Page 48 of Game Misconduct

“You and like everyone fucking else,” Mike said sourly, and he’d evidently surprised Araceli into a short barking laugh.

“I’m sorry, this situation is just—I don’t know you very well, but the way you said that is just—you could have pulled the words out of my own head. In exactly that tone.”

He found himself smiling back at her, a little shaky. “Yeah, well.” He chewed on his lip again, tried to slow his bouncing knee. “Iamworried about him. He drinks alot. And I know he tries to hide it, but I notice. And he’s taking some serious painkillers, which isn’t, like, completely unusual for guys like us—you get wrecked on the ice sometimes and that shit’s fucking painful to play on—but... I don’t know, I don’t think he’s had any major injuries recently so...”

Araceli was still watching, waiting, and Mike tried to gather all of his scattered thoughts together, all of his worries about Danny, into something resembling coherence.

“Either he’s got something chronic and heshouldn’tbe playing through it, or the pills aren’t really necessary, and that’s worse. Or both. But either way, it’s bad. You read about guys all the time with problems and...he’s playing fine, it’s not like he’s fucking up his career or anything, but he’s so fuckingsadall of the time and I don’t want—I can make him smile but he’salwaysfucking sad and I—and I—”

Mike had to stop. He felt overwhelmed by the effort of forcing the words out, by talking this much about such real things, and his hands shook so badly he couldn’t even lift the coffee mug to drink it.

“I just want him to be okay,” he mumbled, finally, unable to look Araceli in the eyes. Instead, he focused on his boots. If he stared at them long enough, things would be okay. “And I don’t know how to make him okay. And I thought maybe you’d know. So, uh. That’s why I’m here.”

She was quiet for a long time and Mike started to get worried she was angry about it, but when he chanced a look at her, her eyes were like—she wasn’t crying, but she was definitely almost close to it, and he hastily said, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I fucked this up again, I didn’t mean—”

“No,” Araceli said firmly, and put her hand on his knee. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Ilovemy brother, our whole family does, but he doesn’t let us in very often. I’m just happy he has someone in his life that cares. Even if I will murder you if you break his teeth again.”

“That’s fair,” Mike said, and swallowed hard. He awkwardly patted her hand until she took it away again. “I’d let you murder me.”

“As to your question... I suspected some of this; I didn’t know all of it. And I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if there’s much wecando, until he wants to make a change. I’ve just been trying—and you can try—to make him know you’re there for him. Things are so much harder in isolation, you know?”

Mike thought about basically his entire life in comparison to the last six months of it. “Yeah.”

Araceli looked at him again, and smiled, suddenly. “So, Mike. What are you doing for the holiday break?”

Danny was back in Pittsburgh for the next week, a few home games before he had to go on the road. The cat was steadfastly pretending not to be happy to see him. Except he was doing a piss-poor job of it, so instead of actually ignoring Danny, he prowled around the perimeter of any room that Danny happened to be in but hissed if Danny came too close. Then he’d follow Danny again if he went into another room. The cat was an angry idiot with a bad habit of fighting shadow monsters no one else could see and tripping over his own paws, which he hadn’t entirely grown into yet, and Danny thought he was perfect. He just couldn’t come up with a name that fit.

He made himself dinner, but it was basically the same meal he made himself every day he was home by himself, which was a rotating protein cooked in the pan and then popped in the oven, brown rice in a rice cooker because he burned it every time otherwise, and a vegetable on the side. Today it was chicken breasts and kale. When he’d cared more about food beyond needing to put calories back in his body, he’d put an effort into spices and seasoning and switching up techniques, but now it just seemed like a waste of time. He mostly ate it standing up in the kitchen before moving back into the living room anyway.

The cat jumped up on the counter and glared at him, and Danny relented and gave him a little piece of chicken he’d pinched off. The cat seemed to like that, so Danny gave him another one. The cat slunk forward and rubbed himself against Danny’s hand, and he laughed.

“Oh, now you want to hang out? I guess the secret was people food the whole time.”

The cat stared at him, completely unimpressed, so Danny gave him one more piece. “Okay, I have to eat the rest of this, buddy.”

The cat batted at his hands, begging with strident meows. It wasn’t until Danny realized the cat had started answering tobuddythat he had inadvertently given him a name, and a horrible name. Appropriate for a hockey player’s pet, he supposed.

Mike called him a little later so he turned off the TV to answer. Danny wasn’t too drunk yet and since that awkward conversation a few weeks ago he’d been careful to watch the way he talked when they were on the phone or when they were video chatting.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi,” Mike plowed on immediately, like if he didn’t, he wasn’t going to be able to say it, “so what are you doing for the holiday break?”

Danny blinked. The holiday break was three days long, December 24 through 26. In prior years, especially when he was playing for the Cougars, he’d gone home to his parents’ house. The last few seasons he’d spent it alone, at home. “I was just going to stay here, I guess. Why?”

“Well...” Mike sounded uncertain in a way he usually didn’t, in a way that got Danny’s hackles up.

“Mike.”

“I know, I know. Look, dude, don’t be mad at me and don’t hang up, okay?”

Alarm bells, clanging in his head. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I, uh, ran into your sister the other day.”

Danny’s mind went completely blank. It felt exactly like taking a hit to the head, like he was prone on the ice while the rest of him tried to catch up. He couldn’t say anything.

“Seriously, please don’t be mad at me, but would you come visit me for the holidays? Bee and Mäkelä are going to be at Cap’s house for the team party and then Mäkelä’s apartment, and your sister said they’re not going home to Detroit, it’s just going to be her and Chris and the baby, and you could like—it’s only an hour and a half for the flight, you could stay with me, we could leave if it was too much, but I just thought that for a little bit, we could—”

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