“I miss him too. It’s been a while since I called. I should do that.”
“You should. You’re missing out. He’ssosmart, Callum. It’s almost scary sometimes how much he knows already. But the one thing he can’t stand is science. Talia was convinced he faked being sick to get out of a quiz, but it turned out he actually was. I’m pretty sure he’ll never let her live that one down.”
“Well, if he needs a science tutor, I think he’d have a pretty good candidate in you.”
It’s the first time I’ve referenced her old job, and it can be felt instantly. Her shoulders stiffen, and she walks just an inch farther away from me.
“I mean, I know you’re no longer a lab tech, and I know you hated it, but you were good at it.”
She smiles softly. “Thanks. And I didn’thateit. I just… I don’t know. It didn’t feel likeme, if that makes any sense. But maybe not. You’ve always known what you wanted to do with hockey.”
“Not always,” I tell her. “When I didn’t get picked for the draft that first year, I thought for sure my dream of playing professionally was gone, and I was ready to go all-in on business management. Hockey is part of me, yes, but it’s not all I am.”
“No, no. I know. It’s just…maybe I’m not describing it right.”
I don’t point out the irony in the writer not having the words. That little wave of awkwardness has passed, and I don’t want to ruin the moment again.
“I was good at biology. It was easy for me. But in many ways, it wastooeasy. I never felt a real challenge with it, and I think that’s part of the reason I ended up not liking it. I wanted tobe tested. I played it safe for a lot of my life, and I was tired of it. I wanted adventure. I wanted to find out whoIwas. Writing allows me to do that.”
I want to tell her I’ve always known who she is, but I can understand where she’s coming from. She needed to discover it herself. Slowly, the reasons she left are starting to make sense, but I’ve yet to get the full picture or learn why she chose the moment she did, why she stayed away. Why did she decideIcouldn’t be part of that journey with her?
I have so many questions I want to ask her, but they’re all cut short when she grabs my arm and lets out a loud cheer.
“This one! Let’s go in here!”
I let her pull me into an old thrift shop that looks like it has seen better days and grin as she all but skips down the aisles that are stocked full of every odd and end you can imagine.
“Oooh,” she says, lifting up a wooden pelican holding a bowl of what looks like ramen. “This is just exquisite. The details on the feathers. Magnificent.”
I laugh, knowing exactly what she’s doing. It’s a game we used to play when thrifting. We’d pick up the strangest thing we could find, then compliment it with a straight face. Whoever laughed or broke first would have to ask the cashier if they had another one just like it. It wassoridiculous and probably really annoying for the employee, but it was harmless fun, and I could use a bit of that right now.
“Yes, it truly is, but is it as magnificent as this?” I pick up an ashtray shaped like a sleeping raccoon—or at least that’s what I think it’s supposed to be. It’s beyond misshapen, and I’m fairly certain it has two extra legs, but who cares?
“Ah, yes, the six-legged trash panda,” she says with a blank face. “Explorers thought it was a myth, but behold—it is true!”
I hold it in the air. “Huzzah!”
“Huzzah!” she cheers, then immediately breaks character, doubling over in laughter.
“Um, sir?”
I turn to find the cashier standing a few feet away. “Yes?”
“Could you please put the sleeping chupacabra down?”Wait, what? This looks nothing like a chupacabra.“It’s a very unique item, and we have a strict do-not-touch policy for this case right here.” He points to the sign I completely missed. “If you’d like to purchase it, we ask that you let us know and we’ll take care of it for you.”
I roll my lips together, looking back at Chloe as she continues to laugh, then turn back to the cashier.
“Then we’ll take it.”
His eyes widen, surprised. “Wonderful. I’ll get it wrapped up right away.”
“And the pelican too.”
He frowns. “That’s an ostrich, but yes, we can get that boxed up as well.”
I hand him the statue, then grab Chloe’s hand, who is mouthingOstrich?I shrug and drag her to the front, shooting her looks to try to get her to stop laughing, but it’s pointless. By the time we spill back out onto the street, we’re both snorting from laughing so hard.
“I cannot believe that’s an ostrich!” she says once we’ve finally calmed down.
