Ridgeway sighs dramatically. “You cannot smell people’s feelings.”
“Then how do I know what you’re feeling?” I ask, sure I’ve got him there.
“It’s not a real skill. I refuse to fucking believe this is a thing,” Ridgeway mutters.
“It is. It’s a form of synesthesia,” Savage says as he walks by.
“That cannot be true.” Ridgeway brushes himself off like I gave him cooties.
“It is. You should look it up,” I tell him, fist-bumping Savage.
“Next, you’re going to be saying you’re an empath like some blond girl on TikTok.” Ridgeway is so cranky this year.
“Maybe you should try being more attuned to people’s feelings, and then I wouldn’t have to smell you.”
Ridgeway looks at the ceiling. “I need a drink.”
“It’s not even four.” I’m not judging, but maybe I’m judging.
“We have the adoption later, you can drink as much as you want.”
“I don’t want to fucking go to that.” He growls. “Some days you just need a shower beer.”
“When you are vomiting during sprints later, I’m going to say I told you so.”
Ridgeway procured a beer from god knows where and took it to the shower. I look around for who else I can interrogate about Archangel. But everyone seems off.
“It’s such a good day. Why is everyone in a mood? Do we need to have a feelings huddle?” Between Archangel this week and now the rest of the team... “Is this seasonal depression?”
“You know, I’ve been noticing the same. Why is everyone so down?” Solace asks, bringing his cig to his lips.
“You can’t smoke in here.” I grab it from him and throw it on the ground.
“That’s fucking carpet!” Solace picks it up carefully before the carpet catches fire and puts it back between his lips.
“That’s how you get ringworm in your mouth,” Ridgeway calls from the shower.
“I need my nicotine to play. That’s how I trick my brain into liking practice.” Solace puts the cig back in his mouth and I cringe.
“What the fuck are you on about?” Ridgeway sticks his head out of the shower.
“I started when I was eight. My dad taught me. If you smoke or put on a nicotine patch before a workout, it makes your brain like it.” Solace nods excitedly.
I put my hands over Godfrey’s ears. “Don’t say that kind of garbage in front of the freshmen!”
“He’s not wrong. My dad played pro and tried to do that to me. Thank fuck my mom wouldn’t let him get me addicted to nicotine at eight.”
“I’m not even going to touch that unhealthy family dynamic,” Lovelace says as he walks by already in full gear.
“Fucking goalies,” Solace mutters.
“We are a delight,” Savage and I say in unison, then laugh.
Practice putsme in an even better mood, and I grab a Dr. Pepper on my way to the shower.
“Warm dude?” Savage makes a face and shudders.
“Coach Hawke won’t let me have a fridge in my locker, and you’re not ruining my high.”
