This Thing That Breaks My Heart

Chapter 7

Carter felt himself starting to crack. The pressure was getting the best of him.

The first practice at camp was a disaster. He just couldn’t pull off a decent save. Ball after ball hit the back of the net. He dove in the wrong direction, came off his line too early, and fumbled the ball the few times he managed to snag it. Kev finally pulled him aside and warned him to get it together.

On the way to the locker room, Carter could feel the others give him sympathetic looks - he refused to make eye contact with anyone and immediately escaped into the showers.

* * * * * *

Aly arrived a day later. She tried again to meet Carter’s eyes, but it was useless. He obviously had no interest in sitting down and talking it out.

This man was so goddamn frustrating.

* * * * * *

Carter’s throat closed when he saw Aly was directing the scrimmage with Kev.

Fuck.

Having Aly there made it very difficult to keep his attention on the game.

His play was mediocre at best, and he could sense Kev's frustration boiling. He tried to focus on his back line, but managing it effectively was fairly impossible. Another shot whizzed past him, his dive a shade too slow. Carter slowly got to his feet, wincing as his shoulder gave a powerful throb. He grabbed the ball and slammed it hard to the ground, his frustration with himself boiling over.

Danny knocked shoulders with him a minute later. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he bit out. “Leave it.”

Danny put both hands up. “Just checking. Chill.”

“I’m fucking tired of everyone checking.”

Danny just sighed and walked away, shaking his head.

Kev finally pulled him out of the game, and he could feel Aly’s eyes trained on him as he walked to the bench.

Carter accidentally made eye contact a few moments later, and it shook him to the core.

A look of pity.

Another crack sent racing up the wall.

The bubbling emotions he had tried to suppress for so long were about to break through and rage.

* * * * * *

Again, he avoided all eye contact in the locker room, escaping to the shower. Erica cornered him outside afterwards and grabbed his arm before he could take off.

Carter tried to shrug her off, but Erica only gripped harder.

“Erica. Let go.”

“What the hell is up with you today?”

“I’m playing like shit, what do you think? Should I be bouncing around and dancing when I can’t fucking do my job?”

“It was one practice.”

“You don’t get it.” Carter rubbed his temple hard with his free hand.

“Maybe, but you’re not even giving me the chance. Talk to me, maybe I can help.”

Carter laughed harshly. “Sometimes you act like you’re the fucking ‘Carter whisperer.’ You’re not. I don’t need your help.”

“Hey, that’s not what...”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Jesus, you’re fucking always smothering me. Just leave me alone. For once in your life, stop being a fucking pest and leave me the fuck alone.”