"She tried to click anywhere to see if there was another page. There had to be another page. There must be eight more girls from T-Z. He must’ve just forgotten to attach it like the jackass she was finding out he is. But the document only had one page. That page only had eight names."
Right before the first practice, Heather gets a nasty surprise about the team
Tags: Passive suicidality, implied/referenced alcoholism, implied/referenced past abuse, internalized misogyny, references to injuries, emotional angst, high school au, hockey au, third person POV, lesbian characters, trans character, Heather needs a hug, No beta we die like Mac
Ao3 Official Playlist (Spotify) Masterlist
“Are you ready for this?” The man in the gray suit leaned down to ask her. Heather thought it was funny, he wasn’t much taller than she was. But she supposed that’s just how it was. As much as she wanted people to see her as an adult, at thirteen she was far from it.
“Mhm,” she nodded as that one lady was still fussing over her hair. So much of a fuss over her. She wasn’t used to it. She wasn’t used to the feeling of makeup on her face. She wasn’t used to the way they curled her bangs. This was never her type of thing but by the way everyone was talking, she guessed that it was important.
“Okay,” he nodded, straightening his back and facing towards the camera. “There’s no need to be nervous, we’re just talking.”
“Yeah,” she gave him a slight smile. Yeah, just talking. Just talking into a microphone in front of a camera. Just a little conversation that everyone at school would be asking about tomorrow. It wasn’t important at all. Nothing about it could possibly make her nervous.
She looked up at the camera as well. That big black box. All those people behind it. The operator. The guy holding the boom mic. A couple of producers, one counting down from twenty and another mouthing ‘smile’ at her.
A couple of deep breaths. Ten, nine, eight, seven. How could anyone not be nervous? Six, five, four, three. God, she never should’ve agreed to this. Two. Was there still time to–
“Most people might think that hockey is a man’s sport,” the man started talking right on cue. “A way for those rough and tumble boys to get out their energy and aggression. The peak of masculinity but those people should be ready to get proven wrong.”
She tried to keep that smile plastered on her face as he kept talking. How did people do this for a living? Nothing about it felt natural.
“Local Calgary teen, Heather McNeil, has been carving a space of her own in the rink,” she must’ve looked as crazy as she felt. Everyone watching at home must be able to tell that she was about to throw up. “A hockey prodigy that has been making waves not only for her aggressive play style but also her personality on and off the ice. Tell me, Heather, when did you know that this was your sport?”
“Oh, you know,” she let out an awkward laugh, not even noticing the way she was swaying her hips, “I just love being out on the ice. Ever since I was a kid, I’d beg my parents to take me to the rink and I saw some kids in their hockey practice and I just knew that’s what I wanted to do.”
“And did you ever think about going into a more feminine sport like figure skating or was there just something special about hockey?”
“I was never interested in being girly or flouncy or anything,” she rolled her eyes at the question. Her parents tried to convince her to go into it for years until they realized it was no use. It didn’t matter, she didn’t want to be a fragile little ice dancer. “Hockey makes me feel powerful. I love getting aggressive, fighting for the puck, I love sinking a goal and hearing the buzzer. I don’t care if people think I shouldn’t, I love nothing more.”
“Confident girl, I see,” he nodded. “And are you ever intimidated by all the boys? Do you ever feel out of place?”
“Not at all,” Heather laughed at the suggestion. “If anything, the boys are intimidated by me. I’ve been the only girl in the rink more times than I can count and I can tell you, there’s nothing they hated more than when I scored on them.”
“Well, watch out boys, it seems like nothing can slow this hot shot down,” he put his hand on her shoulder. “And folks at home, I’m sure this isn’t the last time we’ll hear about Heather. Doug Parker, five o’clock news.”
She took a deep breath and dropped that dopey smile the second the producers gave her a go ahead. This might be the first time but if her plans go right it surely won’t be the last.
