Chapter 13: The Not So Perfect Plan

Justin

Tiffany always finds a way to strike where it hurts.

“What? I didn’t say anything wrong,” she defends herself.

“Being under my father and doing everything he says is never better than ice hockey. You may hate ice hockey, but it’s my life,” I snap at her.

She presses her lips together and walks away from me.

I don’t go after her. I need to wait for Coach.

I want to know what my dad said to him.

Grant tells me he saw Bryce talking to Coach, and I need to know what he says to him.

I bring out my phone from my pocket to call Coach, but then I see him coming.

Yeah... I lied about my phone dying. I just didn't want to talk to anyone, and if I told Tiffany that, she’s definitely not going to like it.

“Harris, why are you in front of me?” Coach asks me as he walks towards me before walking 6 me and into the building, I follow behind him.

“I heard you spoke to my father,” I start, getting straight to the point.

“Oh, yes. He wants you out of the team,” Coach says, and I blink.

I knew he was going to do that.

My heart races as I walk fast enough to stand in front of Coach.

“And what did you say?” I ask.

“He made a very tempting offer, one I could not refuse,” Coach sighs, and my heart drops to my stomach.

I have a feeling that what he says next will ruin me.

“You’re off the team after this season,” Coach drops the bomb and walks past me.

“You can’t do that! I am the best player! The team won’t survive without me!” I scream after him.

“Well... we would try. There are other good players, Justin. It’s best not to go against your father.”

“But—” I try to say something, but he stops me.

“I already managed to convince him to let you play in this coming season. That’s the best I can do, Justin.” Coach taps my shoulder and walks away.

My feet are glued to the floor, my hands shaking slightly, combined with my racing heart.

It finally dawned on me that he didn’t only offer Coach something he can’t reject; he also threatened him.

I chuckle sadly.

He always finds a way to ruin my life.

I fold my palm into a fist and storm out of the building as I pull my phone from my pocket to call my father.

The one thing I haven't done in so many years.

The phone rings, but he doesn’t reply. I call five more times, but he doesn’t answer.

My grip on my phone tightened.

He knows what he has done, and now he doesn’have the guts to face me?

“I thought you said you weren’t with your phone? Dirty liar.”

I hear the familiar voice, and I look up to see Tiffany standing in front of me with a scowl.

“I’m not in the mood.” I walk past her, but she don't go away like she’s supposed to.

Instead, she stands in front of me.

“I got a message from Mrs. Willow. She accepted my article. There are high chances of it making it to the front page,” she tells me.

I guess one of us has to be happy.

“Good for you, Sherlock,” I reply curtly.

“You can’t even say congratulations,” she scoffs, but I ignore her. “I heard what your coach said.”

I look at her with a frown.

“You were eavesdropping?” I ask.

“Noo, I wasn’t. I just happen to hear it. You know, we journalists have a knack for hearing things,” she explains.

“Basically, you have the skills of eavesdropping, which is a bad habit,” I reprimand, and she frowns.

“That’s not what’s important. We need to find a way to stop you from getting kicked out of the team,” she says seriously.

I stare at her like she has gone mad.

To be honest, I expect her to be extremely happy about me getting kicked out of the team, but clearly, she isn’t.

“Why?” I ask.

“Why not? How are you going to get me on the front page and keep me there if you don’t play hockey? Our fake relationship would be a total waste,” Tiffany replies, and I sigh.

Of course, that’s what she’s worried about.

“First, we need to find out what your dad wants,” she tells me.

“I already told you what he wants. He wants me not to play hockey,” I reply. “I thought you left. Why did you come back?” I ask.

“I thought you didn’t have your phone on you,” Tiffany counters.

“You would have flipped if I told you I just didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially you,” I yell.

“I wouldn’t. I honestly do not care.”

“Didn’t seem like it.”

“That’s not how you talk to someone who wants to help you, you arse!” She punches my arm hard.

“Ouch...” I roll my eyes. Obviously, her punch does nothing to me.

“Anyway!” Tiffany screams. “Why don’t you tell your father that you would inherit his fortune or business or whatever, but you won’t?” she suggests.

“You’re teaching me to lie? I had no idea Mrs. Perfect lies, too,” I tease.

“I’m going to kill you.” Tiffany glares at me, and I laugh.

“That won’t work. If I say that, I will be on the first flight to Cambridge," I inform.

“Hmm... then let’s go with Plan B,” she says.

“Plan B? When did you have the time to think of Plan A and Plan B?” I ask.

“Unlike some morons, I actually use my brain.” Tiffany smiles mockingly, making me roll my eyes. “You just have to do so well this season. Your coach wouldn’t want to let you go, or, even better, you get scouted by an agent.” Tiffany shrugs.

“You think that would stop my dad?” I ask her.

“We still have to give it a shot. We can think of a permanent solution as that plans out,” Tiffany answers.

I have to say, that isn’t a bad idea. It may not guarantee success, but it’s worth a shot.

Tiffany’s phone pings. She stares at it and then smiles.

“I wonder what’s so funny,” I say, and she turns to look at me.

“Ava wants us to celebrate me getting on the front page.”

“But you haven’t made the front page yet,” I correct her, and she glares at me. “But... I need something to get my mind off me getting pulled out of the team, so where are we going?” I ask.

“We? There is no ‘we,’ Justin.” Tiffany frowns.

“Yes, there is... I’m pretty sure Ava would love to see your boyfriend.” I smile.

The look Tiffany gives me could literally kill.