“Wonderful, thanks,” Olive answered for them.
“Anything to drink?” the waiter asked, after they poured water into the two glasses already on the table.
“Yes, maybe a bottle of wine for the table?” Olive looked toCharlie as she asked, and the waiter followed Olive’s gaze. Charlie nodded.
“Great, white or red?”
“Red, please.”
The waiter nodded and left as quietly as they had appeared. Charlie took a sip of her water and tried to centre her thoughts.
“So, how does it feel to win another game? Are you tired of all those victory laps?” Olive asked playfully.
“Same as always, and no, I will never get tired of those victory laps,” Charlie responded, in a slightly better mood.
“What do you think will happen next? Sorry, I have no clue how all this works, I’m just following along for the hot players.”
“The hot players appreciate your support. And basically, as long as we keep winning, we’ll go to the finals.”
“Who do you think you’ll be playing against then?”
Charlie hummed, both delighted by the question and thoughtful.
“Well, it’s always hard to predict, but the last few big games usually come down to Team USA vs. Team Canada. It’s kind of a toss-up then, but I like to think that Team Canada will definitely win. It doesn’t help that a lot of the players on both teams are very familiar with each other’s play styles, since there’s usually a bit of crossover on professional leagues, including in the PWHL.”
Olive nodded. “And that’s where you play normally, right?”
“Yes, and on Team Canada internationally when needed.”
“Cool.” Olive said it in a way that made Charlie believe that it was actually cool, which she had not felt in a while. It was an interesting reminder that while many of the people in Charlie’s circle thought hockey was a normal, everyday part of life, there was a whole world out there who didn’t even know about it.
“I think we’ll win, no matter which country it’s against,” Charlie said.
The conversation was interrupted by the waiter reappearing tointroduce the wine and pour a glass for each of them. The waiter soon left, and Olive held up her glass.
“Well, cheers to another winning game,” she said.
Charlie clinked their glass with hers. “And to many more.”
Not normally a wine drinker, Charlie had no clue what to make of the taste, but at least it went down smoothly, and did not feel as horrible as she often thought wine did.
“Really, the only thing that matters this season is winning against Blake. Everything else is just the cherry on top,” Charlie said. It was a half-truth. Sheneededto win the season to prove her father wrong, but winning against Blake was a more primary goal. They could use a blow to the ego every now and again.
“Blake, your teammate?” Olive asked.
Charlie nodded.
“You seem really close, at least from the footage and videos I’ve seen.”
“We are,” Charlie said. They wanted to tease Olive for clearly doing her research, but the hockey player decided to keep it classy, for now. “In case you can’t tell, I’m pretty reserved. It’s always been hard to make friends on my teams, I take the game a little too seriously for most people. When Blake joined the Toronto Succubi, they basically annoyed me into being their friend, and they haven’t stopped.”
“That’s so cute.” Olive was looking at Charlie now as if she were a lost puppy, a look she had seen many times on Blake’s face.
“Blake would agree with you,” Charlie said, and shook her head. “Don’t tell them this, but they taught me a lot about life, and just not taking everything too seriously. I mean, I still am basically a robot, but it’s less intense these days… though I think you’re partially to blame for that.”
“I’ll take the credit, but I don’t think it’s all owed to me,” Olive said.
Charlie smiled, unsure of what else to say that wouldn’t be toocheesy. She opened the food menu and quickly glanced at the options.
