Chapter 6: The Interview

Justin.

I barely make it to my room when Aaron follows behind me with my phone in his hand.

My dad's name is on the screen. Bryce Harris.

I never thought of saving his name as "dad" because he doesn't deserve that title.

"Just talk to him and get it over with," Aaron tells me as I take the phone from him.

I push the door to my room open and walk inside while I pick up his call.

"I thought you'll ignore me forever," He says in that annoying tone I hate.

His voice gave me the realization that ignoring him won't make him disappear from my presence.

"Have you decided to quit that useless hockey dream of yours?" He asks almost immediately, and my grip tightens on the phone.

"If that's what you want to inquire about, then you just wasted your time," I reply as I sit on my bed.

"Hockey won't take you anywhere Justin, you're my only son. You should think about inheriting my company rather than pursuing a dream that would fail eventually!" He "advices" as usual.

I can't count the amount of time he said this.

It's basically the only thing we ever talk about. "Yelling at me won't change my mind," I say to him calmly.

His words don't hurt as much as they used to anymore.

I hear him sigh. "You'll regret your decision, and by then, it may be too late. You better hold on to that dream tightly because if you fail, it's over, " he seethes and ends the call.

I throw the phone on the bed and slump on it.

If I make even a single mistake of getting benched, Bryce Harris will never let me continue playing hockey.

My mind drifts to Tiffany. She better keep her end of the bargain. This is way more important to me than she can ever imagine.

-

I hear the coach yell from the sidelines as I swing hard, the puck flying off my stick before the goalie can react, It slams into the back of the net

"Come here!" He says again, and I stride toward him, removing my helmet.

"You're playing aggressively. You have teammates, work with them, don't just charge in, you're not the only one on the ice," Coach tells me.

"They're too slow," I tell him, and he frowns.

"Slow? Don't he arrogant. Get your head in the game, Harris," He reprimands.

"My head is in the game, I'm giving everything I've got," I yell back at him.

"You don't take corrections, and that's your biggest issue," Coach fires and sighs.

"Why don't we take a break while Justin calms down," Grant suggests behind me, and Coach nods.

He wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me away. "Calm down, Justin, don't get too fired up," He tells me.

I remove his hand from my neck. "I need space," I walk towards the locker room.

Shit

What's wrong with me? Yelling at a coach like that wasn't a good idea.

What if he decides to punish me for it. The one thing I am avoiding might just happen.

I pick up my bag from my locker after changing, and I walk out of the locker room.

My phone vibrated with notifications, and I scroll through I*******m to see Larry's new posts.

Pictures of myself and Tiffany walking out of the library with her bag in my hand.

The caption reads. "RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED!"

Larry is everywhere, I wonder if Tiffany would be able to beat him when it comes to the front page.

I was still scrolling through the comments when Tiffany's message came in.

Tiffany: I'm free right now, at the school's park, meet me there.

That didn't sound like I had a choice. Good thing I am free.

I pocket my phone and hurry to the school's park.

I needed something to get my head off all the pressure, or I might explode.

When I got to the park, Tiffany was sitting on the bench with a tiny note and a pen her hand.

She's always writing something on her tiny note ever since high-school and barely speaks to anyone.

Always in her own little world like nothing else matters.

I once admired that, but I would genuinely die of boredom and overthinking if I always isolate myself like she does.

And besides, the only reason she isolates herself is because she thinks no one is worth talking to.

"Wassup babe," I smile at her teasingly, taking a seat next to her.

"Don't call me that," That fiesty attitude again, where did all the peaceful and calm aura go?

"What are you doing?" I ask, and she closes the notebook like she didn't want me to see its contents.

Now I am very curious.

"None of your concern, let's talk about the last game, I need something to write before the end of the week," She tells me, and I sigh.

How am I supposed to tell her the reason I got fired up during the last game was because I wanted to prove her wrong.

She called a coward in that tone that says "everyone is trash."

Typical Tiffany Holmes.

Tiffany turned on her phone recorder. "How did you turn the tides in the last session?"

"Just did my normal thing," I reply, and she rolls her eyes and stops recording.

"That's not how you answer a question Justin, haven't you been in an interview before?" She snaps.

"Can we not talk about hockey right now?" I asks, and she frowns.

"Absolutely not. It's the only reason I am keeping this charade with you. We are doing the interview now!" Tiffany refuses and hit record.

"What motivated you to play the way you did during the last period? It was completely different from how you were played at the beginning,"

"I just wanted to prove a certain someone wrong for calling me a coward," I reply, and she pauses.

"Does being called a coward hit a nerve?" She scoffs, but I didn't reply.

I have absolutely no intention to feed her taunts.

"That's all?" She asks after a while.

"Pretty much, yeah..." I reply, and she stops recording.

"That's lame," Tiffany shakes her head, but before I can speak, her phone vibrates, and she picks it up.

"You've got to be kidding," I hear her say and raise an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" I mouth, she didn’t reply but instead glares at me.

What did I do now?