~~~✩~~~✩~~~✩~~~
Heather didn’t know how she thought that she’d be able to get the first practice off her mind. As much as they tried to hide it, she knew that was the whole reason they hired her. The whole teaching position was just a ruse. A way to secure her for what they really wanted.
From the interview, it didn’t seem dire. They just needed a coach for the next season. Also happened to have an opening for an english teacher. And despite her lack of experience in both fields, they decided she was the perfect fit.
But the longer she sat at her desk, thinking about it, the more she wasn’t sure if anything was adding up. There were supposed to be tryouts a week ago. It seemed like one of the most logical steps. Get herself acquainted with the girls and find out who would mesh together. But then she got an email from the athletics director that they didn’t have the supplies or budget or numbers for a junior varsity team.
Whatever, that’s fine. As much as she wanted some idea of what she was walking into, she understood that it was a waste of everyone else's time. She’d just have to figure out the starting roster before the first game. She’d also have to find the full roster to begin with. Despite how many emails she sent requesting it, they seemed to be keeping their lips real tight about it.
Was this normal? Did all their coaches have to deal with a lack of transparency? She should’ve asked Wanda when she had the chance. It seemed like she had a better idea of who was on the team anyway. But if she knew, then Heather could rest easy knowing that it wasn’t just some puppet team.
She was probably worried about nothing. Surely they weren’t throwing her to the wolves. She couldn’t go into this having already decided that it was going to be a disaster. The more she thought about it, the less she could focus on her actual job.
“Mrs. Hudson…” A student walked up to her desk as she kept refreshing her email. The director promised to send her the roster before lunch, which was fast approaching.
“It’s Ms. McNeil,” Heather reminded them, looking up from her screen.
“Yeah, sorry,” they laughed it off. “Umm, what was the reading for tonight?”
“Chapters 8 through 10 along with the third worksheet,” she answered as a notification popped up from her inbox. “You can also consult the board, y’know.”
“Oh, yeah,” they looked over to where tonight's homework was clearly written before walking away. A thank you would’ve been nice but she has learned in the short few months she’s been here not to expect much.
She sighed as she opened the email. Extremely impersonal. She couldn’t rule out that he wasn’t using AI or just some shitty template. But she didn’t care that much. She could deal with some vague rudeness if it meant that she got the roster. And it was just her luck to see that PDF attached at the bottom.
‘26-27 Stellar Academy Comettes Hockey Roster’
She took a deep breath and chose to ignore the nonsensical feminization that they seemed so attached to. But she knew how these things worked, she had to get a bit more respect before she started making changes. She didn’t even know who was on the team and she was already making plans to change their name.
But as Heather opened the document she couldn’t help but feel confused. She looked over it twice just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
Beaubier, Jeanne-Marie
Blaire, Alison
Dean, Laura
Killgrave, Kara
Kinney, Laura
Lee, Jubilation
Smallwood, Marrina
Smith, Tabitha
She tried to click anywhere to see if there was another page. There had to be another page. There must be eight more girls from T-Z. He must’ve just forgotten to attach it like the jackass she was finding out he is. But the document only had one page. That page only had eight names.
Was that even a team? A starting roster and two alternates? That was absurd. That was nonsensical. Every team she’s ever been on had sixteen members or more. She hadn’t even heard of a team with less than twelve. How did this get cleared? Could they even compete? One injury and the season would be over.
No, she had to get to the bottom of this. There was no way they were expecting her to have any sort of success. It was a set up. Half a normal team. How were they supposed to win when most of the team would be in for the entire game? Hell, she couldn’t have won with an eight man team.
She quickly pressed the reply button and started typing quickly.
Hello,
Thanks for sending the roster but it appears there’s a problem. The document you sent over only has eight names which I’m sure you know is practically unheard of for a hockey team. I was wondering if there was another page you forgot to send over? If so, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could send it over by the end of the day.
All the best,
Heather McNeil
She leaned back and let out a heavy sigh as she pressed send. As if it wasn’t already a long day. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about as is. The last thing she needed was being given the run around.
