“So his parents are due to arrive this evening,” Coach says. “But I hate the thought that he might wake up and no one would be there for him.”
“Oh, yeah. That would suck.”
For some reason, Coach looks relieved.
But Coach is a parent too. In fact, Coach’s son-in-law, Dmitri Volkov, used to be a defenseman for the Blizzards, but his agent was apparently terrible at filling out paperwork and Dmitri was unfortunately deported last season. I started a few weeks after, and I know how much he is missed. Dmitri is now in Sweden, married to Coach’s son.
“The team is flying to Montreal today. But it would be wonderful if you could go to the hospital.”
“You don’t want me in Montreal?”
“It’s just for one night. We’re flying back after the game. I’d rather you were here with Florian.”
“Oh.”
Florian does not want to see me when he wakes up. He probably also doesn’t want to wake up alone and disoriented.
I chew my bottom lip.
“Is there a problem, Mateo?” Coach’s eyebrows move together.
He’s definitely not thinking generous things about me. I don’t like it.
“There’s no problem,” I say hastily. “I’m happy to do it. Of course! No problem at all!”
I’m totally not going to tell Coach that one of the players has a problem with me. Maybe that wouldn’t make Florian look great, but it also doesn’t make me look great.
Coach hired me to give massages to the team. Florian is wary around me. That’s all. No point making us both look bad by saying something to Coach.
At some point I’ll have to tell Coach though. Florian needs massages.
Maybe I can get some extra goodwill by going to Florian’s hospital bedside.
“Which hospital is it?” I ask.
Unsurprisingly, Florian is in the big fancy hospital in Beacon Hill.
Coach gives me the details, and after the team leaves for the airport, I take my things and go.
I haven’t been to a hospital in years, but my stomach drops straight away when I enter. I wind down the corridors until I find the right wing. Coach has already told them to expect me, and a nurse ushers me to Florian’s room. It’s a private room, which is nice. Mom would have liked it.
Florian’s face is pale, and wires extend from him. It reminds me of… Well, never mind that. His eyes are shut. He’s still unconscious.
I hate it.
Please let him be okay. Please.
I settle down on the armchair in the room. The thing about being in the hospital with someone who is unconscious is that there’s not a whole lot to do.
I open my satchel and see Gina’s manifestation book. I shake my head. I’m not going to open it.
But there’s nothing else to do, so after scrolling social media, I pull it out.
I flip through the pages, then go to the section on finding your perfect boyfriend.
It’s as ridiculous as I imagined it would be.
It’s a workbook, and I take out a pen and answer the questions, careful to put the book on my lap so none of the nurses can see just what I’m doing.
