meant to be • adam banks

chapter twenty one

adam

Like I've said a million times before, there's something so relaxing about skating on an empty rink.

It's like my version of the old saying, "the calm after the storm." Something about it just relaxes me in ways I can't explain, and I don't think any feeling will ever be able to compare to this. It's one of those things you know you'll miss once it's gone, and I know that I'm going to more than I can imagine when I eventually stop playing.

While that isn't something I see happening anytime soon, I can't help but let my mind wander and imagine what would happen if hockey was just taken away from me one day. I don't know what I'd do if my career suddenly ended, and I'd be put in the same situation as my dad. Maybe that's why he's always been so hard on my brother and I, he sees himself in us and what he was before the knee injury that ruined his career.

I don't know why I'm being so philosophical all of a sudden, because this isn't usually like me. Maybe it's the weed, but I can't be too sure though. I'd never smoked before Saint Patrick's Day, and it's become a habit even though I've tried not to make it one. I know it's bad, but it helps me deal with the stresses of life when I need an escape.

Fuckin' Larson. I was too drunk to say no when he offered me some and I've never really had another coping mechanism other than hockey, so I caved. I don't think he meant it in a bad way, especially because he's been smoking way longer than I have. At least I'm not looking at it as a bad thing, because it's the only thing that's been stopping me from giving him another bloody nose.

Practice isn't for another hour, but I want to take advantage of the fresh ice while I can. I know Orion would be annoyed if he found out that I've been cutting up the ice before every practice, so that's why every time I'm here, I always slip the zamboni guy a few bills to go over it again once I finish up. He's a good guy and doesn't get paid enough for what he does, so I don't think he minds the extra cash. Besides, I like helping him out when I can.

I spend my time skating aimlessly, with really no end goal in mind. Just circles and circles around the rink, letting the cool breeze zip by me as I pick up speed. There really is nothing like skating on freshly zambonied ice. There are no cracks to mess you up and nothing to throw off your stride. Everything is just so... perfect.

When I've finally worked up a sweat, I skate over to the exit and slow myself down, sending a flurry of snow onto the rubber floor beneath me. Bill, the zamboni driver, chuckles to himself as I give him a smirk and a wad of cash. "You might want to work on your stop there, eh kid?"

"Oh please." I fire back, the smirk on my face growing into a smile. "I'm committed to the number one college hockey school in the nation. I think my stop is just fine."

"Go get ready for practice." he says, giving me little shove as I walk past him. "I'd pay to see Orion kick your ass one of these days, even though you've been good about not getting caught."

I turn around and flip him the bird, but he knows I'm joking. "Well good thing today isn't that day, Mr. Nelson. Have a good day."

"Go get 'em kid!" I hear him call as I walk down the hallway and into the locker room. I love the relationship I've built with him over these past few years, this one especially. He's one of the few people I go to when I'm upset, because I know he won't judge me for how I feel. That, and he doesn't sugarcoat anything. He'll tell me the truth no matter how much I don't want to hear it, and I have so much respect for him because of it.

I'm the first one in the locker room, like I always am after I free skate. I throw on my equipment and tape up my stick, enjoying the peace and quiet while I can. It's honestly nice having the quiet time to myself, because it can get pretty rowdy at times with my teammates around.