“No, that can never happen.” I’m in full agreement as I blink back at him with nothing but pure pride for that kid. “You’ll never have to call him that.”
Shaking his head, he pushes his chair back from the table and stands, adding, “Let’s not talk about this again.”
thirty-two
Bill
With my heart pounding in my throat, I push open the locker door, rehearsing over and over in my head what I want to say:
First game of the season, and yeah, we lost.
Morale is everything.
We can only go up from here.
I’m proud of every one of you.
I’m ready to go full motivation-speaker mode. Someone has to get these guys pumped up for the next one. We aren’t going to win games and become the best in the league unless we get fanatical about this team. “Morning, guys,” I greet them with a boisterous smile as they sprawl out over the four benches in the locker room. “We made it through our first game—”
Snickering…
I stop talking.
Tipping my ear toward the side, my eyes narrow on Axl.
He’s talking over me to Noah, while Noah’s cheeks burn brightly.
How rude?
I clear my throat, hoping to get their attention, and speak louder, “All right, fellas, let’s not dwell on the last game, we need to focus—”
Axl whispers loud enough so I can hear it, “You mean like the way you were focusing on Noah’s mom?”
The room erupts in laughter.
“Okay. Fine.” I raise my hands like I’m under arrest, but I’m half amused at their chirps. “Let’s address the gossip in the room.” I spread my hands like I’m inviting them into the conversation, because I don’t see any way around it at this point. “Yes, I’m dating someone. Yes, she happens to be related to one of you. And no, it’s none of your business.”
“Pretty sure it’s all of our business when you were sucking face in front of us last night,” Axl chirps.
I narrow my eyes at him, as he’s quickly getting attention for not knowing when to shut his mouth. “Players who chirp their boss aren’t rewarded.”
The guys howl, creating a little gossip circle centered on Axl.
What is this, junior high?
Apparently, they just want to gossip.
I could yell at them to focus, but something inside tells me to play into it. A bubble of laughter forms in my gut, and I risk stooping to their level, as I say, “Look. All I’m saying is, if I play my cards right, this team might get free hot chocolate for life. So maybe a little gratitude is in order?”
I guess that’s all they need, because they whoop like we just won the Cup. Axl leads the guys in a chant: “Hot! Choc-o-late! Hot! Choc-o-late!” until the entire locker room, except Noah, joins in.
I look over to Coach Carlson, who’s been standing quietly in the corner this whole time, not mousing a word. He raises an eyebrow. I shake my head and point to the door. “Forget the pep talk today. You guys need to get your butts on the ice.”
Laughter explodes as they scurry out.
All except one player leaves, that is.
Noah lingers on the far bench, tying his skates extra slowly, like he’s planning to warm this bench all day. There’s no way I will deny what is happening with Ruth. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I see no point in delaying the conversation that needs to be had. I take a deep breath and wander over, stopping on the other side of the bench. “So.”
