4. KELLY

Kelly.

I make my way towards Coach's office first thing in the morning. I received a phone call from him while I was preparing for school, and he sounded somehow odd. I could tell something happened, and for some reason, I feel a strange sensation in my lower region.

Closing the door behind me, I meet Coach's eyes across from where he sits with his glasses on. That strange sensation I felt earlier comes again, only because I now know that there's actually something wrong. Coach only wears glasses when he's nervous.

“Have a seat, Blackwell,” he says, his voice a bit strained.

I nod and take the chair across from him. “Is something wrong, Coach?”

There is silence for a while before Coach leans forward and props his elbows on the desk, his eyes fixed on me. “You know it's that time of the season where players are traded off?”

I sink back into my seat and sigh. That was true. Coaches usually trade their players for another, and most times, it's usually a good thing for the team. But other times, let's just say it destroys everything.

But… I don't get why he's telling me this. There’s no way I’d be traded. I’m the best forward Dynamos has. Hell, I’m the captain. My place is here.

“What does that have to do with me?” I shrug, trying to sound indifferent. But when Coach takes a deep breath, my stomach tightens.

“You were the one we picked.”

His words hit like a puck to the chest. For a moment, I just stare at him, waiting for the punchline. Then I laugh—sharp, disbelieving.

“Good one, Coach. You almost had me.” But he isn’t smiling.

My laughter dies.

“Fuck! That’s impossible!”

I’m on my feet before I realize it, slamming a hand on his desk. Papers scatter, but I don’t care. “You can’t trade me! You know the team needs me if we’re gonna win the Frozen Four!” My voice cracks with frustration, but I don’t care about that either.

Coach doesn’t flinch. He stands and places a hand on my shoulder, meeting my gaze head-on. There’s regret in his eyes, and it pisses me off even more.

“You have every right to be upset, son,” he says gently. “But I thought this through. You’re a great player—one of the best. Someday, you’re going to the Olympics. But to reach your full potential, you need to grow in a different program.”

What the hell is he talking about? I know that there are better Hockey schools out there but I love it here at Dynamos. Dynamos is my home. I have a great team too and right now, I was gonna lose all that just because Coach thought I'd do well in some better school.

Someone say fuck life.

This really sucks and I hate that I can't do anything about it. All the years I had trained to be where I am right now is all going to be a waste. My fucking sweat and time were invested in bringing me to where I am right now, and that was as the best forward and captain. Nothing gives me more joy than being a leader and I have been doing well so far. The trophies lining this office is enough proof.

So I tell Coach about it and he still doesn't change his mind.

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” My voice cracks, almost pleading.

The shake of his head is enough answer.

“Which school?” I ask, defeated.

The look in his eyes says I'm not gonna like what he's about to tell me.

“Phoenix Frost.”

Minutes later, I’m throwing my stuff in my bag. I am seething within myself and I have every right to.

It was now clear to me that being traded has nothing to do with being a good player. But it doesn't make the sting hurt any less.

I feel disposable.

Worthless.

Fucking replaceable.

I look around the empty locker room, and tears pool up in my eyes. This place has so many sweet memories of me and my teammates, and right now, I'm leaving everything behind. This is where we cheer whenever we win a game, and right here is where we huddle together and cry when we lose a game.

My heart beats fast as I glance at the framed picture on the wall. I was in the middle holding a golden trophy we won at the World's, with Eden grinning at my side, and the team huddled around us, all smiles and pride. We had fought harder than ever that season, defeating the Phoenix Frost twice.

And now, I was being sent to enemy territory. The irony isn't lost on me.

My breath hitches. I can’t help but wonder—how am I supposed to play against my teammates? It'd be so fucking hard.

Once I’ve packed everything, I throw my bag over my shoulder and head out the door. Coach told me I could choose to go home so I could pack my things before leaving for Phoenix Frost the following day. And did I mention the distance from home to the school? It was fucking long and I wonder how I'm going to survive.

It’s quiet outside, too. No one in sight. I wonder if they knew about the trade already, or if they’re just avoiding me. Either way, it hurts too much to stick around and find out.

I can’t leave without saying goodbye. But I know it’ll make it hurt even more.

Just as I’m contemplating whether or not to wait for them, I hear shouting in the distance. I turn around, and my heart nearly stops.

A group of familiar figures is making their way toward me—my teammates, my brothers. They’re carrying banners, waving them high in the air. My name is painted across them, bold and clear, and beneath it, a message that reads:

YOU’LL BE MISSED, CAPTAIN KELLY.

For a moment, I’m frozen, my bag slipping down my shoulder as I stare. The tears I’ve been fighting burn hotter now. The lump in my throat tightens until breathing feels like a chore.

Before I know it, they’re all around me. Arms pulling me in, voices murmuring words I can’t process over the roaring in my ears.

“Stop crying, Captain. It’s going to be alright,” Our Defenseman, Griffin whispers, his voice thick, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as me.

I feel the weight of their sadness, their unspoken goodbyes, pressing against me in this group hug. It’s suffocating and comforting all at once. I squeeze my eyes shut, soaking in the moment, knowing it’ll be the last time we’re like this. Together.

Eventually, the hug breaks apart, and I meet Eden’s gaze. My right-hand man. My best friend on the ice. He steps forward, his hand settling on my shoulder, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“You might like it better there,” he jokes softly, but I can hear the ache underneath. He doesn’t mean it. None of us do.

“Yeah,” I manage to croak, forcing a smirk I don’t feel. “That’s what I keep telling myself. Phoenix Frost is better, right? New opportunities.”

The words taste like ash in my mouth, but saying them out loud makes it seem less hopeless. Less like a death sentence.

Eden’s smile fades, replaced by something quieter. “They’re lucky to have you. Don’t let them forget it.”

I nod, clinging to the strength in his voice. It’s what I need to hear. What I’ll carry with me when the ice at Phoenix Frost feels unfamiliar and the crowd cheers for the wrong side.

One by one, my teammates step up—clapping my shoulder, pulling me in for quick hugs, whispering good luck and promises to keep in touch.

When the goodbyes are over, and I finally turn to leave, the ache in my chest feels heavier. They are unhappy that I'm leaving and I know that I'm going to be missed.

I don’t look back. If I do, I know I won’t be able to go.