Madds and Wright both turn their attention to the teenager, who must feel the eyes on him, because his gaze lifts to meet mine, and I swear I can see him blushing from here.
“No idea,” Madds says as I lift a hand and wave.
Reed gives a quick wave back before he turns his attention back to the ice. How a kid that shy can be a tight end is beyond me. That position is a lot like playing center in hockey. It’s a multi-disciplinary role that requires a sharp mind, confidence, and a serious amount of athleticism. But I suppose there are different kinds of confidence. He may not be socially outgoing, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a force to be reckoned with on the field.
Still, I can’t help comparing his demeanor with the way I was at his age. A lot of these guys would probably assume I came out of the womb brash and full of swagger, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
It’s hard to feel confident when your mom leaves you alone with your dad at six, and all you get from her are a few random calls and presents at Christmas for the first few years. And that’s not even taking into account having a dad who believes the sun shines out of his ass. Growing up with a father who seems to be more concerned with his image than how broken and lonely his son is leaves a lot to be desired.
It wasn’t until I hit high school, grew six inches, and put on some bulk that I started to gain confidence. And that was largelybecause, suddenly, the girls at school noticed me. It wasn’t the attention I needed, but it filled the void.
At Reed’s age, I was still painfully shy and withdrawn. I wonder if things would have turned out differently if an adult had seen how much I needed attention and encouragement? If they sawmeand encouraged me, rather than so much of my self-worth coming from the fickle attention of teenage girls in high school…
Maybe I could be that adult for Reed.
I keep half an eye on him as Coach Fry calls for another line change and we leap back onto the ice.
“Hey Joe,have you seen the kid from earlier?” I run my hand through my still-damp hair and scan the area, but Reed’s not here.
“Reed? He’s wandering around the arena somewhere while his sister works.”
Ah, so the dark-haired woman from friends-and-family-night is his sister. I wonder what department she works in? I’m not surprised I didn’t recognize her. The players don’t interact with many of the employees on the more administrative side of things. She could be an accountant or something. That would explain why I’d never seen her before.
“Good kid, that one. Very respectful. Sharp. A lot like his sister.”
I nod. “Yeah, I met him at friends-and-family night. Figured I’d try to find him and say hi.” I glance at my watch. It’s almost three. I wonder if the kid’s hungry? I am. Maybe I’ll order some lunch and see if he wants anything. It could give me a chance to feel out if he’d be open to a mentor. Not like I can help himwith football, but I am a pro athlete. I can hook him up with pro football players, agents, trainers… I could encourage him the way I wished my father would have.
I’m probably getting way ahead of myself, here. The kid just resonates with me, for some reason.
“I’m going to try to find him. I’ll see you later, Joe.”
Joe nods, smiling at me in what I imagine genuine fatherly pride may look like. Not that I’d really know. It makes something deep in my chest tighten.
I wander the main floor of the arena, not finding the kid until I come to the pro shop. They’ve got it open while the employees stock the shelves. Reed looks at jerseys as the employees make small talk with him.
“Hey, kid.”
Reed’s eyes widen as he whips his head to the side, and he finds me standing there, my hands in my jeans pockets. The store employees gape at me, so I nod at them and say hi, thanking them for all their hard work.
Returning my attention to the tall teenage boy, I grin at him. “Reed, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” he says, nodding but dropping his eyes. “Hey, Mr. Byrne.”
“Logan, please. Mr. Byrne is my dad.” I run a hand through my hair again, chuckling.
“Logan,” he says quietly. Like he’s trying it out and isn’t quite sure how to feel.
“So, Joe said you’re hanging out while your sister works?”
Reed nods.
“Want a tour? I can show you the locker room and weight room and stuff. Hell, you could get a workout in if you want.”
That gets Reed’s attention. He looks up, meeting my eyes, and the excitement is plain to see on his face. “Seriously?”
“Hell, yeah. Come on.” I wave at the employees, then motion for Reed to follow me. “Did your sister or Joe show you where the main stuff is?”
“Uh, I think so. At least, they showed me the areas they said I could wander around. I did all my homework, so Joe told me he could get me into your practice.” He glances up at me. “I hope that was okay.”
