“It’s time for our team meeting,” she announced, just as my alarm beeped for the same reason.
We were all getting together to go over the schedule and expectations, then we’d eat dinner as a team.The coach was big on bonding, wanting everyone to gel before we got on the ice for our first game against Finland.
“I just need to stop at the restroom,” I said.
“I do as well.”
Yvonne had a strange way of talking, sometimes it was almost robotic.I knew her parents were both Russian immigrants, but she’d been born in the U.S.so I wasn’t sure why she had that careful, almost stilted way of talking.
Not that I was going to ask her.
After a quick trip to take care of our bio needs, we joined a few other players who were making their way to the meeting room.There were twenty-three of us on the team, twenty skaters and three goalies, plus five coaches.We settled in a classroom in the building next door to our dorm and got the usual talk from the coaches about teamwork and good sportsmanship and how our behavior reflected on the team.
We were all dead tired after our trip, but the coaches insisted that we take ‘a little jog around the campus’ before dinner.The little jog turned out to be three miles, but after that, there was no doubt we’d all fall asleep easily tonight.
“This will help your jetlag,” one of the assistant coaches told us as we completed our run.“Just be sure to drink a lot of water.”
“Then we won’t sleep because we’ll have to get up and pee every five minutes,” I joked.
The coach gave me a stern look that made me sober up immediately.
“If Lindstrom is done with her comedy act, let’s go to dinner,” he barked.
Okay, no joking, got it,I thought.
My eyes found Yvonne and I expected to see judgement on her face, instead she sent me a brief look of sympathy before schooling her expression.Most of the coaches we worked with were cool, but there was always that guy who was on a
I caught up with her on the walk over to the dining hall.They were using the university’s cafeteria, but I’d heard that they’d added more capacity to cook a bigger variety of foods.Athletes were nothing if not religious about their diets, and a change could have catastrophic results just when they needed to perform at their best.
I looked longingly at the table full of pasta and followed the coaches to the next section where we got brown rice, roasted chicken, and vegetables, so many vegetables.I was starving though, so I loaded up my tray and sat at a table with Yvonne, her teammate Greta, and five other people from the team.
“I can’t believe we’re in Italy eating brown rice,” Greta said glumly.
“After win, you eat anything you want,” Olga, one of our goalies, said in her heavily accented English.“Now you stay on program.”
I bit my lip to keep from saying anything, instead spearing a stalk of broccoli.It was overcooked, and I winced as I chewed it.
“What’s the matter?”Yvonne asked.
“I hate limp broccoli.”
“Are you going to complain this whole trip?”she asked, taking a long swig of water from her bottle.
Brown nose.
“Only if people keep annoying me,” I said, sending her a big, fake smile that Yvonne met with an icy glare.
Then I sighed.“Sorry, I’m really tired.”
I was usually a glass half full kind of girl, but after traveling for what felt like days, not sleeping on the plane, then running three miles on an empty stomach, I was tired and cranky.I just needed a good night sleep, then I’d be back to my normally cheerful disposition.
“Let’s go back to our room and go to bed early,” Yvonne said.
The phrasing made it sound like a suggestion, but the tone made it sound like an order.Typical Yvonne.Usually I found that annoying, but for some reason tonight I found it hot.I guess I really was tired.
But by the time we’d made the walk back to our room, cleaned up and got ready for bed, I was awake again.I wiggled in my hard bed, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but now my mind was active.Overhead, Yvonne was similarly tossing and turning.
“Tell me about yourself,” I finally said.
