
A string of curses come through the phone and I watch Tavia try her best not to laugh. Then, the burning question comes. "How bad is it?"
Tavia looks back at me for a second, then steps into the hallway. I watch as the phone cord stretches, probably because she doesn't want me to hear for whatever reason. Of the words I do pick up, "hospital" and "x-ray" are among them, along with the one I was praying I wouldn't hear.
Surgery.
Now, like I've said a million times before, I'm not a crier. But right now, hearing those words leave Tavia's mouth, there's nothing I want to do more than curl up into a ball with a bunch of blankets and bawl my fucking eyes out. If this is as bad as I'm thinking it is, then my career could be over.
And the worst part of all this?
It was only just beginning.
**a/n**
don't hate me.
no i swear, don't. it'll work out. also sorry i haven't updated in so long midterms kind of ruined everything. i'm going to try and update more frequently, especially because i know exactly where i want this story to go. see you guys soon! byeeeeeeee