Meet Me at the Graveyard

Calix Walker

MILA'S POINT OF VIEW

The man approached us and I held my breath, praying he wasn't who I feared. It couldn't be him, not after two years.

The guy stopped right in front of me. I held his gaze, refusing to waver or break eye contact. My pulse quickened. What did he want?

"Mila," Jason called, thank God he did. I could finally tear my gaze away from the guy. I turned toward Jason. "Meet the team captain, Calix Walker," he said, and my blood turned to ice.

Calix. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Was his last name Walker? My memory blurred at the edges. Two years had passed since I'd met someone named Calix, someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to the man now standing before me.

"Calix, this is Mila Novikava. She's our new assistant coach starting today." Jason's introduction jolted me from my thoughts. I turned to face Calix and found his eyes already locked on mine, intense, unreadable, and unsettling in a way that made my pulse quicken.

Our eyes locked, and in that instant, I knew, the same man from two years ago stood before me. Recognition flickered across his face, but his blank stare suggested his memory held nothing. I prayed it stayed that way. Whatever he'd forgotten about me, I intended to keep buried.

He suddenly extended his hand for a handshake. I frowned before accepting the gesture, my fingers closing around his. "It's nice to meet you, Mila," he said, releasing my hand and letting his arm fall to his side. "I hope we get to work together." I mirrored the movement, but something in his tone made my skin prickle with unease.

My heart hammered so violently I thought it might shatter my ribs. Each thunderous beat threatened to expose me, yet when his hand clasped mine, firm, detached, utterly professional, a strange calm settled over my panic. He didn't recognize me. Not even a flicker of recognition crossed his face. Relief flooded through my veins, though I couldn't shake the question: how long would this anonymity last?

Although I wasn't sure about working with the team. These guys didn't impress me one bit and I didn't feel motivated to watch them play anymore.

"Calix, why would you want her to work with us?" Leon's question hung in the air.

Calix turned, his face cold as ice. There he was, the man I'd met two years ago. A cold, emotionless robot who'd once looked at me the exact same way before everything fell apart.

"She's been assigned to us. Why would I have a problem with that?"he coldly asked Leon.

Leon shrugged. "She clearly doesn't want to work with us. She called us mediocre. She's very unprofessional too. Me, as well as everyone else, think that she doesn't deserve us and as our captain you should be supporting us. You know we are right."Leon said.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. These men were turning this on me, blaming me for a conflict they'd ignited with their hostility. They believed a woman had no place among them. Yes, I'd acted unprofessionally, but they'd pushed every button I had, and they knew it.

Calix remained silent. The entire rink held its breath. I waited, pulse hammering, knowing what would come next. He'd side with his teammates, he had to. Against them, I was nothing, and we both knew it.

"If she called us mediocre, then it's because we are," Calix said suddenly, and my eyes widened with shock. That admission caught me completely off guard.

"Captain...."they all complained but Calix interrupted them.

"And the fact that you think otherwise is the reason why you are all mediocre."he addressed everyone with his eyes burning through everyone. "We have lost every single game lately and you all can afford to be deluded enough to think that is not what mediocre is? We are in fact losers."he told them.

Wow, that's the team captain for you. He was the no-nonsense type, huh? I liked that. This team had someone to keep them in check, I'd been worried they were being coddled too much.

"You can't talk like that," Leon retorted. I gasped, a little surprised. He was brave to speak back, I had to admit. "You just joined the team months ago. What do you know about mediocre? Your parents bought you this position for whatever god-damned reason and made you captain right away. You didn't earn it. You're not better than us." Leon paused, his jaw tight. "So don't speak about us like you are."

Damn. There was a lot to unpack about this team.

No teamwork. No respect for their coach, their captain, or each other. Just mediocre players stumbling through practice. But something deeper gnawed at me, what had Leon meant when he said Calix's parents bought his position? Corruption ran through this team like rot through timber. These people purchased their spots instead of earning them. My chest tightened with disappointment, but beneath it, a darker question surfaced: what else were they hiding?