“Mrs. Hudson?” Another student approached her desk.
“It’s Ms. McNeil,” she corrected for the second time this period. “What do you need?”
“What worksheet are we doing tonight?”
“The third worksheet,” she looked over at the board just to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind. Nope, she wasn’t. It was right there. Clear as day. Everyone just seemed to be dedicated to making her go insane today.
~~~✩~~~✩~~~✩~~~
Pain killers didn’t seem to work for as long as they claimed to. Only eight hours into a pill that claimed to work for twelve and her leg was already getting too much to bear. She was starting to develop a nasty habit of pounding ibuprofen. Negative effects on her health be damned. Not that it actually worked.
Heather still wasn’t used to this ‘constantly in pain’ bullshit. She didn’t know if she’d ever be. Right now, she was gunning on all of this being temporary. She just had to find the right medication and the right surgeon and the right whoever else who’d understand perfectly how to fix it.
She was too young to have to deal with this for the rest of her life. She had too much life to live for such a grim prognosis. It got in the way of everything. The prospect that it wasn’t going to get better didn’t excite her.
But she couldn’t waste too much time feeling sorry. She had to haul as much ass as she could muster to get to the rink. They had a rink at the academy, she thanked god that she didn’t have to drive. It was only as far from her classroom as it could possibly be.
It didn’t matter, she had to make the trip. No one was going to pick her up and carry her. She wasn’t going to debase herself by getting some old lady scooter. She just had to walk through it. She just had to act like every step wasn’t killing her.
At least her poker face was getting better. After a while, she learned how to keep it in. She couldn’t grimace with every step so she just kept a neutral face as her leg was betraying the rest of her body. There was no point in dramatics if this was the baseline from now on.
The doors to the rink were propped open. Even from down the hall she could feel that familiar cold draft. Heather pushed down that wave of nostalgia that it brought. All those memories from all those years of walking into rinks just like this one. Prepared for another game, another season, another opportunity to prove that she was worth her weight.
She guessed that she was proving herself in a different way. Instead of getting on the ice and sinking pucks in the net, she had to do the impossible. That was if she wasn’t being punked. The athletic director never replied to her email. All she wanted was a confirmation either way. She wanted to know what she was walking into.
But as she walked down the stairs of the bleachers, she realized it was still going to be awhile. The seats were completely empty. Well almost empty if it wasn’t for that one seat next to the glass.
“Good afternoon, Coach McNeil,” the short man greeted her as she clutched the railing to try and take any sort of pressure off her throbbing leg.
“Hello,” she returned the greeting. “You must be Coach Judd.”
“Please, just call me Puck,” he laughed. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” she nodded, finally making her way to the front row. She found it odd how they managed to keep an assistant coach when they lost the head one. But from every other point of reference she had a feeling that this team was just weird. “Where’s the team?”
“They should be showing up in a few minutes,” he checked his wrist watch. “Their favorite line is ‘practice doesn’t start until 3:30’ so might as well get used to it.”
“All of them?”
“Basically,” he shrugged. “Half our job is just getting them to pay attention to what we’re saying.”
“Well, you seem to know a lot about this team,” she took a deep breath.
“After five years, I better,” he joked. “I’m sure they told you everything.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Heather sighed, leaning against the glass, still trying to act like her leg wasn’t making her want to kill herself. “It seems like this school is gunning on me not knowing anything about the team. I didn’t even know that the team only had eight members until three hours ago.”
“Now, that’s a nasty surprise,” he shook his head. “I’m honestly surprised they didn’t just cut their losses and pull the plug.”
“I don’t mean to be rude but how are they supposed to have a chance in hell with a team this small?” Heather crossed her arms. “Are they expecting us to win any sort of game when a healthy team is twice this size?”
“We’re anemic, I know,” someone added as they made their way into the bleachers. “We lost four last year and only gained two.”
