I didn’t say a word as I went to my locker stall and started taking off my own gear. I didn’t blame them—I’d have been a mess, too—I just felt helpless. There was nothing I could do to make this better for anyone, and I hated that.
On the ice, Erlandsson’s jersey retirement had seemed to pull together all the players who’d known him. Afterward, though, when Avery broke down, it seemed to give a lot of people the permission they needed to grieve out loud too. Now everyone was just quiet and wrung out, going through the motions like all they wanted to do was collapse on the floor and sleep.
It was a tough night, that was for sure.
I had no doubt it was hell for them, but for those of us at the edges—those of us who hadn’t known Erlandsson and were still finding our place on the team—it meant more distance between us and our teammates. As Baddy and Eminem had comforted Avery, some of the other guys had choked up, and they’d leaned hard on each other. Us new guys, we did the best we could, offering support, but… what the hell were we even supposed to say? What were we supposed to do? Grieving was a complicated mess to begin with, and so was comforting someone who was grieving.
The stall next to mine was Eminem’s, and he came backfrom the showers as I was getting down to my base layer. His eyes were a little red, too.
“Hey, man.” He clapped my shoulder. “Thanks for stepping up.” He nodded sharply toward the door to the hallway. “Handling the reporters.” Looking past me, he added, “You too, Laramie.”
“Don’t mention it.” I glanced around the room. “How is, um…?”
“Calds?” Eminem pressed his lips together. “It’s a rough night for him. We all knew it would be.” He exhaled hard. “He didn’t need the press in his face. None of us did.”
“Figured as much. But he’s—I mean, I don’t imagine he’s good. But… better than earlier?”
“Maybe?” My teammate shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know how he got through the ceremony and the game in the first place, to tell you the truth. He’s a lot tougher than I am, that’s for sure.”
“No kidding.” Baddy appeared beside us. “Last thing he needs right now is the reporters all up in his business.”
I swallowed, nodding silently. I was relieved to know I’d been able to helpsomehow. It didn’t seem like enough, but it was something.
I glanced back and forth between Baddy and Eminem. “Listen, I didn’t know him, okay? Erlandsson? But I know it’s been tough on all of you. Anything I can do”—I gestured at Laramie—“anythingwecan do to take some of that off you guys, just say so.”
Eminem smiled and clapped my shoulder. “You’re good people, Halls. Now get your ass in the shower because you don’tsmelllike good people.”
That, thank God, broke through the tension, and I laughed. “Oh, come on!” I stepped toward him, arms outstretched. “Just gimme a hug!”
“Ack! No!” He ducked out of the way. “I will mace you with Febreeze! I swear to God!”
“Just one hug!”
“Screw you, Halls!”
There was some quiet laughter through the rest of the room. As I left for the showers, it had mostly died down, but at least the somber atmosphere had cracked.
It wasn’t much.
But I was happy to help lift the mood a little bit.
CHAPTER 7
AVERY
Baddy
Hey, man – you good?
Eminem
Check in and let us know if you’re okay.
Davis
You want a lift to practice?
I exhaled into the silence of my bedroom. My face burned with embarrassment as I read message after message from my teammates. I’d justhadto let them see me fall apart, hadn’t I? Right there in the locker room, in front of God and everyone, after my first game as their captain… I’d lost it.
