by Bee Daniels
After they finished the excruciating sets, everyone dragged their feet into the locker room. Noah stretched his muscles, glancing at the time. He had about fifteen minutes left to get ready and make it across campus to meet Professor Bryant. Noah walked over to his locker and grabbed the things he would need for a quick shower. As he did, he heard Anderson behind him, speaking to Tyler.
"I know you hate the guy, but you should have never tried to get the biscuit. You were on his team this time," Tyler said to Anderson, trying to reason with him.
"Fuck that," Anderson said as he slammed his locker shut. "If he wasn't hogging the puck, I wouldn't have to take it."
Noah snorted. Anderson was delusional at best. He wasn't hogging the puck from anyone. Anderson had just yet to realize that hockey was a team sport, and still hadn't gotten over his vendetta against him since he realized they were on the same team.
"You got something to say, Walker," Anderson barked out.
Noah glanced over his shoulder, wondering if it was worth it. He didn't have any more time to waste on the likes of Anderson, but at the same time, his words bothered him.
"There is no hogging the puck in the game. You just don't know what it means to be a team player. This isn't football. There is no star quarterback here," Noah said as he slammed his locker shut. "We work together to win. Not to childishly be the one to slam the puck."
Anderson growled, and Tyler grabbed his arm. "Chill out, man. I'm not doing drills again. I've got to meet my girl after this."
Anderson ripped away from Tyler's hold. "You shouldn't even be here," he grumbled.
"And why is that?" Noah asked. "I have every right to be on this team.”
"You're taking up space, Walker," Anderson bit back. "You don't need to be here. You already have your daddy and mommy backing you. Hell, you don't need to be drafted. I wouldn't be surprised if already have a place on a team. You're just here for show."
"I don't have a place on any team, and I don't have anyone backing me," Noah gritted through his teeth, annoyed by Anderson's words. It always annoyed him when people associated his spot on a team not as an attribute from his own talents, but because of his parents. He worked his ass off to get here, and he didn't need people like Anderson bringing him down.
"Yeah, whatever," Anderson said, dismissively shaking his head. "We all know the truth. Your daddy brought your way on this team, just like he brought your way into AHL. You're not even that good of a player. You're just average. There's many more of us that could be out there on the ice, but because of your daddy’s name and his money, you're starting."
Noah jumped, closing the distance between him and Anderson, ready to beat him senseless. "Or maybe you're just mad that you have no talent. Accept it, Anderson. You’re a duster and always will be one. Even if I wasn't on this team, you would still be on the bench."
Anderson's eyes widened with anger as he got ready to hit Noah, and though Noah knew he shouldn't argue with him, and that it was best to ignore him, he couldn't deny that Anderson had gotten under his skin. He was pissed, and right now, he was ready to pound Anderson's face in.
"Stop it! Now!"
Adam banged his fist against the locker, causing everyone's attention to turn to him. Everyone was gathered around to see the fight between them.
"Head to the showers now," Adam said, "before I'll have us do another ten sets of shoot the ducks."
Everyone reluctantly headed off to the showers with halfhearted glances back just in case another fight sprung out again. Anderson walked away, but not without shoving Noah first. Noah gritted his teeth more than ready to show Anderson that not only was he talented on the ice, but when it came down to his fists too.
"Leave it alone," Adam said, reading Noah's thoughts.
Noah clenched his fists before dropping down on the bench in front of his locker. Though it was over now, he could still hear Anderson's words echoing in his head. He gritted his teeth with anger, wishing he could release his anger. He couldn't think like this.
"Just ignore him," Adam said. "Everyone knows Anderson is a dick and has serious anger issues. Besides, he's just jealous of you."
Noah knew that too. He should know that. But it was hard to just take Anderson's words with a grain of salt when it wasn't the first time hearing it. He had heard it before throughout his life, not just from jealous people like Anderson, but from others as well. Sometimes, those words didn't come from jealousy.
"You're more than your parents, Walker."
Noah wanted to believe that too. He wanted the world to know that, but it was hard when he had the shadow of his father on his back. The reason that Anderson's words bothered him was that sometimes they came from truth. Noah couldn't help but remember the times his father had used his name as a way to get Noah on teams. Hell, he had barely graduated from high school before his father started to push him to put his name in the draft, and that’s when the whole debacle started.
Reports had come out that his father used money to buy Noah’s way onto his AHL team, and that he was planning to do the same for Noah in the big leagues. It didn’t take long for everyone to start questioning Noah’s skills, and for those to wonder if he even deserved a place in the league. At the time, Noah had no idea that his father had done those things, and it had been the ultimate betrayal. He thought his skill set alone had gotten him on the Roaring Lions’ team, one of the best teams in the Atlantic Division, but he was wrong. His father had brought his way in, and everything Noah had known before was a lie. Till this day, it was still a sore spot for him, creating a division in his relationship with his father, which was exactly the reason why he had decided to go his own way, and instead of directly heading to the league like his father had planned for him, he had instead chosen to play college hockey first, and prove to the world and his father that him being on any team in the NHL wasn’t because of money or nepotism.
