They won the first game 3-1. It was weird playing against his old team. Most of the older players played with his dad just a few seasons ago. He had expected them to play dirty, but it was Seattle who played dirty enough for the both of them.
Fletcher’s new team was fiercely loyal to one another. And that included him. They had all seen the changes Fletcher had made over the past couple of weeks. He had come to Seattle with a lot of fake confidence. Sure, he was a good player. Reallygood. But he wasn’t confident enough in his own abilities. Playing with the Seaporters had helped him come out of his shell. Coach had told him he was practically unrecognizable on the ice now.
A lot of it was because Fletcher had finally been proud of himself. This was all him. He worked hard to get here. He had worked hard to earn his spot.
“I came from nothing. I was a nobody. But I found a team who took a chance on me. Every time I step out onto that ice, it’s a chance for me to prove myself worthy of having such an incredible team. This sport is truly a team effort, and I am so blessed to play with a group of guys who respect me just as much as I respect them. It’s not my success—it’s my team’s success.”
God, he was right. He didn’t want to admit it, but Taylor was right.Thiswas what hockey was all about. It’s not the player who builds the team. It’s the team who builds the player. Fletcher had probably read that on some poster, but it was still the truth.
This was the first time he’d ever have fun playing on the ice in Florida. It was possible all along. He was just on the wrong fucking team.
“You need to tell someone about your shoulder,” Fletcher told Douglas. He had injured himself during the game from ramming another player into the boards. He was given a minor and the Manatees had a power play. They had several power plays. At one point, there were three of them in the penalty box.
Surprisingly, Taylor never left the ice. If Fletcher was on the ice, then so was he. There were a few close plays that nearly earned him a penalty, but he ended up getting away with it every time.
“My shoulder’s fine. I just need some KT Tape. It’ll be goodenough to play for the next game.” Fletcher knew not to argue. Douglas was probably one of the most stubborn people he’d met. Well, not as stubborn as his dad. But Douglas was a close second.
He told Douglas to have a good night before he made his way back upstairs to his room. While everyone else was heading out to celebrate, Fletcher had to shower and get ready for dinner with his family. Coach had let it slip that his father would in fact be joining them, so Fletcher honestly wanted to puke his guts out.
He unlocked the room with his key card and stepped out of his slides. He quickly pulled out the first nice shirt and pants he had packed and hung them up on a hanger so they would hopefully iron themselves out with the steam from his shower.
He peeled off his outside clothes and despite showering right after the game, he still felt a little sweaty and gross. Probably because he sweated the entire bus ride back to the hotel.
* * *
“Dude, you’re so hot,” Douglas had complained earlier, sitting next to him.
“Awe, thanks Dougie.”
“No, man. You’re like a fucking furnace. Go sit with Piers or something.”
Fletcher let out a sigh. “Fine. But only because you’re injured. That’s probably why you’re acting like a dick right now.”
“I’m not injured!” Douglas protested. Says every single hockey player ever…
He got up from his seat and movedacross the aisle to sit in the empty seat beside Taylor. He had his headphones on and was staring out the window, so Taylor didn’t overhear the conversation he just had with Douglas.
“Jesus, Armstrong. Why are you so fucking sweaty? I thought you took a shower.” He took off his headphones and looked at Fletcher with a revolted look on his face.
“Can it, Piers,” Fletcher bit out. “I’m like really fucking nervous right now,” Fletcher told him a little nicer. “I found out Dad’s gonna be at dinner. Coach brought it up and I overheard it.”
“You have time to shower again before we go,” he told him. Fletcher rolled his eyes.
“I don’t need you to come with me. I promise you I’ll be alright,” Fletcher told him. “It’s not like he can physically hurt me. And I’m already used to all the bullshit he’s called me over the years. I’ll be fine.” He was trying to reassure Taylor, but a part of him felt like the more he said it out loud, the better he would feel about it himself.
Taylor narrowed his eyes on him. “Well that’s fine, I guess,” he said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out the name of the hotel restaurant. “I was looking at the menu online and I saw they served fresh raw oysters. You know, I’ve never had east coast oysters so maybe you could bring—”
“Oh my God. Fine. I know exactly what you’re doing, Piers.”
“I’m coming to dinner?” he asked with a playful smirk. Fletcher nodded reluctantly.
“Really?” He beamed. “You’ll pay and everything?”
“You’re impossible.”
10
The Reunion Dinner
