Maybe I needed some outside advice. Fortunately, for all I still felt isolated and alone on this new team, I did have people I could reach out to elsewhere. I pulled up the League app and checked where Vancouver was playingright now. Fortunately, they were at home, which meant it was early yet, but knowing him, he was awake. If I was lucky, I’d catch him before he left for practice.
Hey, do you have a few minutes to FaceTime?
The response, thank God, came through quickly in the form of a FaceTime request. I accepted, and the face of my ex-boyfriend, Dan, appeared on the screen. His hair was wet and spiky like he’d just taken a shower, and he had on a hoodie. Judging by the background, he was in his kitchen.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Just…” I chewed my lip. “There’s some shit going on here—on my new team—and I don’t know who else to talk to.”
Concern pinched his brow. “Yeah? What’s up? I thought you were liking it there.”
“I am. The team, the city—it’s all great.” I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “But there’s—I mean, you heard what happened, right? During the off season?”
Dan exhaled. “I definitely heard. I can’t imagine playing through that.”
I nodded. “It’s been hard on all of them. How they’ve made it this far…” I trailed off, shaking my head.
“I bet. So why the SOS, though? I’m guessing there’s something more going on?”
“Yeah. There is.” I gave him a brief rundown, trying to tread carefully and avoid crossing the line between filling him in and gossiping. I trusted Dan, though; he was a steel trap, and even two years after we’d split up, he was still my closest confidante. There was no one else I could talk to about this so candidly without worrying it would turn into rumor fodder or something.
After I told him about what happened last night, Dan blew out a breath. “Shit. Yeah, that doesn’t sound good.”
“No, it’s not. And like, I don’t think it’s… I mean, this isn’t a locker room cancer situation like what happened with you and Miceli.”
Dan made a face, probably at the reminder of that toxic asshole who’d plagued his old team for three long seasons. “Definitely not. Sounds like Caldwell is a good guy and a good player. He’s just fucked up after losing his friend. Shit, I don’t know if I’d even be able to play through that. Trying to be captain on top of it?” He whistled and shook his head. “No way.”
“Right? Same.” I kneaded the back of my neck. “But what do I do? All of us who didn’t know Erlandsson are trying to carry the team as best we can. Keeping morale up, playing hard—all that shit. But off the ice… I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m not sure there’s much youcando, baby,” he said softly. “I know you—you want to help people. You want to fix things. That’s not a bad thing, you know?” He grimaced apologetically. “But I’m not so sure this is your problem to fix.”
“What about the shit between me and him?” I protested. “Half the team saw that all go down last night, and…” My shoulders slumped. “Am I supposed to just hope they forget about it?”
“I mean, kind of? Teammates clash sometimes. It happens. If it was just a one-time thing, then it might be a little awkward for a while until everyone accepts that it’s not going to happen again. Then things will go back to normal, you know? Or, well, whatever qualifies as normal on a team that’s going through what they are.”
I deflated, leaning back against the headboard. “Ijust feel like I should do… I don’t know. Something? Just quietly letting it fade away doesn’t seem like the right thing.”
Dan smiled fondly. “Of course it doesn’t. That’s not you. But the best thing in this situation might be to leave well enough alone.” He paused. “Unless it really seems to be festering and causing issues, I’d follow your teammates’ leads. Caldwell’s, but also the rest of the guys, you know? If last night seems like water under the bridge for them, then let it go.”
He was right. I knew that. We’d had conversations like this before when I’d been freaking out that something had permanently disrupted a team dynamic. Dan was always confident that it would work itself out, and it usually did.
I swallowed. “What about what happened with Caldwell before? With him being drunk, and…” I chewed my lip. “I don’t know. It seems…”
“Bigger than it probably is?”
The heat in my face was undoubtedly visible on the screen, and I gave a little self-deprecating chuckle. “Yeah. Probably. Maybe I’m reading more into it than there was.”
And why was that thought disappointing? The last thing I wanted was someone throwing themselves at me when they were drunk. But Avery Caldwell kissing me, drunk or not, had ignited some hope I had no business having. Was there an attraction there? Or had he just been so shitfaced he’d have moved in on anyone?
“Whatever you’re thinking,” my ex said softly, “you’re probably overthinking it.”
Sighing again, I nodded. “Probably. Yeah. But what else is new?”
He chuckled, though he sounded more fond than anything. Sobering a little, he said, “Right now, like I told you, I’d just leave it alone and follow your team’s lead. Ifthey seem like they’re letting it go, let it go. And Calds? If it was a drunken mistake, he’s probably hoping you’ll forget it.”
“True.” Again with that weird disappointment. “Okay. So. I’m overthinking things, and I need to follow everyone else’s lead. I can do that.”
“I know you can. And being this worried about it—that’s not a bad thing, you know. You care about people. Especially teammates.” Dan smiled as he half-shrugged. “Even if you can’t solve everything for everyone, the fact that you care this much is good, you know?”