“Oh, hello,” she tried to drop the attitude when she walked in. As upset as she was about the way things were going down, she couldn’t show it to the girls. “Welcome in.”
“Hi,” she greeted her back. Heather looked up to see a familiar looking girl with dark brown hair walking up to her. “I’m Laura, team captain this year.”
“Nice to meet you,” she nodded, wondering which Laura she was talking to. It seems like just her luck that she could have the smallest hockey team in the league and still have to deal with a double name.
“Where’s the rest of ya?” Puck asked as she put her bag down next to a chair in the front.
“Where do you think?” She rolled her eyes. “Wasting time like they usually do.”
Heather brought out her phone and checked the time. 3:20. Not late enough to get pissed about it yet. If it was her, she wouldn’t take any chances. She’d try to make a good impression on her new coach. But it wasn’t like she could reasonably expect a team full of little clones of her.
“Well, hopefully they won’t waste too much time,” she sighed, watching those big doors. Willing the rest of them to walk in. Or at least she was trying to.
“They usually just beat the buzzer,” Laura explained, grabbing a headband out of her bag. God, she looked so familiar but Heather just couldn’t place it. “I tried to push them along but they don’t take it as seriously as I do.”
At least one of them took it seriously. It was starting to seem like that was all she could hope for. But despite what some managers would want everyone to believe, one player didn’t make a team. She couldn’t count on the skills of a single player.
Soon enough, a few more girls started to shuffle their way in. One tall girl with short green hair parked herself near the front. A pair of them coming together, one with an oversized purple sweater and a shorter, black girl seemingly trying to hide behind her. Another with wavy black hair sitting away from the rest of them.
She looked at the time again. Only five minutes and we were still missing three girls. Over half the team on time wasn’t too bad considering the size. That didn’t mean it didn’t piss her off.
Laura was typing something on her phone. The girl with the green hair was sitting back in the stadium seat, looking more bored than anything. The pair was still together with the shorter girl whispering something in the other's ear. The last girl was still sitting a row back and at least five seats away from anyone else, with a look on her face that said she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Alright, well,” Heather cleared her throat. She had no reservations about starting before the clock hit the exact time. If anything, it would be a lesson to those girls who seemed to be in no rush, “hello everybody. Welcome to another season, hopefully it will be a good one.”
“Well, it won’t be hard to beat our record last year,” Puck joked, which made a few of them laugh.
“Everyone has so much confidence in this team,” she sighed as the last three came in all at once. Not a hint of worry on any of them. “How nice of you guys to join us.”
“It’s 3:28,” one of the blonde girls stated as they took their seats next to their friend.
“On time is late,” Laura stared them down.
“You’re the only person who thinks that,” the girl with short black hair and the yellow jacket rolled her eyes.
“First impressions are important,” Puck reminded them, “and in case you forgot what happened last season, you guys have a new coach.”
“Thank you,” I said before turning back to the stands. “Well, if any of you guys haven’t figured it out, I’m your new coach. You can call me Coach McNeil or Coach Heather. I don't mind either way.”
“I thought your last name was Hudson,” the blonde who reminded everyone of the time said.
“Tabby, stop,” Laura turned sharply to her friend.
“What?” She raised her hands. “I remember the poster on your wall saying–”
“Not anymore,” Heather let out that smile she gave everyone who made the same mistake in the past few months. “Anyways, I’m sure that all of you guys know each other but I know we must have a few new faces, including my own, so why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves?”
“I’ll start,” the voice next to her called out as he stepped forward. “My name’s Coach Judd, you can call me Puck, and I’ve been the Comettes assistant coach for five years so I’m sure none of you guys have played a season without me.”
We turned to the girls who were all avoiding our gazes. Like none of them wanted to be called on. None of them wanted to be the first to speak up.
“If no one speaks up, then I’ll just have to call off names on the–”
“Screw it,” the green haired girl mumbled, saving the rest of them from embarrassment. “Hello, my name’s Marrina. I’m a senior this year and I play left wing.”