Anderson was right. There was a place for him in the league. But Noah didn't want it that way. He didn't want it riding off his father's coattails. He wanted to get it from his own skill. He wanted people to recognize him, not his name.
Adam patted his shoulder before he stalked off to the showers, but Noah did not follow. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he couldn't think about anything else; not even his tutoring session.
CHAPTER
8
NOAH
N
OAH WAS LATE. Despite all of Professor Bryant’s warnings, he walked into the classroom they studied in at 7:30. He hadn’t done it on purpose. Though he wasn’t overly fond of Professor Bryant and didn’t particularly care for this class, that didn’t mean he would do something as disrespectful as purposely be late, but after the practice he had, time was lost on him.
He couldn't say that he necessarily regretted coming late at first. Mistakes happened, and sometimes, people were late. She should be able to understand that. But when Noah stepped inside of the room and saw Professor Bryant's furious expression as she bumped into his chest headfirst before backing up, regret instantly washed over him. She was leaving.
Noah tried to think of what to say as an apology for his actions, but the moment he opened his mouth, she raised her hand, silencing any excuses he planned on telling her. Clearly, she did not want to hear them.
“Save it, Noah,” she said as she held her purse with an iron grip. Out of all the ways Professor Bryant had looked at him before, this was the first that bruised his pride. Usually, she looked at him as if he were an annoying fly buzzing about, but now she looked at him as if he were a roach she wanted to step on. Noah gritted his teeth. All of this anger simply because he was late. It was ridiculous.
“Stop wasting my time,” she said firmly. “I have better things to do than babysit someone who doesn’t care about this class. There are other students who actually need help and want to learn.”
“I want to learn—”
“No, you don’t. You want to pass. That’s
it. You don’t want to learn anything from me because if you did, you wouldn’t have wasted thirty minutes of my life.” She shook her head angrily. “I’m done with this.”
When she tried to walk around him to leave, Noah grabbed her arm, but she quickly shook off his hold.
"Come on, Melanie," Noah said, trying to get her to understand. Though he was annoyed she was making a big deal out of nothing, he also knew he needed her. "I'm going through a lot of stuff with hockey right now, and it's not easy for me. I have to make sure I'm ready for the season. I have to be great on the ice. I have to be the fucking best right now."
Noah knew he shouldn't curse, and more than that, he knew he shouldn't speak to Professor Bryant so casually. She was his professor. But right now, Noah could think of none of those things. He was frustrated, and surprisingly, he wanted her to understand. Not solely for an excuse alone, but for her to understand the weight of what he was going through. "If I'm not the best on the ice, then everything is over. If I don't prove myself, then everything I worked hard for is over. I have to prove myself."
“That’s why you should take your work seriously,” Professor Bryant said, and Noah shook his head, wondering if she had even heard a word he said. “You shouldn’t just think of school as something secondary to hockey. If you take this seriously, and hockey doesn’t work out for you, then you’ll at least have something to rely on.”
Noah froze.
There was nothing more he hated in the world than someone telling him, or even suggesting that he wouldn’t go pro. He hated it when his father would tell him that, taunting Noah and pressuring him to rely on his name and money as if his own skill won’t get him drafted, and he hated it now, hearing it from her. She didn’t get it. She didn’t get it at all. She had her head shoved so far up psychology that she couldn’t see anything else outside of it.
Noah was furious, matching the anger she once hurled at him.
“I will go pro,” Noah told her, and her eyes widened as Noah took a step towards her. She took a step back, closer to the wall, trying to place distance between them. “Hockey is my life. It’s not just some hobby or some sport. It’s my fucking life and dreams. I will go pro, and if that means I have to miss some study sessions about some course that I don’t give a fuck about, then so be it. Psychology isn’t going to help me on the ice, but me practicing until I’m bloody will. None of this shit fucking matters to me, but being on the ice does. It’s the only reason I’m here.”
Professor Bryant took a step closer to him, closing the distance between them till they were face to face, her brown eyes glaring into his own. They were so close that her nose nearly bumped his.
“The private tutoring is over,” she said, glaring at him before she pulled back, though the glare on her face remained. “I wish you the best of luck with hockey, but I’m sorry. I can’t help you from here. I don’t have time to waste with people who don’t care about the time I’m expending to them.”
And with those words, she left out of the room, leaving him with the sound of her clicking heels. Noah angrily knocked a table to the floor. Fuck her and fuck psychology. All he cared about was hockey, and he wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of that.
CHAPTER
9
MELANIE
“W
HAT!”
All eyes in the busy restaurant focused on Melanie and her best friend, Abigail Downs, who stared at her wide-eyed after what Melanie had just informed her. Though Melanie was embarrassed by all the attention focused on them, she had no one else to blame but herself. After all, she was responsible for her friend's outburst. Abigail had screamed, ecstatic when Melanie had told her about the season pass tickets she had gotten her for the hockey season. So, it only made sense that Abigail would scream in horror this time, learning that those very same tickets were gone now.
