Because I’m me. And I know what I’m doing.
Griffin squints at the screen and then murmurs, “So…does he want us tighter? Or looser?”
“Your mom likes it tighter, Ollenberg,” Bodhi whispers teasingly. I cover my mouth to hide my snort as Griffin flips him the bird while Barrett straight up belly laughs, interrupting Coach’s presentation.
“Something funny back there, gentlemen?”
Bodhi shakes his head with a surprisingly straight face. “No, sir. We were just uh, teasing Meers about his gap control.”
“Yeah, well…let’s think about this for next time,” Coach continues, flipping to the next slide. “Better gap control means keeping the opposing players on their toes.” He points to everyone. “And that goes for all of you.”
“Especially Bear, right, Coach?” Bodhi gives his future father-in-law a knowing wink. “You know, gap control is pretty fucking important when you’re guarding the net.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bear mumbles. “If we could wrap this up before I fossilize in this chair, that’d be great.”
Coach ignores everyone’s comments and rewinds the clip one more time.
For the love of fucking Christ.
“You all can laugh about it now, but I don’t see you out there winning playoffs. And this”—he says, pointing to the video clip for the hundredth time—“this is the detail that wins playoff games.”
Not all team meetings are like this. Sometimes we have a shit ton to talk about, but this one?
Yeah, this meeting is fucking dragging.
Ledger keeps shifting in his seat like he’s about to vibrate straight through the chair. Barrett is literally twiddling his thumbs, Griffin is tracing the stars on his latest pair of pajama pants, and I’m only half-listening, pen tapping against my notebook, when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I shouldn’t look but I do anyway and when I see a text from Connor, my heart drops in my chest. I know I told him he could text me whenever he wants, but he’s never actually done it.
Until now.
Connor
Hey. Um, so my mom is throwing up. She was sick when she got up this morning and she just threw up again. Do you think I should call my friends and cancel my birthday party?
My chest tightens so fast it feels like someone reached in and squeezed my insides. I’m on my feet before I fully realize what I’m doing.
Coach glances up. “Meers?”
“Sorry,” I say quickly, already backing toward the door and pointing at my phone. “Uh, family emergency.”
He nods immediately. No questions. No attitude. Just understanding.
Thank God.
The hallway outside the meeting room feels too quiet as my thumbs move swiftly across my screen.
Me
Hey buddy. Is she okay right now?
Three dots pop up almost instantly.
Connor
She says she is, but she threw up a few times. I took her some ginger ale like she does for me. But the decorations are still on the table and my friends are supposed to be here in an hour. I’m not sure what to do.
Fuck.
