But I suspect this guy has a wild side hidden somewhere. He must…to be a hockey player. Although he’s only a year older than me, his British formality makes him appear closer to Gabe’s age. I wonder if his reservedness has more to do with shyness. He rarely says anything unless we’re on the ice.
When I approach the glass wall separating the coaches’ office from the main locker room, Gabe and Derek are standing in front of a whiteboard with a rink diagram covered in red and blue marks.
I clear my throat as I walk in. Both cast looks over their shoulders before turning around as they cap their markers.
Gabe’s welcoming grin encourages me to move forward with my plan. “How’s it going, Luke?”
I close the door for privacy since several of the guys are changing to get ready for practice. Derek shoots a semi-concerned glance at Gabe, whose smile appears more like an attempt to stay positive than a reaction to seeing me. I’m guessing they expected this visit from me, so I’ll get right to the point.
“I think you should pick a different captain.”
Gabe leans on the edge of his desk thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”
I let out a soft snort. Surely they’ve noticed how the guys behave around me. Maybe if they’d integrated me into the team first, gave me time to prove myself, and then made me captain, this would have worked. But as the saying goes, the cat’s out of the bag, and there’s no way to get it back in without getting scratched.
Derek keeps his stance by the whiteboard and crosses his arms but says nothing. His expression remains unreadable, but I’ve noticed that’s his MO most of the time.
“I think it’s pretty obvious. Don’t you?”
Gabe clasps his hands in front of him. “It’s only the first week, Luke. You need to give it more time.”
I run a hand over my mouth, realizing I didn’t shave. As the Kelly Cup playoffs get closer, I’ll quit shaving altogether, but in the interim, I prefer a smooth face. That just shows how distracted I was this morning with this decision.
“They trust Ethan. Make him captain.”
Gabe shakes his head, but before he can say anything, Derek jumps in.
“Just keep playing the game. They’ll catch on.”
I grunt but try to contain my pessimism…somewhat. “You really think that’ll do it?”
Judging by the way Derek retracts his head like a turtle, he’s making an effort not to react.
I sigh. “Look, I’m not trying to weasel out of anything. I just think this isn’t going to work.”
More like, I’m not sureIcan make this work. Right now, this gig feels like a dumpster fire on the verge of turning into a full-blown inferno.
“Our first game is in a few weeks. That’s not much time.”
Gabe nods. “I know, but I have confidence in you, Luke. As I recall, you filled in for your captain on the Barracudas for a few games when he was injured.”
He’s talking about himself. And yes, I filled in because we didn’t have an alternate captain. “Yes, but that was different. The guys knew me. We had history.”
Derek’s expression turns incredulous. “Which is why I said to keep at it. Give the guys more time.”
I shove my hands into the pockets of my trainers. “For how long?”
Gabe’s voice is soft but firm. “For as long as it takes. You can do this, Luke. Derek and I discussed this for weeks before I approached you. In our minds, you’re the best one suitedfor the role.”
Weeks? Interesting…and both of them. I split my gaze between them, searching for any sign that they’re not still on the same page, but all I see is a solid wall of agreement.
Maybe they’re right that I need to give it more time. But the closer that first game comes, the more unsure I’m feeling.
Sure, I’ll admit it felt kind of good to get back on the ice. Okay, it felt great. Something lying dormant came alive again. Kind of like those resurrection ferns covering a low branch on the oak tree in my backyard. My mother used to love seeing them spring back to life when the rainy season started.
“All right. Fine. Then give me some pointers here. Something that will help.” I keep my eyes averted because I don’t want them to see what I’m really grappling with. This isn’t just about winning a bunch of guys over so they’ll accept my leadership. I haven’t played in almost two years. What if I’ve lost my edge and suck at the game? In a way, I have more to prove than the rookies. With them, there’s an expected learning curve, but for me? I’m at the risk of ranking as a subpar player—a plug. That’s not a good look.
And they won’t follow a player they don’t respect.
