To You, With Love

Chapter Eight: People Never Change

Another day, another game.

Today was the day my dad finally promoted me to assistant coach of the Toronto Maple Leafs.

It was about time.

"Are you ready to go, coach?" My dad winked.

A huge smile inched across my face as I took the final bite of my banana.

"Sure am, coach."

I threw the peel away and grabbed my skates from the doorknob before heading outside and into the car. My dad joined me moments later with two travel mugs in his hands. He passed one to me and placed the other in the cup holder next to the driver's seat.

"Thanks dad." I said, teeth chattering. I huddled up against the seat and let the warmth of the coffee heat up my hands and the steam warm my face.

---

It had been three weeks since the Hurricanes were in Toronto, and I'd missed Jiri more than ever.

"What are you thinking about?" My dad interrupted.

So, my daydreaming was pretty obvious, but there was no way I was telling him what I was really thinking.

"I'm just--" I froze, trying to think of a lie, "Thinking about our competition tonight."

That was by far the worst lie I'd ever told. Very well done, Misty.

"The Jets?" My dad asked.

"Yeah, I watched their last game," I stuttered, "They're really tough competition."

My dad just nodded and began to mouth the words to some song from the 80's. The song was by a band that never really made it big back then.

"Can we put something better on? Please." I asked.

Stupid me forgot my phone at home. He was obliging to change the station to something I liked.

I turned the knob on his dash until I found a pop station. Iggy Azalea's 'Black Widow' was on. I tapped my feet to the beat until we finally reached the arena.

"Got the sticks?"

I nodded and popped the trunk. My father locked the truck before making his way to the arena with the biggest smile on his face.

I slipped on my fuzzy black gloves before facing the cold air outside of the vehicle.

Frantically, I grabbed the sticks and walked quickly to the building where immediately my face began to burn from the abrupt tempurature change.

I brought the sticks to the guy's locker room before putting my jacket, hat and mitts in my dad's office. And after being in the arena for 15 minutes, I finally regained the feeling in my toes.

"Hey, coach!" James Reimer greeted me as I got onto the ice.

James was my best friend on the team and it's been that way since he was drafted in 2006. He was the only guy from that draft that was still there for me.

"James!" I shouted.

"You're it!" I tapped him with my glove and began to skate to the other side of the rink. He followed behind as fast as he could, but thankfully, his pads were slowing him up.

"Next time, Mist!" He shouted at me as he skated backwards to the bench.

Years back, the three of us were inseperable. But know, you'd never know it.

My father called me over towards him and began whispering into my ear.

"I want you to start a skating drill. 1-on-3, got it?"