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Eli’s commercial shoot in Vancouver for Class Seven sneakers would take place over the next two days, so he was flying to Vancouver tonight—strategically scheduled since he was so close geographically—while the rest of his team flew back to Burlington. The timing meant that Eli was going to miss a couple days of practice as well as his upcoming sociology class. The former wasn’t great, considering his performance lately, but the latter wasn’t the end of the world. He could get the notes from a classmate, although secondhand notes were never as good.
Ignoring the chatter of his teammates around him, Eli ate his granola bar and checked his emails on his phone. He had two from his agent, each with a different subject line—Tom didn’t believe in discussing more than one topic per email thread.
The first email was his flight details for the Flavour Network guest appearance. Fuck, he’d forgotten all about that. He remembered discussing it with Jen. Had he actually agreed to do it? He must have. It was a holiday episode that was filming later this week, and he was kind of dreading it. What if the secret ingredient was peppermint? Did anyone actually enjoy peppermint in their baked goods? It was literally the whole wheat baguette of baking ingredients.
According to Tom’s email, he was flying out on Thursday, filming on Friday, and returning to Burlington that night.
That sounded exhausting, but that was par for the course lately.
Tom’s second email was about the rescheduled commercial shoot for Sport U Apparel.
Holy fucking fuck. They weren’t dropping him? He did a little dance as he swallowed the last of his granola bar. Looked like he’d owe Zanetti that dollar he’d bet him.
His happiness came crashing down when he noticed the shoot dates.
Later this month?
Fucking hell. Why did everything have to happen in November? He also had to finish his sociology project, never mind his schedule of practices and team meetings and games and other Trailblazers activities.
“Eli,” Coach Friedle said as he approached.
“I know,” Eli said. “The bus leaves soon.”
“It does, but that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m still waiting for you to send me your schedule so we can see about getting some extra practice in.”
Eli almost laughed.
Almost.
He only stopped himself because he had a feeling it would’ve sounded frighteningly manic.
“My schedule,” he managed. “Sure. I’ll give you my schedule. In about four hours, I’m flying to Vancouver to film a commercial, and I don’t get back into Burlington until super late on Tuesday night. Wednesday is a home-game day. Wednesday night is a travel night since Thursday is an away-game day.” Eli’s breathing sped up, and he was aware that his speech was getting faster and faster. “Thursday night, I fly to Toronto for a Flavour Network guest appearance on a holiday baking show, which, like, I’m not a foodie. What the fuck am I gonna contribute, you know?”
“Okay.” Friedle took him by the arm and led him down a side hallway. There, he gently pushed Eli up against the wall, and the coolness of the concrete was like a bucket of cold water to the face. “Breathe, Eli.”
“I’m fine. I’m good. Just . . . busy.”
“Yes. I see that. Why are you this busy?”
“Because . . .” Eli blinked. Surely Friedle knew the answer to that one. He’d been a player too once. “Because I’m supposed to be?”
Friedle’s brows pulled low. “Says who?”
“Um. The NHL?”
“Really? Are your teammates this busy?”
Eli had to think about that one. “I don’t know, actually.”
“They’re not,” Friedle said. “Because they put hockey first.”
Offended, Eli tried to rear back, but the wall was in the way. “I put hockey first. I’ve always put hockey first.”
Friedle sighed and it was not a nice sound. “Do you know why we called you up from the AHL last season?”
“Because I was good?”
“Yes.” Friedle nodded. “Exactly. Because you were a good player. We saw your potential and what you could bring to this team. On the ice. What happened outside of it wasn’t even on our radar. We just knew you’d help us win games.”
