A crease forms between her brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
A heavy sigh slips out. Hoping to soften the news, I hand her the iced coffee. “Laur, your house has been forked.”
Confusion still lingers on her face. “What do you mean forked?”
Running my hand through my hair, I elaborate, "Someone put plastic forks in it and broke off the handles so they are hard to get out. It’s just a stupid prank. It doesn’t harm the lawn.”
Her eyes widen, and she puts her head in her hands, “This is the second time this week someone’s done something to our house.”
Waiting on her to explain, I take her coffee off the counter and take a sip.
“We got egged,” she mumbles into her hands, her voice hushed.
“Seriously?” My jaw tightens with frustration. Why didn’t she tell me when it happened? And who the hell would egg her house.
As if reading my mind, she adds, “We don’t know who it was and cleaned it up right away.”
“If something else happens, you should call the police,” I suggest.
Laur looks up at me, taking the coffee straight from my hand, “That’s not something I feel like dealing with.” She takes a long sip of coffee. “I have enough on my plate. The new girls will be here tomorrow.”
“Just tell me if anything else happens at least?” I pull her into a hug, hoping to ease her tension despite my anxiety probably being twenty times worse than hers. Today might be the first day in a long time that I don’t want to go to practice.
Her head nods against my chest.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she mumbles into my chest.
“I’ve got to get to practice.” I kiss her forehead before pulling away. “Some of the guys and I can help clean up the forks later tonight.”
“Hey.” She grabs my hand to stop me from leaving. “At the end of the day, Coach Andres made the decision, not you.” She places her hands on either side of my face. “The team votes also backed up Blaine, don’t be so stressed.”
“You got this, Captain.” She smiles at me, before planting a soft kiss on my lips and letting go of my face. “Try to enjoy practice.”
Like always, she’s right. On the plus side, I don’t have to make the announcement myself; Coach will do it.
When I’m about a few blocks away from the arena, I veer off into a side street to find a bench or quiet place to try to meditate and clear my mind. Our house was rowdy this morning and I couldn’t concentrate with the noise of the boys chirping at each other.
Finally finding a bench, I sit down, closing my eyes lightly, breathing in deeply and letting out a massive sigh full of my anxiety. Thumbing through my phone, I find my free mediation app and press play. Calming chimes and a peaceful voice take over the music in my headphones.
Closing my eyes again, I try to focus only on the guide’s soothing voice and let the world melt away.
Someone rapidly taps on my shoulder. My eyes open to Tyler’s narrowed gaze and knitted brow starting down at me. Fucking great. The last person I want to see right now. Is he going to avoid me at all costs once he finds out he isn’t alternate captain?
“Dude, what are you doing?” Tyler asks.
Flustered, I mutter something about a voicemail, abruptly getting up.
“I’ll deal with it later,” I mumble and walk off towards the arena.
Tyler quickly catches up to me, but I keep my headphones in. We silently walk side by side to the arena. Guess I won’t get in my meditation before practice, and I really needed it today more than I have in a while.
The locker room buzzes with conversation when we enter.
“Donato, could have used your pressure on the ice before practice,” Mitchell calls to me. “Mind if we grab some time next week?”
Since my stomach has been doing flips since Coach solidified his decision and knowing he would announce captains today, I didn’t come to practice early for once.
“Sure thing, Mitchell,” I reply with a curt nod, ready for practice to be over before it even started.
