It's roughly 2 pm now. All of the guys stuck around to talk about draft picks. Since Patrick is my ride, I'm stuck here until he decides he's ready to go. I get too winded to walk home and I have no money on me for a cab. I've spent the day wandering the building, touching stuff I probably shouldn't as I go. Before I know it, I'm sat down in the stands falling asleep. Patrick comes an hour later, waking me up gently. I groggily follow him to the car where he takes us home.
2 days later
Its 6:30 am again. This is the third day in a row we've gone to the UC. Today is the day we meet the new coach. His name is Don Clemente. I've looked him up online and he's good. He's never coached any NHL teams but his teams have done very, very well in the AHL. He seems very serious and driven, but in a different way than Q. Something about him seems off and I can tell Kane is nervous. He held the steering wheel too tight as he drove this morning and he's been slamming doors. We sit in the same two seats in the conference room, waiting to meet the coach. Unlike the past two days, the room is almost silent. No one has much to say due to the nerves caught in their throats. None of us know very much about this coach and the boys are terrified. After five or so minutes, a buff man stomps into the room. His skin is tanned and his hair is slicked back. His suit is perfectly fitted, without a single wrinkle. There's a slight darkness under his eyes and his eyebrows are naturally pointed downwards. He looks around the room and purses his thin lips before clapping his meaty hands together. The noise echoes throughout the room, a few of us jumping.
"Alright. Good morning. I am Don Clemente, but you may only address me by Coach. We aren't friends, I am your boss. We have a lot to do. We'll be having a practice later today so I can survey you guys and see who I'm protecting. We will work on draft picks later tonight." He states. His voice is loud and I can hear a slight French Canadian accent. Jonny shifts beside me and raises his hand up, grabbing Don's attention. Don nods at him, signaling him to speak.
"I'm Jonathan Toews, sir. I'm the captain. We actually-" Don raises his hand to stop him. I notice a large ring on his pinkie finger.
"Yeah, no you aren't. Until I survey you guys none of you are captains or alternates or anything until I advise otherwise." He says sourly, glaring at Jonathan.
"But, sir- uh, Coach, Jonny has been our captain for years." Corey chimes, the attention in the room turning to him. The stranger shakes his head, muttering a small laugh.
"Didn't you hear me, son? You boys are nothing until I tell you otherwise. I'm the coach now. This is how I do things." Don answers
"Well this," Patrick stands up and gestures to all of the boys, "is how we do things. Jonathan is our captain. He's won us three cups. This is our team not yours. I know you're our coach now, but if anything you should be adjusting, not us." Everyone nods at Patrick talks, clearly supporting him. His temper comes in handy sometimes.
"And what is your name?" Don asks, his eyebrow cocked.
"Patrick Kane, sir." He replies, proudly.
"I thought so. You're the one with all the... problems." Don shrugs. I look up at Patrick and he turns and looks at me with shock on his face.
"Actually-" I stand up but Pat grabs my arm, shaking his head at me.
"Oh! Right, um, can you run and get me a large black coffee. But not from Starbucks." Don directs his attention towards me, pulling his phone from his pocket as he talks.
"What?" I ask, still standing next to Patrick. I glance around the room and everyone is extremely confused as well. The tension in the room has quickly risen.
"Well you're the only female in this room. Unless you're sleeping with all of the players I'm assuming you actually work here. I need an assistant." Don sighs and my jaw drops. He looks me up and down slowly, chewing his lip slowly. His eyes stop on my bulging stomach and he gives me the creepiest smile I have ever witnessed, "Well you're definitely sleeping with one of them, huh?" Without thinking I grab someone's coffee and plant my right foot on the table. A couple guys yell and jump up to grab me before I can hoist myself up. Patrick snatches the coffee from my hand as Jonny and Brandon place me back on the floor, their arms steadying me for a moment.
"This is Evelyn. She is your assistant. I'm sorry we forgot to remind her you were coming." Jonathan says, him and Brandon releasing their grip from my body. My head whips around and I glare at Jon.
"What the fuck." I whisper and he grabs my face, bringing his mouth close to my ear.
"Do it, please. Get info from him. Don't let him know those kids are Patrick's." He whispers back and I roll my eyes. His hands drop to his sides as I look him over.
"Okay." I answer and he sighs, "You said a large black coffee?" I ask Don, turning on my 'customer service' voice.
"Yes, sweetheart." He replies, a smile on his face, "I'm glad 'Toes' has a leash on you." I grit my teeth as I grab my purse, throwing it over my arm.
"Yeah, Toes, where would I be without you?" I answer, beginning to walk out of the room. Patrick gives me a small smile as I storm off, heading to the front of the building.
I miss Coach Q.
YOU ARE READING
House (Sequel to Butterflies)
Fanfiction"Be careful," I whisper, peering down at my doe eyed newborn, "Boys will make you do stupid things. One minute you're just looking at them, and the next you're in the delivery room having his twin babies."
