Chapter 302

TIMOTHY POV

The sharp ring of his cellphone shattered the peace of Timothy's evening. Glancing at the caller ID, he frowned at the name that flashed on the screen - Mr. Porter, the new hockey club leader. Wondering what could prompt an urgent call, Timothy answered and found himself summoned to the sports center.

As he walked through the familiar corridors of the center, anxiety knotted in his stomach. His footsteps echoed off the cold walls, creating an unsettling rhythm that mirrored his racing thoughts. He arrived at Mr. Porter's office, the door slightly ajar. Hesitating for a moment, Timothy knocked and pushed the door open.

Mr. Porter sat behind a cluttered desk, his expression grave. He motioned for Timothy to take a seat, his eyes avoiding direct contact. Timothy furrowed his brow, the atmosphere thick with tension.

"What's wrong?" Timothy asked, his voice laced with concern. He couldn't shake the feeling that yet another complaint had been made about him being at the club, despite the temporary suspension.

Mr. Porter sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Timothy, we've got a situation. I need you to clear your locker."

Timothy's eyes widened, disbelief twisting his features. "Clear my locker? What for?"

Mr. Porter hesitated before finally meeting Timothy's gaze. "We've got a new player joining, and we need space. It's temporary, just until things settle down."

Confusion gripped Timothy as he processed the information. "New player? Who needs my locker?"

Mr. Porter's gaze flickered, and he muttered, "Alex Richards."

A surge of frustration and anger bubbled within Timothy. Alex Richards. The tension between them had always been there, but Timothy never expected it to reach such a point.

"Alex Richards?" Timothy scoffed. "You want me to clear my locker for him? You've got to be kidding me."

Mr. Porter sighed, his tone stern. "Timothy, it's for the team. We need everyone to cooperate during this time."

Timothy leaned forward, his frustration evident. "Cooperate? Do you seriously believe I would jeopardize the team? Why does Alex get preferential treatment?"

Mr. Porter shifted uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding Timothy's accusing gaze. "Look, Timothy, I know you’re going through some legal issues at the moment, so you can’t exactly utilize that locker. It's temporary, and we need to ensure the team's stability. This decision is in the best interest of everyone."

Timothy's jaw clenched as he processed the information. The implication hung heavily in the air – that Timothy was expendable, that suspicions lingered around him. Anger welled up, a fiery ball in his chest.

"Legal issues? And you automatically assume I'm guilty?" Timothy snapped, his frustration boiling over. "This is outrageous. I deserve an explanation. Do you think I committed the crime?"

Mr. Porter sighed again, a weariness in his eyes. "Timothy, don't make this difficult. We're trying to handle the situation delicately. It's not about assuming guilt.

Timothy clenched his fists, struggling to contain his anger. "Difficult? You're asking me to step aside without any proof, and you call that not making things difficult? I thought you believed in innocent until proven guilty."

Mr. Porter's expression hardened. "This is not a court of law, Timothy. We have a team to consider, and we can't afford the public outcry. Ticket sales are plummeting as we speak because people still thinking you’re allowed to play."

The room felt stifling, the air thick with tension. Timothy's mind raced, grappling with the injustice of the situation. "I've given my all to this team, and now you're asking me to step aside like some criminal. What about loyalty? What about trust?"

Mr. Porter's voice remained firm. "This is a temporary measure, Timothy. Once the case is resolved, we can reassess the situation. For now, it's about the team's well-being."

Anger burned in Timothy's eyes as he stood up abruptly. "Well-being...I could get locked away for years for something I didn’t do, but all you people care about are sports."

Mr. Porter's face tightened. "Just cooperate, alright? Let’s make this a smooth transition for now, and if you’re released of all charges, you can come right back."

The dismissive response only fueled Timothy's anger. His knee started to bounce, the nerves getting to him. "Smooth transition? This is my reputation on the line. You’re making me look guiltier than ever by going by what these people want."

Mr. Porter looked up, his gaze meeting Timothy's defiant eyes. "I understand you're upset, but we need you to think about the team. We're not accusing you, but we can't afford distractions right now."

Distractions. The word hung in the air like an insult. Timothy stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Fine. He can’t have my locker, but that’s all you’re getting out of me."

Aggravated, Timothy stormed out of Mr. Porter's office, his mind a storm of emotions. He needed space to process all of it. He kept his eyes forward as he headed towards the locker room, desperate to maintain some semblance of dignity as his teammates looked on in curiosity.

As he approached the locker room door, a figure loomed in his path. Alex Richards, smug as ever, leaned casually against the wall. Timothy gritted his teeth, determined to keep his cool despite having other urges.

"What's wrong, Timothy?" Alex's tone dripped with a smugness that only fueled Timothy's anger. "Having a bad day?"

Timothy resisted the urge to snap back. Instead, he clenched his fists and replied, "I'll be taking my leave, Alex. I’ll also be cleaning out that locker you wanted so badly."

Alex chuckled, the smugness intensifying. "Leaving so soon? Couldn't handle the pressure? It's a shame we didn't get to compete at our last game. I was looking forward to proving who the better player is."

Timothy's jaw tightened. He could sense the taunt in Alex's words, a deliberate attempt to provoke him. Despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface, he forced a tight-lipped smile. "You underestimate my team a little too easily, but good luck out there, Alex. You'll need it."

Turning on his heel, Timothy walked away, leaving Alex's laughter echoing in the corridor. The encounter had done nothing to alleviate Timothy's frustration; if anything, it fueled the fire burning within him.

Entering the empty locker room, Timothy began the somber task of clearing his locker. The metallic clinks of hangers and the hollow echo of items hitting the bench filled the silence. At that point, he just wanted to go home and crawl into bed with Evie in his arms, just wishing it could all just go away.

The door creaked open, and Timothy glanced up to see Aria appearing around the corner. She looked apologetic, realizing she had walked in at an inopportune moment.

"Sorry, Timothy," Aria said, her voice soft. "I didn't mean to barge in."

Timothy sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders at the presence of someone pleasant. "It's fine, Aria. What's up?"

Aria hesitated, her gaze flickering. "It's about Evie."

Timothy's brow furrowed. Evie, another teammate, was someone he considered a friend. Concern gnawed at him. "What happened? Is she okay?"

Aria took a deep breath. "I’m thinking she’s getting involved in something dangerous."

Worry etched Timothy's features as he stood up and walked over to Aria. "Where is she?"

Aria shook her head, her eyes dull as she looked anywhere but at him. "I don't have all the details, but it's serious. She came home bleeding from her head last night."

The image of Evie, harmed and possibly traumatized once more, added another layer to Timothy's turbulent emotions. His fists began to shake, and he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He’d known this would happen, even as she insisted she could handle it all.

"Thanks for letting me know, Aria. I'll go talk to her," Timothy said, and he moved with more urgency as he gathered his things.

He wasn’t sure how to approach Evie, especially after she’d nearly cried the last time. But he had to make her understand. She couldn’t sacrifice herself for him.

He wouldn’t allow it.