At least the atmosphere in the locker room had thawed over the weeks. Frigid silence got old really quickly, but Demetrius was always there trying to lighten the mood, and Daniel got along easily with most people. His teammates had realized that soon after the season started. The one major holdout was Cedric, who constantly gave Daniel the cold shoulder, no matter how many times Daniel tried to engage him in conversation.
The game started off well enough. The first period ended without any points on the board, and by the middle of the second, neither team had scored. Compared to the blowout the last time they’d faced the Maroons, no goals on either side was a definite improvement.
Of course, it wasn’t meant to last.
Daniel was barreling toward the offensive zone on a breakaway when one of the Maroons’ defensemen picked his pocket and sent the puck back to one of their forwards...who promptly sailed right around several hapless Thunder players and scored on Spacek.
Daniel groaned and put his chin to his chest as the horn sounded and the Maroons clustered together to celebrate their goal. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. It was only one goal, but this team didn’t need much to put them in a despondent mood.
If only he’d guarded the puck better, if only he’d moved faster. If only, if only.
Someone bumped his shoulder, hard, and Daniel jerked his head up to spot Cedric giving him a death glare. Shit. Now the guy was going to hate him even more, although every player turned a puck over or had one stolen from time to time, so really, what was the guy’s problem?
It might not have been so bad if the Thunder had managed to score a single goal, but in the end they lost 2–0, and on a shot that trickled through Spacek’s five-hole with awkward, embarrassing slowness.
Everyone was in a bad mood in the dressing room afterward. Daniel was trying to rein in his temper—it was rare he allowed anger to overwhelm him—but when Cedric started cursing up a storm and flinging his equipment left and right, he finally lost his cool.
“Hey!” Daniel snapped. “How about you dial down the tantrum, huh? Not even my six-year-old throws her toys around when she’s upset.”
Cedric was in his face in an instant. “You shut up. The first goal was your fault. You gave them the momentum they needed to beat us.”
Daniel flung up his hands. “Please. I wasn’t the only one on the ice during that goal. Kostelec cruised right past everyone else—including you—and put that puck in the back of the net without any resistance at all. You want to blame everything on me, but that’s not reality. This was a team effort, and we weren’t good enough, or the Maroons were just better today.”
“Today? They are always better. Always. We have not beaten them once this season. What is the purpose of you being here if not to help us win?”
Frustration boiled over in Daniel’s stomach. “What the hell is your problem with me, man? One second you don’t want me here. The next second you’re angry at me for not carrying the team? Make up your goddamn mind.”
“I didn’t want you here!” Cedric took an aggressive step toward him. “I don’t want you here.” He looked ready to drop his gloves, had he still been wearing them.
Daniel shifted his weight and braced himself. He wasn’t typically one to initiate a fight, but he’d sure as hell end one if it came down to it.
Demetrius suddenly pushed between them. Daniel glanced around the room and noticed the rest of the team was silent, in varying stages of undress, as they stared at Cedric and Daniel.
“Why don’t we just calm down?” Demetrius suggested. “We’re all in a bad mood. We’re all pissed off. But we also have a plane to catch in a few hours. We don’t have time for petty arguments.”
Daniel sucked in a deep, slow breath and nodded to show Demetrius he didn’t intend to let the situation escalate any further. “You’re right, D. Thanks.” He looked at Cedric, who was noticeably fuming. “You and me—” He gestured between them. “We need to talk. We’re going to lunch after practice tomorrow. Alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Cedric said with a sneer.
“You are. I don’t want to have to take this situation to management, but I will if we can’t settle this like rational adults. So you talk to me tomorrow, or we’re going to the GM. You make the call.”
Cedric hesitated for a few seconds before nodding grudgingly. “Fine. Whatever.” He stormed off to finish undressing, and Daniel sighed.
Demetrius clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you, Bellzie,” he said quietly. “He’s a punk. All he wants is to get a reaction from you.”
“I know.” Daniel shoved sweaty curls off his forehead and made a frustrated sound. “But it’s been a couple of months, and I’m just over it, D.”
“Talk to him tomorrow. Set his little French ass straight.”
Daniel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him. “I’ll try.” It was all he could do. He truly didn’t want to have to involve management. No one liked a tattletale, but Cedric’s behavior was impacting the entire team, and the coaches weren’t doing a damn thing about it. Something had to give.
“Good.” Demetrius squeezed his shoulder and then dropped his hand. “And look, man, I’ve been meaning to ask you—would you be interested in joining me for some volunteering? I know we already do our stuff for the team, but I’ve also been doing this on the side for a few weeks, and I figure you could probably use some happy hockey feels, too.”
Daniel peeled off his sweaty jersey and dropped it to the floor. He’d put it in the laundry bin later. “What do you mean? Volunteering where?” he asked as he went to work on removing his shoulder pads.
Demetrius sat on the bench and started unlacing his skates. “The Miami Youth Ice Hockey Organization. I was doing some research last month and I heard the Strikers, their junior team, has been doing really good this season. I went to a game and got to talking to Lou, one of their equipment guys. Lou introduced me to the head coach, and, well, they asked if I’d be open to volunteering with the teams whenever I have time. Not in any official capacity, but like, just as a motivator for the kids.”
“Really? That sounds great.” Daniel tossed his pads into his temporary stall.
“It’s been fun.” Demetrius’s voice was muffled by the sweater he was tugging over his head. He used it to wipe the sweat off his face, and then threw it on top of Daniel’s. “The kids are too young to be jaded, you know? The older players are working their asses off, don’t get me wrong, but it’s about having fun, too. I’ve been missing that.”
Daniel paused in the middle of shimmying out of his hockey pants. “Yeah,” he said after a few seconds. “Me, too.”