ROWAN
When I walk through my coach's door, half-wet hair, I hear Millie's words in my head, and I talk without thinking about what I'm saying.
"You're not my father, and I'm the one who decides my fate" I say in my nervousness, and my coach from behind his desk looks at me expressionlessly.
He sighs and massages the bridge of his nose.
"I'd like to ask you what's wrong with you, but I think maybe it's better if I don't know. Please be honest" he looks up at me. "Do you do drugs?"
Dammit!
"No, Coach," I sigh, and close the door behind me. I put my bag down and walk over to the chair, where I don't cut myself off very elegantly. "I'd like to talk to you."
"About drugs?"
"No," I shake my head violently. "I'm just nervous, sorry."
Coach Goldberg is very fit as a fifty-year-old man, but I can still see the stress and fatigue he's been experiencing during the championship. He's always making the most of the team, not just you. That's why I don't want to disappoint him, but as Millie said, it's my life, it's my decision.
"It's about my future plans."
"Ah, yes," he says in his chair. "Have you ever wondered which teams you'd prefer in the NHL draft?"
"Doesn't it matter? After all, I don't get to decide," I shrug.
"Rowan," he sighed. "Sport isn't just about you being the best, it's about building relationships."
"I don't really have a relationship with the New Jersey Devils" I admit it because they were my dream team when I was in high school. Back when I couldn't decide who I really was or what I wanted. I don't have that problem anymore. Creation is definitely my passion.
"Maybe you don't, but that's why the meetings I'm taking you to are important. Relationships, Queen."
I didn't attend last time. I said I was sick, but instead I was partying and drinking by myself... I don't even remember that night, I was just angry because I felt there was too much expectation about me.
"That's what I want to talk about. Oh, my God, I'm actually sitting here with my dad." I don't want to play hockey, I say, but I'll hit myself in the back of the head again when I see the coach's puzzled expression. I mean, but I shake my head. "I want to play hockey, but I don't want to be in the NHL."
"You look pretty upset, Queen."
"Believe me, I've been chewing on this for months," I laugh bitterly. " It's not just a flare-up or a boredom on my part."
"All right, you don't want to be a professional," he shakes his head. "That may change, of course, but then why do you care? Maybe you want to be a coach? It's a good call, but I have to say in advance that you have to work with a lot of assholes."
"Are you talking about us?" My lip twitches.
"You see, you know what I'm talking about," he looks at me with satisfaction.
"Coach Goldberg," I say in a raspy voice. "It's not a coincidence that I changed my degree. I don't want to be serious about hockey. I will continue to give it my full weight because team and sport are important to me. " I owe him a lot, but honestly, it's never been more than a hobby for me. "Of course, in the past, I may have played with the idea of what it would be like, but I never really saw myself there, okay? I'm telling you because for a while... I've been questioning where I really belong. I feel like there's too much pressure from my teammates because everyone expects me to end up with the pros."
And the girls. They just see me as another NHL salvation.
"If it's just about pressure..."
"No," I say firmly. "I've been working in a tattoo parlour next to a school for years, and I've never been happier than when I was there. This is my way," I shrugged. "And now that I'm closer to this world, it's becoming more and more certain" I'm referring to my relationship with Millie.
The coach is looking at me thoughtfully, and I know he's trying to figure out how serious I am. Well, since I know the truth, I'm not worried anymore.
"Does anyone on the team know about this? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're the one who's on your side."
"It doesn't mean I have a duty to follow their dream," I say. "By the way, some people know, and I never hid it."
Let's just say I didn't go against their assumptions. Until now.
"I don't recognize you, Queen," he grins. "You've never been more purposeful."
"I'm surrounded by good people."
"You don't have to thank me," he says proudly, and I'd rather not react. "If you take a suggestion from me."
"Anything."
"Take part in the selection."
"Why?"
"So you can have your chance and not regret it later." Even if you don't want to do anything about it, you should have a chance. It's okay to walk on multiple legs these days.
I didn't think of that. The tension in me was that I felt I had to split up, but that way, that I would actually take advantage of every opportunity even if I felt I didn't need it in this case, I would become more relaxed. So somehow I don't feel afraid of whether tattoo work will work or not, I don't feel like I have to put everything on one thing. Besides, it would only add to my confidence if I was chosen, and if I really coached in the future, it could even be useful as a reference.
"You're right," I say.
We'll discuss a few more things about the next game, but before I leave the office, he'll come after me absentmindedly.
"You're lucky to find such a girl, Queen."
"What?" I turn back.
"The girl who helped you clear things up. You're lucky there's someone to support you."
"From where..." I look at him confused.
"I see everything, Queen," he says, his lips twitching. "I've been in the business for twenty years, and I'll see if anyone changes. When the time comes, they all change," he says, and I'm still digesting his words when I'm in the parking lot.
*
R: I told him he wasn't my father. Thanks, Mills for the advice...
M: Wait a minute. Did you start with that?
R: Exactly! Because, you know, I really take advice, not just hear it. Ps:. He asked me what kind of drugs I was taking.
M: Laugh, Rows! I laugh! I don't know whether to continue laughing or softening because you took my words so seriously. :3
R: Laugh quietly... Can I „beating" your sexy ass?
M: I think I drowned. Please come to my funeral.
R: You don't cut through, I know you wrote it... maybe I'm an athlete, but my IQ doesn't stop below 140. ; )
M: You're not a real athlete, just a hobby disk beater. You're a real artist!
R: Puck... Ouch! I think I need you to come to my game, Mills.
M: Gosh, what I've been unwittingly... I have to make you sad, I have no idea of the rules of hockey.
R: I'll put the best man in the room to explain everything to you. And you'll end up with a date.
M: We're a bit ambitious, aren't we?
R: I need a second date quickly before the third, because I really have ambitious plans for you on that. I mean, it's not just me...
M: You're not trying to get me to group sex, are you, Queen?
R: No... but you have to answer one of my questions. She is single?
M: You're not trying to get me on a sweet threesome with my best friend, are you, Queen?
R: Double date, dummy. Double date! Concentrate. PS:. Sorry, Jo's not my type. She's really got too much tongue, and I can't stand her anymore. :/
M: I don't blame you. Who would be Jo's partner?
R: A friend of mine. Dylan Rhodes. You want a picture of him? Can you measure him just like Jo did me?
R: Cancel! I don't want Rhodes' asshole to get tested by my girl.
M: One, are you afraid Rhodes' ass is hotter than yours? (I doubt it.) Number two, am I your girl?
R: I'm not afraid of him. I know you're into my backside, baby.
R: We're dating, so, yeah, you're my girl. I'm sorry, this came out like crap. Can I be your boyfriend? Please.
M: On the second date, I decide, which seems to be just a bridge to the third. Admit it, your main goal is not me, but getting Rhodes and Jo together.
M: How did this come about, by the way?
R: Dylan's lonely, and it's hard to find a girl to date seriously. When I met Jo, I thought I could set him up with my buddy.
M: Jo is a wildcat, and Dylan is a wildcat based on what I saw, and for a star soccer player, he's... he's a ingenue...
R: Exactly, Mills. You see the logic here.
M: You want to joke about them...
R: There's no way I can't watch Jo stalking Rhodes. It'll be worth all the money. Tell me you're in!
M: I'm sorry Rhodes... Good, Jo will eat him alive... I like it!