Page 62 of Shootout
Jonas blew his whistle and called the team to center ice. He did a summary of what we’d worked on in practice, as usual, and doled out praise to the guys and criticism to the girls. I watched with growing anger as the guys smirked, smug in their superiority, while the girls sank back in shame. That fucking bastard. I wanted to have it out with him, but I was at the bottom of the pecking order and didn’t see that changing anytime soon. All that’d do was get me fired and leave my girls without anyone to champion them.
I was flooded with memories of my own career and how I’d been treated as not as good as the guys, even when I was better. My own family had perpetuated the belief that male hockey players were always better than women. I’d done my best to get rid of the chip on my shoulder, but it’d started to grow again.
We’d had a good practice. Marnie’s dad hadn’t been present, and she’d been able to relax, play her game. She scored a goal against the first line in our short scrimmage. I felt good about that, as my girls had bested Jonas’s guys. I hated thinking such thoughts as we should’ve all been one team, but the way Jonas ran things, we were definitely separate.
A couple of the guys hung back to talk to Jonas. They never sought my advice. I skated up to the small group, hoping to show that I was also interested in what they had to say.
“Hey, Coach. Can you help with my face-offs?” asked one of the boys.
“Can’t tonight, Aaron. Have to be somewhere.”
Aaron’s face fell, but Jonas didn’t appear to notice or care.
“I’ll help you, Aaron,” I volunteered.
Aaron hesitated. “That’d be great if you could.”
He glanced at Jonas, who stood behind me, so I couldn’t see his expression.
“Oh, sorry, I just realized I have to go. Maybe another time.”
“Sure, anytime.” I plastered a fake smile on my face to mask my disappointment and frustration.
“I could use the help, and so could Celeste.” Marnie skated forward.
“Wonderful. Let’s get started.” The rest of the team left us alone on the ice.
We spent the next several minutes practicing face-offs.
“Good job. I think you’ve improved already in that short time.”
“I do, too.” Celeste was a large, stocky girl who used her size to her advantage. She was amazingly fast and agile on her skates, considering her bulk. And Marnie, well, she was a step ahead of the rest of the girls and most of the boys.
“You’re the best coach I’ve ever had,” Marnie said out of the blue.
“Me, too,” Celeste added. “Usually, we get the leftovers because we’re afterthoughts, but you’re really good.”
“Thank you.” I felt my face flush from the compliments. I hadn’t heard many since I’d come here, and mostly I’d been trying to keep my head above water. “Never think less of yourself because others do. They’re most likely threatened by the talent of the girls on this team.”
“Like Coach Jonas? He’s an ass.” Marnie snorted. She had her father’s gift of directness.
“Coach Jonas is a very good coach. We’re lucky to have him.” I defended him because that was the professional thing to do, even though I secretly agreed with her assessment. Both girls rolled their eyes.
“Is it true you’re dating Banks Slater?” Celeste asked.
I hesitated. My gut response was to deny there was anything going on between us, but doing so wouldn’t be in line with this story we’d perpetuated. And sometimes the lines between fact and fiction became so blurred I wasn’t sure what we were to each other.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“You’re so lucky. He’s soooo hot,” Marnie squealed, and I laughed.
“I’ll tell him you said so,” I teased.
“No, no, no, you can’t tell him.” Marnie covered her mouth in mortification.
“I’m joking. I wouldn’t.”
“He’s one of the best forwards in the game. Do you think he’d come to a practice and give us some pointers?”
