George's POV
I barely made it two strides back onto the ice before I heard my name being called out. I almost let out a groan as I recognised that voice. I glanced toward the boards to answer hi,, my coach wasn’t even pretending to hide it. His arms were crossed, his stance rigid, and the frown on his face said everything before he even opened his mouth.
“Off,” he called out, sharp enough to cut straight through the sound of skates carving ice. “Sit this one out George.”
For a second, I thought I’d misheard him, because that didn’t make sense. Not right now. Not in the middle of drills I was supposed to be leading. My grip tightened slightly around my stick as I slowed, my eyes flicking toward him again like maybe there’d be some follow-up, some clarification that made it less blunt. T
