“You’re only one man down,” I pointed out, waving at Carol and Michael.
“And we’re a package deal,” Evan said, throwing an arm around me. “You don’t get one without the other.”
“Ev,” I said quietly, patting his hand. “Take a breath, babe.” Because I wasn’t going to let him turn down what I thought Channing was about to offer him on account of me.
“Don’t panic,” Alan said, calm as ever. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” He turned to peer at me. “You know your stats were almost as high as his, I’m sure.”
They were. But he didn’t need me to tell him that, clearly. I stared back at him.
“For fuck sakes, Al.” Carol Renard stepped up beside him. “We want you both. To join our team, évidemment oui?”
“Oui?” Evan asked with a slight squeak. “Is that a thing? You can replace two players?”
“If we do it now, make it official, and win a lot of shit between now and the Trials, yes. We can,” Alan assured us. “But the wire is literally a few days away for you to be registered as part of our team for qualifying as a Wild Card.”
“What about you?” I asked, looking past Alan to Michael. “It’s your spot he’s giving away.”
“I’m just their alternate.”
“But you could step up.”
He shook his head. “I’m not physically up for that. Just playing the two games this weekend made me sure of something I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. My back won’t take the kind of schedule required. I’m stepping down to coach. So I’ll still be part of the team, just not a player.”
“So it would be Alan skipping,” Carol said, “Perry, you as Vice, Evan, you’d keep your second slot, and I would be First.”
“Why would you give up your Vice spot?”
“The only reason I was Vice was because neither of the twins had the temperament for it. We were already an unbalanced team. This is going to be a perfect fit.”
“You hope.”
“Of course we hope.” He smiled. “It’s a lot to throw at you, I know. And we wouldn’t have chased you down to your parking lot if time wasn’t of the essence.”
“What about the alternate?” Evan asked.
“Well, we were hoping to speak with your Vice, Robbie, about that.”
“You want three new players? The Association will never go for that.”
“Right now many of the teams are shuffling. We won’t be the only ones this close to the deadline to announce our lineup, and we won’t be the only ones with this big a change.”
“If we say no, you’re screwed,” I pointed out.
Alan studied me. “If you say no, we wait four more years.”
I glanced over his shoulder to Carol and Michael. “You guys are awfully calm. Isn’t this a huge gamble?”
Michael shrugged. “We were”—he made air quotes—“encouraged to take the twins on.”
“By who, doesn’t matter,” Alan said, a warning tone in his voice.
“Suppose not,” Michael agreed. “But when that happened, Alan predicted they would crash and burn before the qualifiers even got started. He was right.”
“It was pretty close,” I said.
“The point is, he was right. He picked our trainer, who got me off a walker after my accident and back onto the ice, and a coach who managed the twins as well as anyone could have. If he wants to pick the new team members, I’m willing to go with his recommendation because he hasn’t been wrong yet.”
“What if it’s personal?” Evan asked.
