Page 10 of Home Ice

"But it's Morrison's first day back, Coach," Princeling says. Everyone groans even louder, and the coach gives another look to the assistant who writes something else in his book. I bury my head in my hands. Stupid rookies.

When Coach is finished glaring at the Princeling, he turns to me. "It is Morrison's first day back, kid. Welcome back. It's good to have you again." The smile he gives me is something that Coach rarely shows in front of a group like this. "Okay, enough of that emotional crap. We got business to do. First things first, we got some new people here that we need to introduce."

Coach looks around the room. The Princeling and a few other players stand up. Then Coach turns to his assistant. "These fucking guys, thinkin' it's all about them. Half of 'em ain't got enough sense to close their mouths if they fall in the Charles, ya know?" Coach is old-school and from Boston, so half the time, we don't have a clue what he's saying. "I was thinking maybe we could go around the room and each of us say what our favorite flavor of ice cream is and maybe talk about our first crush."

The Princeling looks around at the rest of us. "I'll start. I like that ice cream with the chunks of?—"

"See what I mean?" Coach shakes his head. "This ain't some summer camp, kid. Sit down. All of you. We'll get to know you out on the ice. I'm talking about getting to know the important people. The ones who are going to take care of you this season. Coach Williams and me? We're here to make your life hell, so playing the games feels like walking a dog through the park." No matter how much I hear it, I'll never not smile at the way he says park. "These are the ones who are gonna hold your hand and whisper those sweet nothings in your ear, telling you it's all gonna be okay even though you got a bone sticking outta your arm. The training staff. You know most of them, but we got a couple new faces this year. Bring 'em in here." He motions to someone standing outside the door and a line of people, all wearing yellow polos with black trim, walk in.

Thanks to my injury and rehab, I know almost all of them better than I ever expected to. I nod to a couple I've gotten particularly close to over the last sixteen months. But when the last one walks in, it feels like all the air has been pulled out of the room.

"Very experienced... years... introduce themselves..." The head trainer, Elijah, has taken over and is standing in front of the group now. He's talking about two new hires, but I only hear fragments of what he's saying. My eyes and mind are so focused on her. When he points to her, she takes a step forward and waves.

"Pajama girl." I blurt out. Her eyes whip to mine, and her face turns redder than Denver's home jerseys.

She stares at me, her lips parted just enough to tempt me as she stammers for a second. Then she looks away. "I-I-I'm Lily Richards, and..." her eyes flash to me for just a second, and it looks like she's scrapping whatever she had planned to say. "I look forward to working with most of you." She looks around the room and smiles at everyone. Everyone except me.

But I grin for her. This has to be a sign.

CHAPTER 10

DOGS AND TEENAGERS

LILY

"It has to be a sign. The universe wants you to give him a chance."

"It's not a sign. And I'm not giving him a chance. The universe is reminding me why I hate Salt Lake and can't wait to get out of here." I glance over at the phone where I'm FaceTiming Em. "Cute scrubs, by the way."

Before I look back at the road, I see her shake her head. "Don't change the subject."

"I'm just pointing out that whoever bought those for you must have amazing taste." She's wearing the pale blue scrubs with cartoon puppies and kittens I bought for her birthday.

"Except when it comes to men. You do remember Tyler, right?"

I wish I didn't. "I remember Tyler, and that's why I'm done dating. Never again."

Em shakes her head, looking like a disappointed first-grade teacher. "Girl, you learned the exact wrong lesson from that."

What I learned is that I can never trust anyone else. No matter how often someone tells me they'll always be there. No matter how many times they tell me that my past doesn't matter or their friends’ reactions don't matter. It will always be me against everyone else. Except Emory. She's the only person left I can count on. "Em, I just need to focus on my job and nothing else. That way I can get through this year and get back to Denver, where my closest friend misses me dearly."

"I'm your only friend."

I flick on my turn signal and wink at her before looking back at the road. "And therefore my closest."

"And this whole thing where you think you have to live there for a year. It's so unnecessary. You just—wait. Are you driving? Lil, please tell me you aren't FaceTiming me while you're driving."

"It's fine." I wave her off when I finish making my turn. "It's not like I'm on the highway or anything." At least not anymore. I exited that a couple of minutes ago.

"Lily! That's so dangerous! I'm hanging up now. Love you. Next time, wait and call when it's safe."

"I'm almost there, so I need to go anyway. Love you, Em." She disconnects just as I pull up to the curb in front of the old brown house. There's just enough breeze today to make the rainbow flag ripple.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Chloe since I brought the casseroles to the shelter the other day. I keep thinking that I would have been in the same situation if it weren't for Dad. A trans teenaged girl with no one. There's no way I could have lived with Mom. Not once I saw what she really thought of me. So, over the weekend, I texted Michael and asked if I could spend time with Chloe. He gave her my number, and we've been texting back and forth since. Looking forward to this was the only thing that got me through the day once I discovered I'd be forced to work with Brant until the season ends.

Chloe runs out the front door before I even get up the steps to the porch. "I'm ready. Let's go." I look her over. She's wearing a pair of worn brown boots that come up past her ankles, shorts, a tank top with a sweatshirt wrapped around her waist, and a ball cap pulled low on her head. Under the bill of her hat, she's wearing more makeup than I would wear if I were going on a date. Silver is on a leash, but as closely as he sticks to her, I'm sure he would be fine without it.

"In a rush? Let me talk to Michael first and make sure this is still okay."

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