My friend didn’t see the way Banning looked at me. Finn was a sweet guy, scrappy on the ice, but often naïve when it came to everything else. Finn shouldn’t be playing with guys like me; he should be protected at all costs. My teammate reminded me of my brother, and that soft spot in my heart that was reserved for the select few, warmed.
“Thanks,” I offered. “I’ll try to keep the negative shit out of my head.”
“Exactly,” Finn urged. “You need a mindset reset.”
“Fuck, please don’t go all sports psychology on me,” I muttered. “You know I’m not into that woowoo shit.”
Finn rolled his eyes, and it made me chuckle.
“It’s not woowoo. It works.”
“I’m not entirely sure it’s working out for us.” I sighed. “We’re stuck here with extra practice.”
“Jace is our top scorer and he’s right here with us,” Finn added and stepped off the ice first.
“That’s because him and Axel weren’t working together.”
“They are now,” Finn replied. “So, why’s Coach still got them practicing with us? Huh? Well?”
Finn had a point.
“That I don’t know.”
“See? You’re being paranoid for nothing. Coach doesn’t have it in for you. He’s trying to push you to be better.”
Did I want to believe Finn? Yes. Did I? Not entirely.
“Look, I can admit that I didn’t play the way I wanted to in the fall, and it wasn’t easy coming back,” I replied and followed Finn down the hallway to the locker room. “But I feel like things are clicking with the team, and I’m working hard. I want Coach to recognize that.”
“We’re playing for the national championship, Silas. What more do you want?”
I wanted it all. I wanted to be the best.
But there was more. Truthfully? I wanted Coach’s approval. His praise.
Shit.
“You’re right. I should listen to you and shut up.”
“Don’t do that.” Finn chuckled. “You’d explode if you couldn’t say something sarcastic every day.”
I playfully nudged him with my elbow.
“Have faith in yourself,” he added.
We entered the locker room, and it was damp and drafty as usual. I shivered but it was my nerves talking, not the temperature. A lot was riding on this final game of the season.
“I work my ass off, but, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like I’m enough,” I admitted. “I had a plan, but so far, I’m still not where I want to be. And what if going pro doesn’t happen? I mean, I’m okay to go on and be an accountant?—”
“An accountant that looks like a biker,” Finn teased.
I gave him my tatted finger in response.
“You know you’ll come to me when you need help with your books,” I snarked.
“Me?” Finn asked, his eyes widening.
“Yes, you. When you go pro, you’re not going to hand your money to a stranger, right? You need someone who knows what they’re doing. Even if it’s not me, you gotta do your research and hire the right people to manage your money.”
