By the time the buzzer sounds for the end of the second period, there’s a pit in my stomach. I’ve spent far more time staring into the crowd than I should have. I get that, I acknowledge that. But I haven’t seen Torin once. Not a single time. Not even a glimpse of him anywhere.
As soon as we get into the locker room, I take the hall to his office. The door is shut, which it usually is. I pause outside it and don’t see the light on under the door. I try to tell myself that you don’t always see lights under doors. Sometimes there’s a good transition and that light is blocked. I can’t remember for certain whether I typically see his light under his door or not.
Chewing the inside of my lip, I knock and then push it open. The lights are off, as I suspected. Flicking them on, I count three Surry the Seal heads on the top shelf. Torin’s bag isn’t here. All of today’s planned giveaways are still lined up on the table. The office looks like no one has been in here at all today.
A sour feeling fills my chest as I back out of his office. Is something wrong? Or am I just projecting that something’s wrong because I haven’t seen him yet? Maybe he has a new costume. That’s why the three heads are still where they usually are when he’s not wearing them.
Needing reassurance, I head for Coach’s office. The door is ajar. I knock and it swings open a little more.
Coach is leaning against his desk. Our assistant coach is with him. “Sorry,” I say when they look up. “Have you seen Torin—Surry the Seal?”
“He didn’t show up for work,” Coach Avondale tells me and I suck in a breath. “No call, no show.”
Chills break out over my body as dread fills me. What does this mean?
“Take a breath, Hugo,” Coach Ajo instructs. “Why don’t you give him a call?”
I nod and back out of his office without a word. I don’t see or hear anything as I head for my cubby. It’s as if the locker room is empty. The edges of my vision are dark as I pick up my phone. My hand shakes.
It takes me a minute to get to Torin’s number and dial. It goes straight to voicemail.
Pulling the phone away, I stare at the screen that’s blinking ‘call ended.’ Why would it do that? I dial again. Same outcome. Three more attempts and all calls go straight to voicemail.
A hand on my shoulder makes me jump and I try to focus on the face next to me. “What’s wrong, Hugo?”
“Torin isn’t here,” I mutter. “He didn’t show up for work.” Tears are stinging my eyes now, blurring my vision. “He didn’t even call out. His phone is going right to voicemail.”
“Take a breath,” he says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
“I-I don’t know what to do. How do I get a hold of him?”
“I know this is going to be hard to hear, but you need to give him some time to get in touch with you. Unless you have someone else’s number that can check on him.”
I don’t so I shake my head.
“Right now, there isn’t much choice. Just hang in there. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
No. There’s absolutely no way. Throughout the intermission, I repeatedly call Torin’s number, hoping for a different outcome than reaching his voicemail. It doesn’t change. Then I have no choice but to put my phone away and finish the game.
“Any word?” Coach asks as I make my way to the chute witheveryone else. I shake my head and Coach frowns. “I’ll see if I can get someone to find something out. Okay?”
Relief floods me. “Thank you.”
“I’ll meet you out there. Go warm up.”
I don’t see much of the last period. By the end of the buzzer, I’m jerked out of my thoughts and stare up at the clock. We’ve won, 6-3. Thank fuck. I know I was no help today. None at all. In fact, I was probably a hindrance more than anything.
No Surry the Seal. No Torin. He’s just not here. As soon as we’re in the locker room, I rush to my cubby and pick up my phone. Nothing. For good measure, I dial his number again but there’s no change. Right to voicemail.
For a minute, I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. He’s fine. Torin is fine. This is all fine. There’s… a misunderstanding. Or something. I’m just going to drive to his house and I’ll find that he… fell asleep. And his phone fell into the fish tank. Or maybe he’s locked out of his car with his phone inside and the battery died.
It’s all fine.
Numbly, I strip quickly and head for the shower. Everything is fucking fine! I feel sick for no reason at all!
Chapter Thirty-Three
