Page 16 of Offside

It should not have bugged me that much that Metal didn't respond to me. I shouldn’t have stared at the read icon like a scorned woman, and I should not have cared that he switched to offline right after, but I did.

I cared a great friggin deal because I was offering something soft in me, and he was basically rejecting it.

I understood it last night–it was a lot. He was nervous and scared and confused, but we’d been talking so much now.

He seemed so comfortable with me and was opening up, too.

And honestly, I was pretty sure I was just so mad because I liked that. I got a few minutes of feeling seen by another person, too.

My mood was pretty much shot for the rest of the night. We had to play Toronto, and they were a decent team while we were still figuring out our new rhythm.

We acquired a lot of new players over the summer and had been playing them in weird matchups until they found a set that clicked. I clicked with Keaton, alright, but he was a right-wing, and I needed a defense buddy.

So, I was just a little rough around the edges tonight–no one’s fault.

But maybe Metal’s.

“Marks–in with Karter,” Coach Banning muttered, tapping my shoulder to send me in with Sam.

The only real combination he hadn’t tried yet for me.

The thing was, I wasn’t a bad player, but every team had this problem with me. A good defense duo needed to be in sync, and to do that, you had to have good chemistry with your partner.

You needed to know them.

A real task for me.

Sam and I jumped the boards, going in for Shane and Jayden seamlessly.

I could do that part of my job flawlessly, and if I could manage it, I would have been a goalie–that would have played to my strengths well.

Too late now.

My only hope was that Sam was as socially inept as I was–surely that had to cancel out somewhere, right?

The puck dropped, and Wes took it, carrying the play to Toronto’s zone flawlessly. Sam and I rushed behind, hell-bent on keeping the play out of the neutral zone–that was our only job.

We just needed to be a well-oiled machine, moving with one another.

Except that was too much to ask of us.

Kinny had control and lost it, sending it flying perfectly between Sam and me, forcing us to run into one another trying to stop it.

Not only did we suck so bad together that we couldn’t stop the play, but now I had another busted lip and was flat on my ass mid-play.

“I’m sorry–”

“Save it,” I muttered, forcing myself up and pulling him up, just to get a move on.

Honestly, I thought for sure the coach was going to pull us in, but he let us go back towards the play.

I just wish I could say it got better from there.

Almost two minutes of endlessly being in the wrong place at the wrong time with Sam. It wasn’t all his fault, and it was rude of me to get so mad at him like it was, but it was frustrating!

How much longer was this team going to let me suck with every partner they gave me?

I had to figure out a way to make this work.