Page 19 of Game On

Jamie didn’t think he’d ever done anything interesting enough for two truths and a lie, but Mark was already nodding. “I like it. Can you get it done in the next hour?”

“Of course.”

“If that’s settled then...” Coach rose to his full height, which was about the same as Jamie’s and Dorian’s but felt much taller. Something about his effortless confidence made him seem ten feet tall. “I’ll head out. Dorian, I’m assuming you can give Jamieson a lift back to your place later?”

Pursing his lips, Dorian glanced over at the corner where Jamie had left his duffle of swag and his equipment bag, the latter of which was slowly beginning to stink up Mark’s office.

“I’m not putting his reeking gear in my car.”

“Dorian,” Coach said, and he sounded so parental. Jamie withered in his chair.

Dorian was unaffected. “What? It smells like the bottom of my foot. After stepping in bird poop. You know what Canada goose poop smells like. Remember when I stepped in it at the park when I was little and you had to clean it off me?”

“I can just take an Uber,” Jamie said.

Coach leaned closer. “Don’t take anything Dorian says seriously.”

Dorian gaped. “Now that’s just mean.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jamieson.” Coach nodded at Mark and left.

“Come on,” Dorian said. “Let’s grab a meeting room.”

The meeting room Dorian chose was small: one table, four chairs, and a large screen on the wall. Dorian hooked up his laptop to the screen, which mirrored his computer, and brought up InDesign.

“You don’t use Photoshop for your graphics?” Jamie asked.

Dorian barely spared him a glance. “Photoshop is the devil. InDesign is where it’s at.” He stretched out his shoulders. “Okay. Go. Give me a truth. Or a lie. Don’t tell me. I want to guess.”

Jamie racked his brain and came up with, “I’m the youngest of eight kids?”

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, Dorian grimaced. “Is that easily searchable?”

“Probably. Plus, I’ve posted family photos on my socials before.” It was hot in the little room, so Jamie removed his hoodie and put it on the chair next to him. “What about pets? When I was a kid, at one point we had three dogs, seven cats, two turtles, a rabbit, and a pig. We might’ve also had a bird at that time.”

“A... pig?”

“My mom was raised on a farm.” Jamie shrugged. “So we’ve always been into animals.”

“But that doesn’t explain the pig.”

“I’m not even sure where he came from. I think my brother brought him home. We had him until he died. Then we ate him.”

Dorian’s jaw dropped.

“Made bacon.” Jamie made sizzling sounds, like bacon frying on a pan.

Dorian’s eyes went huge.

Jamie tried to hold in his laughter, but Dorian’s expression... “I’m kidding! You should see your face.”

“You have a morbid sense of humour, Jamie Jamieson.”

“Maybe a little.”

Letting out a little laugh, Dorian closed InDesign, opened a blank Word document, and typed up Jamie’s truth. “What else?”

“What else? Uh...” Jamie tapped his fingers on his thigh. It couldn’t be anything hockey-related because that was also easily searchable. Without thinking, he blurted, “Six months ago, I ended my engagement the day before the wedding.”

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