Chapter 10
1340 Words
HAYDEN
Practice was hell.
I don’t mean the usual kind where your muscles burn and your lungs fight for air and the coach’s whistle feels like a scream in your eardrums. No, this was a different kind of hell.
The kind where your head's a f*****g mess and your body refuses to cooperate.
Every time I dropped back to throw, I felt like her eyes were on me even though she wasn’t there. Every time I ran a drill, I kept hearing her voice in that lecture hall.
Coleen Maine was haunting me.
“Michaels!” Coach Thompson’s voice thundered across the field. “What in God's name was that? My grandmother could make a f*****g slap shot!”
I gritted my teeth, yanked off my helmet, and ran a frustrated hand through my sweat-soaked hair.
“Sorry, Coach,” I muttered, already knowing I looked like crap out there.
“You’re not even trying today!” he barked, storming toward me like a defenseman on a mission. “What’s going on with you?”
“Just having a rough morning,” I said, avoiding eye contact.
Coach folded his arms, eyes narrowing like he could see straight through me. “That rough morning got anything to do with a certain academic meltdown I heard about?”
Of course he knew.
Coaches knew everything, especially when it involved their new star center acting like a hormonal i***t in front of half the freshman population.
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it before Saturday,” he said firmly. “You want to keep that scholarship? You want scouts to take you seriously? Then you need to keep your goddamn head in the game.”
“I know,” I replied.
He nodded slowly. “Then whatever this girl situation is, get it handled. You can chase skirts after the game, not during drills.”
I winced. “It’s not like that.”
Coach raised a brow. “No? Then what is it like?”
How the hell was I supposed to explain Coleen Maine?
That I’d spent years making her life miserable because I didn’t know how to admit I saw her? That I’d pulled the cruelest prank of my life just to feel like I mattered in front of my family? That now, every time I looked at her, my chest ached with this unfamiliar cocktail of guilt and want?
“It’s just… complicated,” I repeated lamely.
Coach sighed, slapped my shoulder pad with a heavy thud, and muttered, “Get your head straight, son. Talent isn’t enough. Hardwork and discipline wins games.”
With that, he walked off, leaving me to stew in my own personal pit of regret.
After practice, I headed toward the locker rooms, dragging my feet. I was still sweaty, my shirt sticking to my back, my skates heavy against the pavement. I wanted to hit something, but instead I punched my locker, not hard enough to break anything, just to feel something.
“Easy there, tough guy. The locker didn’t steal your girl.”
I looked up and groaned. “Jesus, Alicia. Don’t you knock?”
She grinned, arms folded, leaning against the doorway like she owned the place. She was wearing a crop hoodie, high-waisted jeans, and that smug little smirk that told me she was enjoying this far too much.
“I’d knock, but you’d just cry about it later,” she said sweetly.
I rolled my eyes and yanked off my shirt. “What do you want?”
“To bask in the glow of your public humiliation,” she replied cheerfully. “It’s not every day Mr. Hayden Michaels gets yelled at in front of the entire freshman literature class.”
“I wasn’t yelled at,” I muttered, grabbing a towel.
She tilted her head. “Oh, my mistake. You were passionately scolded by a very dramatic girl who, by the way, you’ve been obsessed with for years.”
I glared at her. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything, just making an observation. You stormed into that class, made it weird, and got publicly rejected. Honestly, I’m impressed. Your whole ‘untouchable athlete’ image got shattered in about sixty seconds. That’s f*****g iconic.”
“Thanks for the moral support,” I mumbled.
“Anytime, loser.”
I threw the towel at her. She dodged it with a laugh and walked over, plopping down on the bench beside me.
For a moment, the room was quiet. Just the hum of the air vents and the echo of far-off voices.
Then she nudged my knee with hers. “So… what’s the deal, really? Why do you care what she thinks?”
I leaned forward, elbows on my thighs, staring at the ground.
“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I just… do.”
Alicia didn’t say anything, which was rare. When I looked over, she was actually watching me with a serious expression on her face.
“I’ve known you since we were, what, ten?” she said. “You’ve never let anyone get to you like this. Not coaches, not girls, not even your own messed-up family.”
I swallowed. “She’s different.”
Alicia’s voice softened. “You like her?”
“I think I always have,” I admitted, surprising myself. “Even back in high school. I just didn’t know what to do with it. So I acted like a complete asshole instead.”
She blinked. “Wow. You’re admitting your mistakes. Such growth.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not! I’m just… wow you’re finally admitting it. And let me guess, now you’ve got no idea how to fix what you broke.”
“Pretty much,” I replied.
She leaned back against the lockers, staring up at the ceiling. “You know, this is actually kind of romantic. If you weren’t such a jerk before, I’d be rooting for you.”
I snorted. “Thanks, really.”
She smiled. “So what are you gonna do? Keep following her around until she calls campus security?”
“She won’t,” I said.
Alicia raised a brow. “Confident, I like it.”
I sighed and rubbed my face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Alicia. I apologized and I meant it. I’m trying to change, but it’s like… every time I get near her, I make things worse.”
“Maybe stop trying to fix everything at once. Just… be there. Be consistent.”
“You think she’d let me?”
Alicia shrugged. “She might. She’s stubborn as hell, but she’s not heartless. If she didn’t care at all, she wouldn’t have reacted like that in class.”
I looked over at her. “How do you know so much?”
She grinned. “I read a lot, dumbass and I’ve been your emotional support system for years. I’ve picked up a few things.”
I laughed, really laughed for the first time all day. Alicia always had that effect. She saw through the crap and made sure I didn’t drown in it.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
She bumped her shoulder into mine. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve still got a long way to go and if you screw it up again, I’m siding with Coleen.”
“Traitor.”
“Nah… I’m just being real.”
I shook my head, smiling despite everything. “You ever think life was supposed to be simpler than this?” I asked.
“Of course. Then we grew up.”
I nodded, pulling on a clean hoodie. “Yeah, we did.”
Later that night, I sat on my bed, staring at my phone. My thumbs hovered over Coleen’s name, but I didn’t text her.
I didn’t know what to say. Not yet.
But Alicia was right.
This wasn’t about fixing it all at once.
It was about showing up.
And for once in my life, I was ready to do that.
- Writer
