Pucking Pretending (UNI Lions #9)[COMPLETED]

Cayden

Practice on Monday is brutal. Even though the assistant coach is in charge, we can all tell Coach is in a bad mood.

I get the feeling he's targeting me, but luckily he's not on the ice much. He's showing some reporters around and answering their questions.

His interaction with us consists of shouting out orders at us here and there. But even with the assistant coach handling most of the drills, it's way more intense than usual.

"Maybe he's showing off for the reporters?" Enzo says when we, exhausted, hit the locker room.

"He's never cared about that before," Pan says.

"Or you're all just out of shape," Hudson says.

We glare at him.

"Hey, since you're a free man now, want to hit up a new club?" Neville asks, and I look around before I realise he's talking to me.

A free man? That's not exactly how I'd describe it.

I shake my head. "Not in the mood."

"Come on. It'll be fun. We can wingman for each other." He raises his eyebrows at me.

"It's Monday, and we have practice tomorrow." I narrow my eyes at him. Ever since Pan married the woman he was in love with, he's been acting more and more unhinged.

"So?" He pulls on a shirt and grins.

"So that's a no."

I grab my stuff before I get any more invitations and leave the Den. Maybe I should go out. Or do something. But honestly, I'm not in the mood.

I'd much rather sit at home and desperately try not to imagine Saf with the lacrosse asshole.

Which is what I do.

All night.

It's impossible to sleep because my bed still smells like her, and I can't stand it. As soon as I get between the sheets, I long for her.

Fuck.

I never thought I'd actually long for someone.

In the end, I lie on the couch and doze off a few minutes here and there. But she's in my dreams as well, and I wake up missing her even more.

With barely any sleep, I make it back to the Den just in time for practice. I missed a couple of classes, but it's fine. It's not like I need them.

"You look like hell," Pan says when he sees me.

"Great." I start changing and do my best to ignore him.

He slides closer to me. "Is it about Saf?"

Her name cuts through me. "I don't want to talk about it."

I'm in a crappy mood. And I don't see it getting any better anytime soon.

When I grab my stick, I have an irrational urge to slam something with it. Just beat the shit out of something. Because being angry has to be better than whatever the hell this is.

Coach has another brutal set up for us, and I dive into it with full force. Maybe if I'm exhausted, I'll sleep better and not dream about her.

"Marsh, move your ass. This isn't kindergarten."

I increase my speed. He's riding everyone, but I do feel like he's taking something out on me.

What did Saf tell him? We were supposed to tell people we're still friends.

"Fucking hell, Marsh. Did you forget how to skate?" Coach is yelling loud enough for everyone to stare at him. I was doing well, and he knows it.

And yet, he keeps pushing me. It has to be personal.

But I can take it. So, I grind my teeth and put in more effort.

Until I fumble the puck. And Coach sees.

"Marsh. Suicides."

I, along with most of the team, stare at him. "What?"

"You heard me. If you're not going to take practice seriously, then you get to do suicides."

He looks almost gleeful with his arms crossed.

This is not the time for suicides. Not this late in the season. And I know he's punishing me.

Saf must have told him something... And he's taking it out on me. It's not fair.

But all I can do is line up and wait for his signal to start.

The rest of the team keep going with their things, only avoiding the sliver of ice where I sprint back and forth.

"Faster," Coach says as I return to the start for the first time.

I'm panting, and my legs are trembling. But I do it. I increase the pace and finish on the verge of throwing up.

"Again," Coach says.

I shake my head, too out of breath to talk.

"What? Are you tired?" He's taunting me. "Do you need to rest? Does it hurt?"

Still trying to catch my breath, I stare at him.

"Well, I guess you should have thought about that sooner." His eyes are staring daggers at me as he lowers his voice to a menacing threat. "I told you, if you hurt her, I hurt you."

"I didn't hurt her." I straighten my back and push down the nausea.

"I should have known you'd break her heart."

I've never seen Coach this furious.

I'm tired. I'm exhausted. Everything hurts, but it's nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

"I didn't fucking hurt her." I'm shouting to keep the tears from welling up. "I love her. She's the one in love with someone else. She's the one who fucking doesn't want me. She's the one who..." I take a breath.

She's the one who hurt me. But I can't say that. Because I'm Cayden fucking Marsh. I'm this team's biggest manwhore. A fuckboy with no emotions and a new woman after every game.

Coach is staring at me. "You're the one who broke up with her."

"I had to end it. Because I saw her. With him. With the guy she was always in love with." I barely contain a sob at the end of the sentence.

Fuck!

This is not how I behave.

I look around. All activity has stopped, and they're staring at me.

Shit. What the fuck am I doing?

I skate up to the line and take a breath.

If Coach wants more suicides, that's what I'll do.

"Hit the showers," Coach says and turns away. He starts gathering the equipment, and I feel hollow. Like I lost something again.

The rest of the players are somber and avoid even looking at me. I don't blame them. I was screaming like a petulant toddler.

What the fuck did I even say?

Did I tell them all that I love someone who doesn't love me back?

Do they all know what a pathetic loser I am?