“I appreciate you checking in on me.”
“Precious is excited to spend time with you this week.”
“Oh, I bet. She’s going to get so many treats.”
“So you’re the reason she’s gaining weight,” he teases.
“Maybe…”
“I’ll miss you both. You’ll be at my place when I get home?” He asks, slight hesitation in his voice.
“Is that what you want?”
“It is.”
“Then yes, I will,” I confirm.
“One more thing I wanted your opinion on.” He sounds unsure of himself in this moment.
“Hit me with it.”
“I was thinking about reaching out to my parents, inviting them to a game, or we could have dinner with them, maybe? They texted me over the holidays and I realized that maybe I should try. Not should, but that I want to.” While I’m surprised that he’s bringing this up, I’m not. I could see the internal battle he’s been facing about not having his parents present in his life.
“If that’s what you want, I support that entirely. I’ll be there for you in whatever capacity you need.”
“Thank you. I should probably get to sleep, early flight. Goodnight, Peppermint.”
“Goodnight, Freckles.”
Chapter 17
What A Game
Collins
“It’s the beginning of the season. Now is the time to show everyone that the Rays are back and better than ever. Keep your head in the game, don’t start any fights, and score some motherfucking goals.” Nik shouts at us as we wait to skate out of the tunnel onto the Los Angeles Badgers’ home ice. Hoots and hollers echo around the chamber before the music begins to boom, and Nik leads us onto the ice hopefully to our first victory of the season.
The energy from the boos, the cheers, and my team fueling me to make sure I help Maverick maintain ownership of the puck throughout the game as I skate out behind my teammates.
As we take our position on the ice, Mav looks toward Conrad, then myself to which Conrad sticks his tongue out, signaling Mav to move right. We learned last season that hand signals give us away, so collectively each line created signals telling us where to move. Conrad spends a lot of time studying our opposing team’s moves and eighty percent of the time he knows which direction they’ll move first if they get possession of the puck. Hopefully putting us at an advantage from the get-go.
The referee starts the face-off off and then it’s off to the races. Hart and the Badgers center fight for possession before Hart fakes them out, sending everyone in my direction while the puck flies toward Hoyer. The Badgers head toward me, giving Hart and Hoyer an opportunity to gain some ground before they realize I don’t have the puck. Montez hoots, and someone else cusses before I move into possession to protect Hart and the puck. Rogers isn’t quick enough, though, because Hoyer passes the puck to Hart, and he sends it flying past the goalie’s shoulder and into the net.
The rest of the game continues like this, fighting for the puck, fake outs, and close goals by both teams.
“What a game,” Dom shouts as he sets a tray of beers and a water for me down at our table in the hole-in-the-wall bar we found to celebrate our win. All of us wanted to avoid the bars that would be swarming with Badgers and fans, except Dom who wanted to and I quote “get down”.
“It was close, I’m exhausted.” Mav sighs. I can’t blame him, my quads are sore from chasing him down the ice, and I know for a fact he was moving faster and more than I was.
“Cheers to that.” I chime in, clinking my water cup to his pint.
“I was on the edge of my seat the whole time,” Tatum adds, he doesn’t always travel with us for games, but since it’s the beginning of the season and our first away stretch, he wanted to be present.
“You three pulled through for us.” Conrad adds gesturing toward myself, Dom, and Mav.
“And I’ll cheers to that.” Nik hoots, raising his glass and drawing the attention of the other patrons in the bar.
“Alright, someone spill what’s happening in everyone’s lives.” Dom suggests after everyone has gone back to minding their own business, “I feel like we haven’t had dude talk since before the holidays, and I need to know what’s going on!”
