I can see her face drop and hate myself for disappointing her, but Mom picks up before I can grovel.
“Hey baby, how was it?”
“Iz is phenomenal,” I tell her, but I hardly get a smile from my sister, more like she’s resigned. “We’re actually on our way back, if that’s okay?”
“Already?”
“Are you not home?”
“I brought Tatum to Doug’s parents’. He’s getting off at five and was going to go get Iz from you, then meet us here for dinner,” she explains, referring to Tatum’s father. I never know if they’re dating or co-parenting, and this stringing her along makes it hard for me to respect the guy, but I bite my tongue.
Izzie sighs like she’s used to not being a priority, to feeling like an inconvenience.
“I can just wait home alone until he gets there,” she assures me, but while I’m not sure if she’s old enough to be left alone, I do know I don’t want to leave her with that look on her face, especially not because of me.
“Her bedtime is still eight?” I sigh, knowing this is a bad idea, but there isn’t much else I can do.
“That’s the plan,” Mom agrees.
“Cool. Um, I’m gonna bring her with me, then I’ll drive her back after.” Dread forms in the pit of my stomach, because this complicates everything, but Izzie’s face lights up, so whatever consequence Coach gives me will be worth it.
“You sure? What will she do during your game?”
“It’s just a practice.” Which makes it worse, because Coach’s wife is there for a lot of games, and Lacey, Darren’s girlfriend has never missed a home one, but neither usually come to practice. “Coach often brings his granddaughter, so they can hang out together.”
“She’ll love that, baby. You kids have fun, and I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
“Will do,” I assure her. As screwed as I now am, I can’t help but smile at how happy my sister is in the backseat.
“Stick to me, okay?”
I figure Izzie’s too old for me to hold her hand inside the building, but there are a lot of hallways she can get lost in, and we can’t afford the therapy if she wanders into the locker rooms where my teammates hang around with their junk out.
“There’s no one here,” she says in awe.
“We don’t often have people here during practice. Only special ones.”
Izzie smiles like she knows I’m full of shit, but appreciates it, nonetheless.
“Iz, can you sit right here for a few minutes? I’m just going to let my coach know you’re here.”
She nods and takes something out of her princess backpack, which I’m glad she brought. Coach’s office is around the corner, so I head over and knock on the side, ignoring his very serious open-door policy.
“Callahan, glad you could make it.” He gives me a look that’s a cross between relief and annoyance, possibly because I have never not answered my phone for him before, which probably contributed to his so vocally backing me for captain.
“Sorry, I assisted with my sister’s hockey practice and no phones on the ice. Is Liv here?” I ask of his granddaughter.
“No, they added a last-minute mandatory faculty meeting about the whole Berwick debacle, and I didn’t want her here for that.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say like I have any idea what he’s talking about.
“Unless there’s something else, I’ll see you on the ice.”
It’s a clear dismissal, then his phone rings and he looks as stressed as I feel, so I nod and walk out without asking him about Izzie.
Instead, I pull up our group text.
Wolves Team Chat
