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I called up Coach about a reed to trainso far as to let uys on the teaood—yeah, it’s not the sauys only a few years ago, so chances are, at least one of the professionally I know this is what I need to get back tothe way, and it fucking sucks I’ve always been cocky, according to everyone I know, but according to ht, and I fucking hate that he’s right I needed a major reality check, and I hate that it ca one at that

Coach leans back in his chair, sizingon in his head—his stoic expression sure doesn’t give anything away Finally, he sighs, his leather chair creaking when he adjusts his weight

“You’re not ready to get back on the ice,” he says “Hit the gys

“That’s all you have to say?”

He pauses what he’s doing and looks up at me with an expression like I’m the dumbest person he’s ever encountered “I saw that look on your face when you bent down I’ yoga and loosen up that leg”

“Yoga? Seriously?”

“I’ onto his shoulder “I won’t put you on the ice until you’re ready The last thing you need is another injury”

His words hit home, and my head falls in dejection “Yeah, I understand, Coach”

He nods and slaps my arm as I pass “See you tomorrow, Bennett”

“Mhers to roan

This is going to be harder than I thought

“You’re not wearing that to the party, are you?” Elle crosses her thin arlares at me Is it sad that in the short tilare?

I look down atwith this?”

She rolls her eyes “Everything” She taps a finger to her lips “We’re about the sa on”

She rifles through her drawers, er mess of her already e I like order