Page 61 of Walk the Line

“I don’t know what to say to that,” I respond.

He sighs. Are you aware that a lot of your team mates don’t want to try to know you?”

My response is quick. “No, it slipped my attention.”

“The sarcasm is funny,” he says, wagging a finger in my direction. “But none of that here. Listen, you’re one of the best I’ve seen at Hockey. That’s why I made you Captain.” His words send a sliver of ease through me. “That said, you’re also one of the quietest I’ve seen. That’s also why I made you andJulius Captain. Because if I just had you guys on the team you wouldn’t make effort with anybody and you wouldn’t be doing it on purpose, I get that, that’s just how you are. But I just can’t have that on my team. I need my players to trust each other. I need my players to like each other. I need my players to know each other. They don’t trust you. They don’t like you. They don’t know you.” I feel that ease slowly evaporating. “It’s not good and I need you to figure it out. It’s embarrassing to see any of you arguing with each other, least of all one or both of my Captains. When we’re out at a game, the opposing team will look for any weakness they can spot and lack of cohesion is one of the easiest weaknesses to find in a team.” I nod, because I’ve always thought the same and seen the evidence for myself with other teams. “None of you are kids. Which is why I’m not telling you how to sort it out. But I am telling you to sort it out,” he continues. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Good. Bye.” He says, and I take the cue, ruminating over his words as I walk away.

The journey home consists of me going over everything he said some more, but my thinking comes to a halt the moment I finish dressing myself after my shower.

I take a deep breath before answering. “Hello.”

“What’s wrong with you?” is the first thing I hear.

“Nothing.”

“I’m your Mother, I know when something’s wrong.”

“We’ve just started the conversation?” I say.

“And I can still tell.”

I fall back on my bed, hating that this time of the month has come so soon. “I’ve just had a long day.”

“With Hockey?” The derision in her tone is the same as always, but I’m especially not in the mood today.

“Yeah, mostly,” is all I say.

“How is everything else?” and I appreciate her topic change being swift. I don’t care to talk about Hockey with someone who doesn’t care to talk about it with me.

“Fine.”

“Your studies?”

“Fine.”

“Do you have another adjective?”

I pause. “I can’t think of one.”

I can tell she’s shaking her head, which brings a little smile out of me. Though it vanishes when she says, “I have a question for you. Are you making friends? Or are you stuck in your room again?”

It’s hard to have a conversation with someone when everything they bring up is a no go zone.

But I answer anyway with, “I’m making friends.”

“Is that a lie?”

“I’m not lying,” I say plainly.

“Well, I know what you’re like. The whole reason you didn’t make friends last year is because you didn’t leave your room. Who’s to say it wouldn’t happen again this year?”

I let her hear my sigh, but she probably has no awareness of the fury radiating through me.

“I didn’t leave my room because I was depressed,” I explain to her, hoping she finally gets it this time.