“You’re giving the tickets back?” Abigail asked, her voice back at its normal tone. Melanie was grateful when the curious eyes on them turned their attention to something else. She sighed, wiping the oyster sauce from her lips with a napkin. They sat inside the bistro restaurant a few blocks away from the university. Unfortunately, their table was in the middle of the room and not in a booth like Melanie had requested. With it being lunch hours, the restaurant was very busy, meaning that many people had witnessed Abigail's embarrassing outburst. Melanie had never been fond of drawing the unnecessary attention of others.
"Yes, I am," Melanie confirmed firmly, not only for Abigail's sake but for her own. A crest-fallen look appeared on Abigail's face, and Melanie tried to ignore the pang in her chest from guilt.
When Melanie first told Abigail about the deal she made with Coach Benson for the hockey tickets, Abigail had been ecstatic, coming from a family that loved hockey. She watched hockey all the time and was a fan of Weston's college hockey team, which was why she had been super excited when Melanie had started teaching at Weston. But with the news Melanie had just told her friend, all the excitement Abigail had before was gone.
“Why?” Abigail whined, her unruly brown curls bouncing up and down as she slouched in her seat like a child being told they wouldn’t be able to have dessert. Melanie loved her friend, but sometimes she thought her maturity went stagnant when they met in college, and though her friend was now approaching the big three-o soon, she had still yet to grow up.
“I’m not tutoring Noah anymore.”
Just repeating his name made Melanie annoyed as she placed her napkin on the table with unnecessary force. After what happened yesterday, she was positive that she would never tutor Noah again. She waited for thirty minutes, time that she would never get back for some boy who cared nothing about the time he had wasted. It was clear on his face the moment she saw him. He hadn't been delayed for a reasonable excuse, but because he chose to see her work as less important. This was why she didn't want to tutor Noah. She hated slackers. She hated people who wasted her time. She hated people who didn't work hard for the things they wanted in life. And though as a professor, she knew she shouldn't imply in any way that she harbored ill thoughts towards her students, sometimes, it was hard not to. Besides, she didn't hate Noah. She didn't hate him at all. She just didn't particularly like him either.
This wasn’t Melanie’s first rodeo. For Christ’s sake, she had taught high school students before. She knew what it was like to come across slackers, and had dealt with plenty of them before, but there was something about Noah that bothered her. Instead of just failing her class like any other slacker, he had to bother her while doing it. If it was any other student, she wouldn't bother teaching them anything outside of her work hours. But here she was giving her precious time to someone who didn't care for it.
Noah cared about nothing else but the ice, and Melanie wouldn't force him to see that there was more to the world than some silly game. It was beyond her now. She would give Coach Benson back the tickets the moment she saw him and tell him to hire another tutor.
“Mel, you can’t do that,” Abigail said. “Just keep tutoring him so we can keep the tickets. If he skips his tutoring, that’s on him.”
“It’s disrespectful, Abi,” Melanie argued. “I told him on multiple occasions not to be late and waste my time. And it’s clear to me that he doesn’t want to learn, so why should I waste my time on someone like that?”
“Is this kid really that bad?” Abigail asked as she grabbed a roll of bread and butter. “I mean I’ve heard you complain about your students before, but it seems like you have a personal vendetta against him.”
Melanie snorted, not bothering to be offended by that comment. Abigail loved to do reverse psychology to get her to do the things she wanted, but this time it wouldn’t work.
“I have no personal vendetta against Noah at all. He's failing my class. He asked for my tutoring. I told him not to be late. He was late. I’m stopping the tutoring. End of story.”
“Now, if it was just that, I would believe you. You’ve alw
ays been that way.”
Melanie arched a brow and held her tongue as she waited for their waiter, who stopped by their table to pour more water in their glasses, to walk away before she spoke again. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Even back in college when we would have group projects, the moment you felt like someone was slacking," —Melanie rolled her eyes at the sarcastic air quotations Abigail used— "You wouldn't put their name on our work. Hell, you did that with me one time."
That had been a nightmare. Melanie had first met Abigail when they roomed together with three other girls during their first year of college. And though the first few months they had not been particularly close, with only the occasional polite talk in passing, when they got stuck outside together during a fire alarm in the middle of the night, they had become inseparable. The next year when they decided to room together again, they also decided to take an elective together. It had been one of the worst mistakes of her life, and they had nearly lost their friendship.
When Melanie said she hated slackers, she meant it, hence why she always hated group projects. There was always someone trying to skate by without contributing at all and imagine her surprise when that someone was her best friend.
That project had nearly destroyed their friendship because there was no way Melanie was going to let people skate by without doing anything, not even her best friend, especially since Abigail's excuse at the time was boyfriend problems. After Melanie walked away with an A and Abigail with a D, they didn't speak to each other for a whole month until they got stuck outside again after another fire alarm happened in the middle of the night. From then on, they agreed to never take another class together again, and if both of them got accepted at the same job, one of them would have to quit. Their friendship remained intact ever since.
“I hate slackers,” Melanie said, shrugging. This wasn’t unknown to the people around her. As she took another sip of her soup, she noticed Abigail grinning, her brown eyes glinting knowingly.