There's No Teaching The Hockey Star

Chapter 2 - Jayden

The cheer of the crowd sounded distant. Disconnected. Like I was not quite there at all. I half lay upon the physio bed, my mind spinning into the black hole I was desperately trying to avoid, and that pain radiating from my shoulder was the thing threatening to push me deeper into it...

An injury now was the last thing that I needed. A failed shoulder check was the cause... shooting pain had me tensing... I have had injuries before, of course I had. What hockey player hadn’t? But the shooting pain spreading through my shoulder was agony. The sound of the crowd became like a muffled background to my own world crumbling around me.

I tried to drag myself from the mess of my own thoughts and focus instead upon Kai. Our team doctor and physio. The tense tightness of his jaw as he examined it told me this didn’t look good. I winced in discomfort, biting my lower lip, while shifting my head, trying to get a clear view of what he was doing. He appeared to be testing the joint. Only every move that he made caused it to feel like it was filled with shards of broken glass. I had to bite down on my lower lip even harder to stop myself from hissing the expletives building within my mouth. f**k it hurts... This wasn’t meant to hurt this badly. Was it?

That same sterile smell of the physio room that I had always done all I could to avoid, yet somehow I found myself there regardless, and not for a small injury either. This one felt bad. The moment that shoulder check sent me sprawling across the ice and pain radiated from my shoulder, I knew I was f****d. The panic in my teammates' eyes was enough to tell me that.

“This is going to need at least six weeks' rest, Jayden.” Kai said, his tone a little tentative as he stepped away from the bed. He knew his words were not going to be well received, and damn was he right. The team doctor and physio knew me well enough to know my life was on that ice. Not being able to play was taking my soul away…

“f*****g six weeks, get real. I will tape it, Kai. I can manage.” I told him so nonchalantly, despite the pain pulsing through me like a f*****g bulldozer. It felt like it had decided to settle in for good. Every movement was a painful grind. “We are at a critical time. I can’t miss matches.”

“And that is only going to make it so much worse, likely to the point it will need surgery, which we are trying to avoid, J.” Kai gave me a warning look. “Are you trying to end your career?”

That warning was one no player wanted to hear, and it hit me hard. I stood from the bed, lifting my helmet from the tablet next to the bed and launching it angrily across the room, the heavy thud as it bounced off the wall offering me no solace. Kai glanced at where the helmet now lay, a look of almost unsurprise upon his face before he stepped back again, offering me a free pathway out of the door. He knew I needed space, and he would be a fool if he tried to stop me...

I walked away toward the locker room. Any other injury this early on in a match, and I would always return to the team bench to watch the end of the game. Support my teammates. But no other injury had been this severe. None other had needed such a long length of recovery. My head was stuttering right now, and rink side was the last place I needed to be. Being scrutinized by the press cameras... no. Right now, anger and frustration were pulsating through my body. Simmering from every pore. I needed to get away.

I tossed my skates to the floor and slid out of my uniform, trying to avoid any movement that caused agonizing pain. Before throwing my sweatpants back on and finding my T-shirt. I needed to go home. I needed some time.

Six weeks without the ice felt like a f*****g lifetime. No. I would be back before then. I had to be. Four to six weeks was the average recovery time for an ACJ injury. I was sure that with careful home physio, I could make it less.

Without so much as looking back toward the sound of the crowd cheering on my teammates, the sound which had become almost the backing soundtrack to my own downfall, I walked out of the team entrance. Leaving at this time means I avoid the inevitable scrutiny of the press. The constant pressure from them could become mind-crushing for a guy who hates attention. A guy who just wants to play hockey...

“You headed home, Jayden?” A voice disturbed my wandering thoughts as I stepped outside the doors, and I nodded, realizing quickly it was one of the team drivers, leaning against the wall of the stadium. As I looked toward him, it only took a moment to decipher that he was simply making the most of the peace to have a moment for a cigarette break. I could see the concern in his eyes. “Let me drive you home. Are you okay?” He added gently.

I shot him a look that could have killed the man. There was nothing like asking dumbass questions. I assumed he knew I was injured, so in what world would that ever make me okay? But I also wanted to get home, so I simply nodded. I was not in the mood to discuss the game. My injury, or the asshole that had caused it. I needed some peace. The driver motioned to his car, and I did not need to be told twice.

Climbing into the car, I was relieved to have escaped unnoticed. The press was unaware I was leaving, and I did not want to think about what they may have to say tomorrow. But, right then, my mind was on Bella. She would no doubt be sitting waiting at home for me, watching the match. She must be in a panic, having seen what happened…

Those first few months, she loved the buzz of the stadium on match nights. Sitting in the family box watching me play. Proud to call me hers. But then she said the judgment of the crowd or the media became too much, and she began to avoid the matches, opting to watch them from our home. Though, as my mind went to her, I could not help but wonder if she had been watching, why she hadn’t called...

She had to have seen what happened. Had to be worried about me, right? I began to question. Maybe she had fallen asleep. I reasoned. It would not be the first time. Hockey wasn't exactly her favorite. She just liked the man she got who played the game and all the nice things he was able to buy for her... but thoughts of her drifted from my mind as the dull ache within my shoulder worsened. I was the one always warning the others about injuries, and it was me this time that got f*****g injured. And not just a little either... this could end my season if the recovery did not go to plan. f**k.

The moment of impact, and it felt like the ice had fallen from under me. I knew then it had gone wrong. Knew I should have moved away. But he just would not stay away...

I shifted uncomfortably upon my seat, replaying the fatal moments of the match within my mind while trying positions to make myself more comfortable, watching the familiar sights of downtown Darkmoor flash by. Nothing I did made me feel better, and the more I replayed the game, the worse I felt. I was in excruciating pain, and I was not sure when I would be back out on the ice. Where I needed to be. But, something I did know, I couldn't cope without it.