She looked over to her left, to the only person who’d already introduced themselves to me. “Okay well, my name’s Laura. Laura Kinney, since there’s two of us this year. Junior, center and team captain.”
She nudged the blonde next to her. “I was going to anyway. Hi, I’m Alison, also a junior and defender.”
“Jubilation, but I go by Jubilee,” the next one started without being prompted. “Junior, defender.”
The flow seemed to catch on as the next blonde introduced herself. “Tabitha, call me Tabby. Another junior, right wing.”
The attention turned towards the next row, where the line wasn’t as clear cut. The black girl was busy whispering something into the other one’s ear as everyone’s eyes were on them.
“Yeah, I got you,” she nodded before turning to the rest of them. “Hi, I’m Kara. Sophomore and goalie. This is Laura Dean, she’s a freshman and also plays defense.”
“Okay,” she nodded. It was a bit weird that she talked to her but by the way that Laura looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor, she decided not to push. There was only one person who wasn’t speaking up. One person who didn’t want to introduce herself. It took a good few seconds of everyone staring before she rolled her eyes and decided to speak up.
“I’m Jeanne-Marie,” she answered with her arms crossed. “Junior and I don’t know.”
“You’ve never played before?” Heather asked, which earned her a slow nod. “That’s fine. We all gotta start somewhere. This is my first year coaching so I’m sure that we will all learn a lot this year.”
The longer she stood there, her back against the glass, the more she realized that she was in over her head. From first impressions, she knew that this was a job for someone with far more experience than she did. A late game challenge she was thrown into before she even got through the tutorial.
It wasn’t that she didn’t think they had experience. It was just that most of them had this air of apathy about them. That they didn’t care whether or not they won. Hell, maybe she just needed to lower her expectations.
“Well, to address the obvious, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a team this small,” she let out a slight laugh. “A starting team and two alternates, it’s almost unthinkable but as long as you guys are willing to try then I am too.”
“We tried to recruit but…” Marrina gestured to the nearly empty bleachers.
“No one wants to hop on The Titanic,” Alison shrugged.
“Okay well,” she brought out her phone to pull up the schedule, “our first meet is in two weeks which might sound far away but it doesn’t give us a lot of time. We’ve got five practices before then, not including this one. And as dire as you guys might think the situation is, I’d greatly appreciate it if we could come back tomorrow and give it our all, okay?”
A chorus of okays reached her ears as she put the phone back in her pocket. “Alright, it was great meeting you guys, got a great season ahead of us. I’ll see all you guys tomorrow so be ready and on the ice by 3:30.”
The second she dismissed them, they started talking amongst themselves. Whatever it was, some after practice plans or general gossip she didn’t need to be privy to any of it. What they got up to after she left them to their devices was none of her business. There was nothing more embarrassing or creepy than a coach who thought they were one of the girls.
But there was something on her mind. Something no one had bothered to bring up to her.
“Hey, Puck,” Heather walked up as he was grabbing his bag.
“Hey,” he smiled up at her. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, “you said something about your guys’ record last year?”
“Oh yeah,” he let out a laugh. “It’s no wonder the other coach got out of it as soon as he did.”
“What was it exactly?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over something the girls were talking about behind them.
“They didn’t tell you?” He looked confused.
“They didn’t even tell me how many members were on the team until the last minute,” she reminded him.
“Well sorry if it’s a surprise, but it was 0-10,” he sighed as he admitted it.
“Zero?!” She practically screamed, which made everyone else stop their conversations. “You mean you guys didn’t…”
“Nope,” Puck shook his head.
“Well…” Heather took a deep breath. Not a single game won last year and they had two less team members. She was trying to be optimistic. No, really, she was. But after this… “Thanks.”
“Any time,” he let out an awkward laugh. She’d give anything to be proven wrong. She wanted to be hopeful but all the signs were pointing in the same direction. It wasn’t the first time she said it and it wouldn’t be the last: It was going to be a long season.
