𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

"i still hate you for what you did"

Team USA hockey spent the next week relearning the basics to improve themselves individually and as a group. They watched Iceland's games to work around their plays while Luis learned to stop. Gordon Bombay started attending games and practices again, looking more and more like their coach every day. After working out in the gym and on the ice, the group took their showers and all began leaving for the movies.

"Banks, let's go!" Dean called to the boy.

"I'll be right there," Adam responded, drying his hair with a towel.

Glancing around to make sure he was completely alone, Adam pulled out gauze wrap. He started lacing it around his wrist as he slightly winced in pain.

"Now just think how'd you play with two good wrists," Bombay said as he secretly watched Adam apply the bandage.

"Coach, it's just a little sore. I'm okay," He denied.

"I should have spotted this sooner. I'm sorry, man. I wasn't doing my job," Bombay walked over.

"Coach, I'm fine," Adam continued. "I can play, I swear."

"Okay," Gordon shrugged while picking up a hockey stick. "Here, let's find out."

Adam reached for the stick with his good hand, hoping to fool his coach into believing he was truly alright.

"The other hand."

Adam grabbed it by the end and held it straight out in front of him, his eyes beginning to water. They both knew perfectly well he couldn't do it. Adam dropped the stick to the floor as he blinked back tears.

"I have to bench you," Gordon sighed.

"No, you can't do that."

"Adam, you could injure yourself permanently," Bombay reasoned.

"You can't bench me. I gotta play. All the scouts are here watching me, this is my shot," Adam pleaded.

"You're young -- you're gonna have plenty of shots. Believe me."

"But my dad's counting on me."

"I'm sorry," Bombay sighed again as he watched Adam sit back down and lower his gaze. "Hey, my dad worked a lot when I was a kid. So when he made it to a game, I wanted so bad to score a hundred goals for him. I spent half the game a nervous wreck -- my stomach in knots."

"That's how I feel," Adam quietly admitted.

"Before he died, my dad told me that his happiest times were watching me skate on this pond we had behind our house. He didn't need me to score a hundred goals for him. He was proud of me because I was his son and I did my best. I'm sure that's how your dad feels."

But Gordon Bombay didn't know Phil banks like Adam did. He believed that his dad truly cared about hockey and their reputation more than his son. To Adam, everything seemed to be falling apart. Rowan refused to speak more than 4 words to him if necessary, and now he couldn't do the only thing that could take his mind off the constant reminder of the void she once filled.

"I know it is," Bombay said as tears rolled down Adam's face.

"Thanks, Coach," He nodded, accepting that this would be a time for recovery.

"Alright, let's go get that wrist x-rayed."