"I earned my position," Calix said coldly, his long index finger sweeping across the room. "They made me Captain because none of you surpass me. That's how mediocre you all are."

"I don't think so," Leon countered. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "I looked you up. No records exist of you playing hockey anywhere before you joined this team. You've never touched a stick in your life, yet somehow, you stepped onto this ice and played like a pro."

I could only listen to the drama. This was getting complicated. It wasn't about me anymore, it was about Calix. I think Leon didn't like him much. They were both young, these things happen. I recall at their age, in my early twenties, I was pretty feisty. It's a phase I guess. I didn't want to take this so seriously but I didn't want to miss out on the drama either. Jason, seemed to not want to get involved and just like me, he was watching from the sidelines and listening.

"So you're saying it's my fault that I played hockey for the first time in my life and still outperformed you, someone who's been skating since childhood?" Calix's words hit me like a slap shot to the chest. I scoffed, but my stomach twisted. The truth crystallized in that moment: he'd bought his way onto the team. Someone, his father, probably, had greased the right palms, corrupted the one thing that should have been sacred. The realization burned through me. This wasn't just unfair. This was a war.

He boasted about surpassing players who had dedicated their entire lives to the sport. The injustice burned, others trained relentlessly while everything fell into his lap. He purchased his position, received his captain's title as a gift, and now claimed superiority over everyone else.

I'd privately considered them mediocre, but hearing Calix dismiss them so casually made my blood boil. What gave him the right? As someone who had clawed their way to the team captain through sweat and sacrifice, watching people like him buy their titles turned my stomach. Leon must have felt the same fury coursing through his veins.

Was Calix truly as skilled as he boasted? He struck me as the egotistical type, the kind of athlete who believed himself superior to everyone around him. I had once carried that same arrogance until life delivered its harsh lessons and brought me to my knees.

But most people who believed themselves superior to everyone else? They usually were. I'm probably biased, yet the truth remains: if you possess the confidence to consider yourself better than ninety percent of humanity, you likely are.

"This is so embarrassing."Jason sighed next to me. I turned to look at him. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and I could already tell he was stressed.

"Is this what goes on everyday?"I asked him.

He took a deep breath and turned to look at me. "You were right, this team is mediocre and it's stressing me out because everyone is expecting results but I don't think it's possible with how everyone is acting."he told me.

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to bail," Jason said, his voice dropping low. "God knows I want to. But I signed the contract, trapped myself in this mess. Now I have to train my replacement, groom some killer coach to take over. Until then, I'm stuck with them." He paused, meeting my eyes. "They're exhausting me, draining every last bit I have left."

The vulnerability in his confession caught me off guard. Whatever he was going through had pushed him to the edge. I couldn't find the words to respond.

"Please don't bail out," he suddenly told me, and I blinked. Didn't he just... "I know I said I'd be okay with you leaving, but don't." His eyes held mine with desperate intensity. "Save me. Please."

My pulse quickened. "Do you actually have faith in me, or are you just trying to dump this burden on someone else?"

"I'm being selfish making this request," he said, and I appreciated the honesty. "But I want to see your potential. You've never coached before, so I have nothing concrete to believe in. Despite that, I have a strong feeling you'll make an exceptional coach, judging from the caliber of hockey player you were. The general manager wasn't exaggerating when he said he thought you were the best player he had ever seen. I agree, and so do most people in that room. We understand about that loss. If we didn't, we wouldn't have contacted you with this offer."

Jason's words hit me hard. I blinked, pursing my lips, fighting back tears. No one had said anything this supportive, this comforting in months since what happened, happened.

"They hate me though," I said, taking a deep breath. "The team thinks I'm not worthy." I couldn't let tears fall in front of everyone, these guys would weaponize any sign of weakness.

Jason laughed. "They are just projecting their own fears, insecurities, their lack of star quality."

His words pulled a laugh from me despite everything. Perhaps working with these guys wouldn't be impossible after all.

I turned to look at Calix, and a fist came flying toward his face. Leon's punch connected before I could even gasp. When had we been so distracted that we'd missed the argument escalating into a full-blown fight? Damn it.