Does Finn not think I played well during the rest of the game?
And Christ, am I really so pathetic that I want her to slap me on the back and pay me dumb compliments for me doing my fucking job?
I roll my eyes, toss my phone aside.
Then pick it back up again.
RHODES: Thanks. Is Chloe asleep?
I stare at it for a second, the urge to delete every letter so strong, I nearly do exactly that.
But for some idiotic reason, I hit send.
Her reply comes before I’ve even slung my bag over my shoulder.
FINN: Barely. She was very concerned that your team needed more snacks to be better at hockey.
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it.
RHODES: She’s not wrong. We barely squeaked the game out.
There’s a pause. Then?—
Buzz. Buzz.
FINN: I suggested orange slices during intermission. But that probably isn’t standard.
I grin.
RHODES: Depends on the team. I’d never turn down an orange slice, but my favorite is a pouch of applesauce.
FINN: Really?
RHODES: Told you that you weren’t wrong to compare us to little kids.
She sends a laughing emoji and I stand in the empty locker room smiling at my phone/
Again.
And waiting for her to send something else.
Also again.
But nothing comes.
RHODES: You still up?
The three little dots appear.
Disappear.
Then come back.
FINN: Yup. Just was getting Chloe transferred from couch to bed without waking the kittens.
RHODES: That sounds impossible.
FINN: I’ll steal your line—I have many skills.
