“Um…”
Both of our phones ding with texts at the same time.
She pulls hers from her back pocket, so I slide mine out as well.
“It’s my sister,” I say.
Nora nods. “Me too.” She looks up. “Your sister, I mean.”
“She wants to see me,” I say. “Right now.”
“Me too.”
“So are you going to tell me why there’s a straw poll going on in your grandpa’s coffee shop-slash-bar in which I’m losing to Brussels sprouts?” I ask.
She sighs. “It’s not just Leo, and Wilson, and Brewser who are upset with you.”
“No?”
“No. The whole town, well…hates you.”
CHAPTER 5
ALEX
Rebel,Louisiana, hates me.
Awesome.
“They’ll get over it,” Nora says as she drives toward the hockey arena.
“You think so?” I ask.
I don’t like knowing that the town hates me. I’m actually surprised by how much I don’t like that.
“Of course. Once they get to know you.”
Well, that’s nice. Once they know me as a person, they’ll see I’m a good guy.
“Once the team is doing well and they see how good that is for the town, and once they’re having fun watching you play,” she continues.
Right. Once I’m playing hockey. Doing the hockey thing. People will like me as a hockey player. Of course.
But that’s a few weeks away yet. I’m going to have to put up with being second to Brussels sprouts for a fewweeks? Who knows what other vegetables they’ll put ahead of me. Broccoli?Beets?
And right downstairs in the coffee shop I have to walk through to get to and from my apartment.
Wonderful.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nora says as we pull into the circular drive in front of the hockey arena.
It’s nowhere near the size of the Grays’ arena, but it’s clearly new-ish. There’s a lot of glass, big signage, a large parking lot, and an electronic advertising board declaring the arena the home of the Rebel Revelers and Rebel Rascals.
“What’s—” But I see what caught her eye a second later.
There’s a protest going on.
“I swear to God…” Nora mutters. She jams the truck into park and shuts it off. She’s out of the truck and stomping toward the five people holding posterboards that say, “Go Home Alex Olsen”, “Alex Olsen Can Puck Off”, one with a number fourteen—my number with the Grays—circled in red with a line through it, and one that says “No Justice, No Peace” which I assume is a leftover from another protest, and one that I don’t read fast enough. They all scramble to hide the signs behind their backs or stuff them behind the bushes along the sidewalk when they see Nora coming up the sidewalk.
