“Figures the kid would like the one player who’s determined not to like me.”
“Don’t say that. He doesn’t know you. When he does, he’ll love you. You’ll see.”
I laugh.
“Pretty sure I’ve got a better chance of scoring the winning goal in the cup final.”
Dad waves his fork my way again. “You’ve got every chance of that happening.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
I don’t actually need Reid to love me; I just need him not to hate me. Maybe Mom’s right, he might just need time to get to know me.I’m dedicated to this sport and this team—his team. Maybe if he sees that, he’ll stop underestimating what I can do here. I’ll show him. I’ll get in extra early to practice the power play moves and stay late too if that’s what it takes. I will win over Reid, just wait and see.
***
I’m at the rink an hour early, plenty of time to get warmed up and run through some drills before breakfast with Reid. What will that even look like? He scowls opposite me as I eat, probably waiting to point out all the ways I’m chewing wrong. Yay, can’t wait.
I take it slow, focusing on my position on the ice more than anything else, and after about half an hour, I’m confident on two of the plays and getting there on the others when I hear Henry’s voice.
“You’re in early,” he says, joining me on the ice.
“I haven’t been here long. Just thought I’d get in a quick skate before breakfast.”
“It’s intense, isn’t it?”
“Camp?”
“Camp, the NHL, all of it.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m trying not to think too much about the gravity of it all.”
He drops into a butterfly stretch, and I try not to laugh because no matter how many times I see it, it still basically looks like he’s trying to fuck the ice.
“Try all you like. When you skate out here in your first game, the gravity of it all will hit you like a ton of bricks.”
“Any tips on not getting crushed by it, then?”
“Don’t try to block it out. Feel it. Let it be the thing that energizes you.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Pretty much. I love it out here on the ice. I think I must have been a penguin in a past life, because I feel more at home here than I do anywhere else. Plus, I have Tom and Jerry to help keep me grounded,” he replies, getting to his feet. “I’m going to do some laps, but you should get inside before you’re late for breakfast and White steals all the bacon.”
“I’m more of a sausage guy,” I reply, and his eyebrows rise as a playful grin spreads across his lips.
“Me too, just ask my boyfriend, AJ.”
“Dude, not what I meant.”
“Sure it isn’t,” he replies.
“Thanks for the advice. I should get inside.”
“See you after,” he replies and then skates off to the net, fist-bumping each side like he’s greeting old friends. Goalies are weird.
I get my skates off and I’m up to the dining hall right on time. Reid is already waiting at one of the tables.
“Good morning,” I say, taking the seat opposite him. I notice he’s got a sheet of paper in front of him with the words “Meal Plan” written on top. “What’s that?”
