Page 2 of The Chemistry Coach
Daisy needed to do something.This job was sucking her soul out, slowly but surely, like a rosy-cheeked toddler drinking soda through a coffee stirrer.
The first few years had been good.She got to create custom plans for her clients, and she planned fun, inclusive activities that sparked meaningful conversations.Team-building could be a blast if you had the right tools.
On good days, she got to work with groups of young professionals who wanted to grow, or school-aged kids excited for a field trip.Since Rob became the boss, those scenarios became few and far between.Mostly she oversaw uninterested executives playing half-hearted games of ‘Desert Island’ and doing ill-advised trust falls.
Large corporations often paid for team-building as a checkbox in their budget.The results didn’t matter.And since the results didn’t matter, her effort didn’t either.Rob had cut funding, allowing only for the most basic activities.Ropes courses and blown glass classes became sober party games and egg drops.
Rob rattled off more new assignments and then dismissed everyone.Daisy waited for the crowd to filter out before standing to leave, but Rob signaled she should stay and closed the conference room door once they were alone.
Daisy tried to put a light in her eyes when she sank into her chair.
“What’s up?”she asked.
He pulled a file folder from his briefcase and handed it to her.“There’s some paperwork you need to fill out before you can get started with your new clients.”
Many of the companies she worked with had confidentiality agreements, so Daisy flipped open the folder and signed the highlighted areas without bothering to read the documents.She shoved the folder back at Rob, who stuffed it in his briefcase.
“Anything else I should know about this one?”
Rob handed her another document from his bag.This one had a list of basic activities on it.Collaboration (popsicle stick bridge, egg drop), party game (two truths and a lie, never have I ever), friendly competition (marshmallow tower, obstacle course), escape room.She flipped the paper over to find a list of cliché icebreaker questions.
“Stick to what’s on the sheet.These activities work.You’ll be doing four sessions with this group.”
Daisy barely contained her eye roll.“Understood.”
When Rob freed her from his godforsaken presence, she beelined to the meeting room she would use for her mysterious new client.She pulled out the supplies for popsicle stick bridges, filled the refreshment fridge, and left her list of questions out on the table, eager to set up so she could get home and watch the Freeze game.
Connor Greene was on Daisy’s last damn nerve.This man.She’d been having shameful fantasies about him for years, but that night’s involved strangulation.It wasn’t uncommon for her to be annoyed with him.They’d never met, but he’d impacted her life more than he could ever know.This time, though, her irritation stemmed from his body placement, rather than her inconvenient lust for him.
“What the actual fuck!?”she yelled at the TV as she watched the puck bounce off Connor’s leg and into his own goal.
Roxie’s hand flew to her head.“No, are you fucking kidding me?You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The Freeze had a three-goal lead going into the third period.Until Connor fucking Greene broke their defensive posture and a puck bounced into his own net off his body.And then two minutes later, it happened again.Two own-goals in less than three minutes.The dipshit hung his poor goalie out to dry.No goaltender should have to defend against his own man.
With eight minutes left in the third, Connor had single-handedly made it a one-goal game for their opponent.That left plenty of time for the opposition to tie it up.Then he got called for interference, giving the other team a power play.
“What the fuck, Beanie?You’re better than that!”Roxie shouted at the screen.
Instead of relaxing with some ice cream watching the end of what should’ve been a sure win for her team, Daisy teetered on the edge of her seat, man-spread, elbows on her knees, her head in her hands as she waited for the puck to drop after a TV timeout.
Roxie mirrored her, her grip so tight on the remote her knuckles turned white.Adrenaline pulsed through Daisy’s veins as she watched the special teams duke it out.Every clear brought a sigh of relief, every zone entry a spiral into certain despair.The air became thick with tension, Daisy and Roxie’s sighs and gasps coming in simultaneous waves.
Daisy was spitting mad at Connor’s mistakes, but the uncertainty and hope and dread and whole-hearted, blind faith in these men to keep a tiny black puck out of the net—this is what Daisy lived for.This is what she tried to describe to anyone who asked her about her passion for hockey.
In hockey, the momentum could change in a heartbeat.A winner not decided until the final buzzer.Hockey fans are a special kind of delusional—often believing their team could score three goals in one minute to take a game to overtime.But it could happen.Ithadhappened before.It only took one lucky bounce, or the goalie getting a little too comfortable, or the refs being on your side for once in their lives.
Seattle’s veteran defenseman, Harland Reese, stole the puck with a well-placed poke check.He maneuvered around the other team’s attackers and cleared the zone, alone on a breakaway down the ice.Daisy and Roxie were on their feet.Reese looked for a pass.None of his teammates were around.
Daisy and Roxie screamed at the screen.“Shoot the fucking puck!”
Reese did, and the little black disk flew past the goalie’s glove and ricocheted around the back of the net.The goal horn sounded; the lamp lit up.The crowd on the TV roared.Daisy and Roxie were hugging and jumping in Roxie’s tiny living room.A Nirvana song blasted in the background as the TV broadcast showed the replay from half a dozen different angles.On a shorthanded goal, one of the star players made it a two-goal lead with five minutes left.
That was the beauty of hockey.This was a regular season game for a team that, honestly, wasn’t very good.But the excitement of every single goal was worth every upset.Fans would cuss out the refs one second and scream in support the next.
After the game, which Seattle won, Roxie and Daisy hunkered down on the floor of Roxie’s tiny closet and recorded their next podcast episode.It was more optimistic this time, but Daisy couldn’t help the despair in her voice when they talked about Connor Greene’s mistakes.If Roxie had any concerns about discussing her ex’s crappy play, she didn’t voice them.
Chapter 2
