Jake
The buzzer above us sounds, signaling that pregame skate is over and we all take one final slap of the puck into the net as we make our way down the tunnel and to the locker room. I’m one of the last ones off the ice, and as soon as the blades of my skates hit the pavement, Coach is calling me over to him. I walk over and he guides me into a separate room, where we wait a few moments before Connor and the twins enter as well as Coach Johnson.
It’s the first game of the new year on home ice, and I’m really excited to see what the second half of this season looks like.
“Listen, I hate to do this to you boys right before the game, but I need you to know what’s going on so you aren’t blindsided.” The coach looks directly at me and the expression on his face has my heart dropping into my stomach.
“What’s up, Coach?” Connor asks.
“As you both know, Eric Daniels was put on administrative leave, pending a full investigation into his actions and the harassment charges filed against him.” Allfour of us nod, not daring to speak. “It looks like after a thorough investigation, HR has determined there is nothing actionable to the claims and that he will be returning to work as of tonight.”
I’m stunned into silence, pissed off that after everything that he’s done to who knows how many women, he’s going to get away with everything. That after Hannah and Kailyn bravely came forward and told their stories of the verbal and sexual harassment, this piece of shit is going to walk away without facing any consequences.
Judging by the look on Coach’s face, and the frustration that lines his tone, I can tell he’s just as livid as I am, if not more.
“So, what does this mean? They can’t be serious, can they?” As captain, Connor was immediately looped into the situation. He didn’t know what happened that night with Hannah, only that he saw them jump apart and she seemed off after. After he learned what really happened from her, he was pissed at himself for missing the signs and at Eric for what he did.
“We tried to fight it, but since they closed out the investigation, there’s nothing we can do. We can’t get rid of him, and we can’t move him. He’ll end up flipping the narrative and claim we’re harassing him, which gets him exactly what he wants.”
“So, we just stay silent and sit by as he sexually harasses the women that work here? Coach, your daughter works here!” I yell in frustration, finally finding my voice.
“I know!” He shouts back, and I’ve never heard him yell like this, with fear in his voice. “You think I don’t know that. I’m just as livid as you are that he gets to continue to walk these halls and do whatever he wants to Emilia, to Kailyn, to Hannah…to any of the girls here.” His voice gets choked upand he has to close his eyes, breathing in to control himself.
“Look,” Coach Johnson intervenes. “As screwed up as this situation is, it’s where we’re at right now. We can all sit here and be angry and feel helpless, or we can get exactly what they need. Proof.”
“And how do we do that? We just wait until he decides to hurt one of them again? He knows we’re after him, he might lay low for a while and in the meantime we’re stuck with him,” Brayden bites back in frustration.
“No, we’re done waiting, and we’re done playing by the rules. It’s time to pull out the big guns and take this sick bastard down,” Coach says, a determined look on his face.
“So, what’s the plan then?”
We’re three minutes into the third period, and the score is five to one with us in the lead against Minnesota.
I’m centered in the neutral zone, awaiting an opening so Brandon can pass the puck to me. He tries to skate out to his left but becomes cornered by one of Minnesota’s defenseman. He tries again to get rid of him with no luck, and has to send the puck out toward our zone, away from the other team.
Brandon pushes off the boards and begins to skate toward the puck when Davis, one of their defensive players, darts his stick out in front of Brandon, causing him to trip and fall face first into the ice.
The whistle blows signaling a stop to the play. The referees all gather by the penalty box as they converse,confirming the call before one of them comes skating to center ice to announce the ruling.
“Minnesota number forty-three two minute minor for tripping.” The ref calls over the loudspeaker.
I skate over to Brandon to help him stand, when Davis comes skating over screaming “That’s bullshit. You tripped on your own.”
“If having your stick in the way means that I tripped on my own, then we’ll go with your version, Davis,” Brandon goads him.
During a game, Brandon has a mouth on him and can take punches like the rest of us. Outside of the rink, you wouldn’t see this side of him. Plus, after learning that Eric is back tonight, tensions are running high.
Davis is an enforcer, known for his more aggressive playing style and tactics, as well as being one of the leaders in penalty minutes. He’s always looking to start shit, and has no problems with causing a scene and making a mess.
“That’s rich coming from you. Maybe learn to use your fucking eyes next time, pansy.” Davis snarls, and before I can stop them, they both have their fists in each other's jerseys and are fighting. The roar of the crowd increases, and all the players on the ice skate over to find a way to separate them.
Finding a safe opening, the refs grab onto each of them and pull them apart, breaking up the fight. “Go serve your two minutes before I make it a five, Davis,” the ref calls out.
Davis spits at the ice before he skates over to the penalty box.
“Hey, I’m mad about Eric, too, but you never fight like this.”
Wiping his face, he turns around, so he’s facing the bench. “I’mfine.”