“That’s almost too much to hope for.”
I’d love nothing more than to get to play with Marcus in the NHL, but the odds of that are slim.
“We’ll think about that later. I’ve got bigger things to worry about.” Shrugging into my blazer, I turn to face Marcus. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re going to ask me for money.”
“Good then?”
“Yes. But I’m not giving you money.”
“Then I guess you need to up your game to get drafted.” I punch him in the arm before leaving our shared room.
Guys are lingering around the house with no practice this afternoon. Some are studying and others have already started pregaming for parties tonight.
“Cap! You want to join us?” One of the freshman holds out a beer to me.
“Can’t. Might catch you later though.”
If this meeting doesn’t go as I’m hoping it will.
The drive is quiet as I head to the diner my dad and I always went to after my hockey games in high school. I figure if I’m going to do this, I might as well do it somewhere I’m familiar with.
I give myself a pep talk the entire way over. It does little to quell the rising nerves. I’ve gone over everything I want to tell Angie’s dads in my head. How much I love her and respect her and the relationship she has with them. How much my dad has changed and that he’s not the same person he was during his playing days.
Will it work? I have no fucking clue. But I can’t sit around any longer and let this thing fester. I can’t keep fighting with Marcus. He’s told me—through Harper, of course—that Angie isn’t in a good place. And I know she won’t feel better until she can make up with her dads.
The diner parking lot is half full as I pull in and park next to the familiar car. At least my parents are on time.
“Troy!” My mom’s voice echoes in the quiet space from a booth in the back. So far, it’s just the two of them.
Red plastic booths line the wall. The jukebox in the corner is playing an old tune. The smell of milkshakes and fries lingers in the air. Everything looks like it’s straight out of the 1950s.
“Hey guys.” I give my mom a hug before dropping into the seat next to them. Two half-empty coffee cups sit on the table.
“You look like you’re going to be sick,” Dad tells me.
“Derek. Not helpful.” Mom elbows him in the side.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Mom says.
“What if it’s not?” My voice is small. “What if it all goes to hell and I don’t get Angie back?”
“What do I always say? Don’t go borrowing trouble,” Mom chides.
“I guess you’re right.” I blow out a nervous breath as the bell above the door jingles. Two imposing figures walk in.
“I guess it’s now or never.”
“It’ll be okay,” Dad tells me, reaching over to clasp my arm. His face looks as nervous as mine.
I stand from my seat, watching as their eyes scan the small diner. When Alex’s gaze locks on mine, the feeling of wanting to puke comes back. His face is hard, not giving anything away.
He and Carter exchange a few words before they walk over.
Well, stalk over. Alex still doesn’t look happy to be here. This isn’t boding well for me.
