Page 19 of Home of the Brave

“Sounds good.” We headed toward the exit; unfortunately, we weren’t staying at the same hotel as any of the teams, but we were close enough to most of the locations that we didn't need a rental car to get around.

“How’s your wife?” I couldn’t recall her name, but I remembered her from the last Christmas party, and he’d mentioned her enough times in passing I knew he was comfortable discussing her. I also couldn’t recall if they had kids or not.

He grinned. “She just graduated with her masters in social work.”

“Wow,” I nudged his elbow with mine. “That’s really impressive.”

“Yeah, she’s the hardest-working person I know, but she loves it.”

We reached the sidewalk and turned left in sync. I was about to ask more when a scream filled the air.

Miles’ arm shot out, blocking me from taking another step as the scene unfolded before us.

“What th––”

My words were cut off by a snarling Erik Schultz stomping past us.

“Wasn’t that––” Miles started.

“They’re going to pay,” Hartman roared as he barreled past us.

It wasn’t until I saw their backs that I could guess what had happened. Glitter.

From their hair to their shoes, their entire backs were coated in glitter, leaving a sparkling trail behind them.

Before I could laugh, Miles had his phone out, filming their retreat before heading in the direction they’d come.

He was chuckling when I caught up and saw through the gathered crowd at the hand-painted sign hanging from a side entrance of their hotel.

“Welcome, Stars!”

Glitter was everywhere. It covered the doors and sidewalk, gaps from where Hartman and Schultz had blocked it.

“Good thing they were leaving and not heading in,” someone remarked. “It would have sprayed them right in the face.”

The person next to them laughed, and they continued on their path as I took their spot, now able to see what they had. From the setup, it did look like it was intended to go off when players entered. How had they not noticed the setup before they opened the doors?

Distracted by their phones or a conversation, most likely.

“This is too good,” Miles smiled over at me. “It’s not even day one, and the pranks have started.”

I shook my head. Hockey players were notorious for their prank wars, some lasting for years. It wasn’t just rivals either. Teammates were often the worst offenders.

“So it begins.” I turned and noticed some of the women from the East team.

“At least we didn’t get hit first,” another laughed before they crossed the street.

Miles finished taking pictures and video, then put his phone away and nodded in the opposite direction. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

It was a short walk before Miles pointed. “This is it.”

It was so nondescript. I never would have given it a second glance with its worn-out paint on the windows and faded white and red overhang.

The boom of conversations hit as soon as Miles opened the door. The place was much more crowded than I expected from the outside. Most of the tables were full, and a server passed with a hurried smile.

“Sit where you can!”