Page 56 of The Groupie

Zak

Driving Rylee back home at the crack of dawn so I could get back for the morning skate sucked. But what sucks more is the ticking clock in my head, the countdown to the expiration date of our non-relationship. One week and one day. I toss my sneakers into my locker and sit on the bench to lace up my skates.

“What’s with you? Your sneakers bite you?” Nowicki sits next to me.

I ignore him.

“Where’d you go last night?”

“None of your business.” I finish tying my skates and stand.

“You spent the night with Rylee.” He sounds confident. I stare him down. He grins.

“What makes you think that? I could’ve been with someone else.”

He shakes his head. “It’s your mood. A random girl wouldn’t put you in a sucky mood.”

I snort and head for the door. “I’m not looking forward to the road-trip, that’s all.”

He snorts back at me as he follows me to the rink. It’s true. We’ll be away for three days for two games. The only good thing about the trip, besides playing hockey, is that my parents and sisters will be at the game in Minnesota, and I’ll get to spend some time with them afterwards.

Once I step onto the ice, I soak in the cold air and pump my legs fast to feel the breeze on my face, to smell that combination of cold air, Zamboni fumes, and man-sweat that permeates the rink. It smells like home, my haven. The one place where I can leave the rest of the world behind and automatically feel alive, one hundred percent present and in charge.

After practice, we dress up in suits. Some of the guys take their fashion seriously and get creative since we have cameras aimed at us everywhere we go for social media. I’m not that guy. I wear a dark suit and tie—in fact, I probably look like a banker, except I’m sure bankers don’t smirk as much as I do. My only requirement in a suit is that it fits and it’s comfortable. Maybe I should do a promo for State & Liberty athletic fit stretch suits. As we parade past some fans on the way to the bus, they’re holding up their phones for videos and pics. Some of them call out and others whistle. I look plenty sharp in my charcoal suit and Brawlers black and gold tie.

* * *

We win the first game, but according to coach, Minnesota is a tougher opponent as he goes over some key matchups and quirks to look out for.

“You,” he points to me, “I’m counting on you to stick to their big right winger every time he’s on our end. Don’t let him breathe, much less take a shot.”

“Yes, sir.” I give him my game-shark smile, and my adrenaline starts pumping. This is the kind of assignment I live for.

“And don’t get hurt. I don’t care if you get a penalty or two, but no injuries. You hear me?” I nod, and he moves on, giving O’Rourke some game-time handy tips.

“What’s he worried about you getting hurt for?” Nowicki whispers as we sit on the bench in the no-frills visitor locker room, ready to go. He’s antsy because he’s up against a fellow rookie who happened to be overall number one in the draft.

“He’s referring to the last time we played them last season.”

“You got hurt?”

“Yeah, but so did he.” I shrug it off, though at the time, it was my worst nightmare. A fucking ankle injury. A lot like Rylee’s injury. Fuck. Why am I just realizing that now? It took me four weeks to get back to normal. Ankles can be a bitch.

“That’s right—you were out for a few weeks with an ankle, weren’t you?”

“Never mind about that. I’m stronger than ever. I put on fifteen pounds of muscle since the end of last season.”

“Shit. Still a growing boy, eh?”

“Don’t you forget it.”

Coach ends his spiel with his usual inspiring words. “Let’s give those guys a spanking they won’t forget.”

* * *

The media wants to talk to me after the game about my fight and two penalties, but I manage to escape the mob after ten minutes because O’Rourke was the real star of the game. As usual. I spot Dad because he’s a head taller than most people—except me—and head in his direction, feeling a smile take over my face.

Someone grabs my arm and slows me down, and I turn to find the woman I should be referring to as the bad penny because she keeps turning up.