Page 109 of Puck Fest
I should say no. Should tell him I don’t need his help, that I can find my own job.
But the rejection emails speak for themselves.
“Yeah. I’m definitely interested.”
“Good. I’ll text you the address. And Noah?”
“Yeah?”
“Sam’s a good guy. Be honest with him. Don’t try to spin what happened. Just tell him the truth.”
“Okay.”
“And maybe... maybe this is a chance to do something different. Something that isn’t about protecting an organization’s image but actually helping people.”
I’m quiet for a moment. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Just show up and see what happens.”
He hangs up.
I stare at my phone, at the rejection emails, at the mess my career has become.
Maybe my father’s right. Maybe this is a chance to do something different.
Or maybe it’s just another dead end.
On Thursday afternoon, I drive to Play It Forward’s headquarters. It’s in a renovated warehouse in Oakland, with huge windows and a brightly painted exterior.
Inside, kids are everywhere. There’s a clinic in progress in the main hockey rink. Ten-year-olds are running skating drills as coaches give them pointers. Parents fill the stands, watching and cheering.
It’s chaos. But a good kind of chaos.
A woman at the front desk directs me to Sam’s office. I knock once I get there.
“Come in,” he calls out.
Sam stands up from his desk, towering over me. He’s pretty massive but the smile on his face is nothing but welcoming.
“Noah Enver.” He shakes my hand. “Good to meet you. Your dad spoke highly of you.”
“Even after everything?” I say with a half-smile.
“Especially after everything.” He gestures to a chair. “Sit. Would you like some coffee? Or water?”
“I’m good.”
We sit. Sam leans back and studies me.
“So. Your dad gave me the overview. But I’d like to hear it from you. What happened?”
I take a breath.
Then I tell him. All of it.
The probation supervision. The feelings that developed. The decision to keep it secret. The kiss during probation that we both knew was wrong. The relationship afterward. The videos. The statement. The resignation.
The whole fucking story.
